Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."
Author's Note: Post 3.01 because I really loved that shot of Serena on the horse. It's very short, Nate's PoV, and just feeding the NS muse. :P
***
He wasn't even looking for it (he never was really) but there it was anyway.
The polo match was a big deal; standing up to his grandfather (again), starting something real with Bree (maybe), learning to accept what was given (for a little while).
Clicking on it made it bigger, filled up his screen (the way she filled up a room) and he could do nothing but stare (the way he always did).
Bree didn't want her family to snub her any more than they already did; she wanted to keep them out of the headlines, keep him her secret (he was used to that).
His breath caught in his chest when her face came into focus (like it always did).
He was checking to see if there were photos (evidence) so Bree was prepared (to lie) for any explanations her family demanded.
And he didn't necessarily attribute that to anything aside from her being stunning (because she always is); so what man's breath wouldn't catch?
He hadn't been watching (he tried not to watch her anymore), when she'd done it; when Serena Van der Woodsen has stolen a horse from the match and ridden of the green to frenzy of flashing photographs.
It had captured the way her golden, wind-blown hair could stretch for miles around her, the way her tanned legs seemed to go on forever, the way she held herself with poised abandon, with an elegant carelessness; it had captured (or at least, to him it had) the brilliant blue of her eyes, deep enough to drown in if you weren't careful (and he never was).
Her name had been on everyone's lips suddenly, a whisper at the edges of conversations (the way she tended to be in his thoughts) and he'd trailed off after that whisper (in the middle of a conversation maybe), trying to find its source (but it's been a long time since he's known where Serena is).
But he thought (he knew) it wasn't what was captured that took his breath away; it was the thing that wasn't (her smile).
Carter Baizen had taken off after her (or so he'd heard) and he was maybe a little (a lot) glad he hadn't seen that part either.
It wasn't just her face, not even just her eyes, it was both (all of her); so sad ("I didn't come back for you") underneath all that boldness, so steady ("Tell her it didn't mean anything") despite being in such motion, so grim ("Because I'm asking you to") in spite of the almost quirk of her lips—
Bree called him then— he was starting something real with her (he reminded himself). And Carter had taken off after Serena (he kept remembering) so he took another look at the photo (not that he'd forget it) and then closed the window, the laptop, and stood.
He didn't let himself give it much thought as he walked slowly from the front room to the bedroom (didn't have to); he just let his fingers punch in her number and type out the text.
smile, i cn c u
He dragged his feet, waiting for a reply-- and smiled when it came.
lol, no u can't
cn t%, youre :-)
... weL… i M nw
.Fin.