"So I want to say I'm sorry that I drew the line. I built the wall, the fault is mine."
—"I Want To Say I'm Sorry," Andrew Peterson
"You know better than to try to plant stuff here. Kristi will just kill it when you leave."
Natalie threw a look over her shoulder, pouting at Laila as she leaned out the window, her hands buried in the flower pots that adorned the apartment, potential wasted.
"I'm doing it anyways," she muttered indignantly. "At least while I'm here there will be some life in this apartment."
"Believe me, you're all the life we need here."
Natalie huffed a laugh as Laila moved around the small studio.
"By the way, Mike called. He's coming over later," she called, raising her voice to be heard over the sounds of the city. Natalie gasped, jerking back inside and slamming her head on the window pane. "Careful! Don't you dare break my window."
"Mike!" Natalie cried, ignoring her. "I haven't seen him since I got back."
"Yeah. Poor guy sounded heartbroken."
"Oh, stop with that." Natalie closed the window, raising up and rubbing her wrist against the sore spot on the back of her head.
Laila shook her head, leaning her back against the counter. Mike had been in love with Natalie practically since the day he'd met her, and everyone could see it but her. She always brushed off her and Kristi's well meaning shoves in the right direction as jokes, dense as she was.
Part of Laila wondered how much of her obliviousness was real, though, and if maybe some part of Natalie knew and kept it up to keep from outright rejecting him as a way of protecting his feelings.
But Kristi still thought he'd be good for her, and Laila knew her efforts to get them together would only be doubled since Natalie dropped the bombshell on them that Lucifer had come back into her life. She was probably the one who had urged Mike to drop by, now that Laila thought about it.
The upbeat tone Natalie had set up on her phone interrupted the brief silence, as Natalie had come around to wash her hands in the sink. She dug the dirt out from under her nails, glancing over to where her cell rested on the counter, piquing Laila's curiosity.
"Expecting someone else?" she asked.
"No," Natalie said, a little too quickly, turning her attention back to the sink.
"Is that so? No call from Lucifer yet?"
"..."
Laila narrowed her eyes at her. Natalie turned the water off slowly, glancing between her and her phone. There was a beat, a moment of nothing, and then both lunged for it.
"McAllister! What have you been hiding?" Laila asked as she snatched it off the counter, and made a dash for the couch, Natalie hot on her heels, hands still dripping.
"Nothing!"
Laila rounded the couch, putting it between them, and Natalie slowed, looking for an opening.
"This doesn't look like nothing. This looks like Lucifer Abidan's name in your phone and not a word said to me or Kristi." She paused, and Natalie took the time to wipe her palms on her jeans. "Well, not telling Kristi is probably a good idea."
"I told you I gave him my number," Natalie protested. "It wasn't a secret."
"No," Laila said, "but you didn't tell us that he actually contacted you. Giving someone your number and having open communication are two very different things, McAllister."
Natalie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it nervously. Laila arched an eyebrow at her, before tossing her cell back to her with a sigh. She didn't blame her for not telling either of them. Kristi would probably lose her shit if she knew they were actually talking.
"Just be careful, Nat."
"I am," she assured, a bright smile replacing the uncharacteristic worry. "It's not like anything's going to happen. We're just catching up."
They had been best friends their whole childhoods, and though he'd hurt her, part of her still cared about him. It was hard to completely let go of a connection like theirs, and if he was willing to put in the effort to catch up on all they'd missed of each other's lives, too, then it was all the better.
"Well, fill me in." Laila sat cross legged on the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to her stomach, and gestured for Natalie to do the same. Natalie's grin only widened, as she took the seat across from her.
"I mean, it's not much. It's only been two, n— wait… three days since I ran into him."
"And? When did he call you — or text you, whatever."
"I think… he called thaaat day?" Natalie said, drawing out the vowels as she tried to recall.
"You think?"
"Well, it was when I told you about running into him. My phone was dead, remember?"
Laila hummed, arching an eyebrow as if to say she didn't really remember, but to continue anyways. Natalie stared at her, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and Laila waited patiently. It was obvious that Natalie had something to say, and it was only a matter of if she decided she should share or not.
But if there was anything Laila knew about Natalie, it was that the girl was an open book who couldn't keep a secret to save her life.
She would tell her, in 3… 2…
"We're going to get coffee tomorrow," she burst, with all the breathlessness of someone who had run a marathon, as if her short bout of inner conflict had left her exhausted. Laila smiled to herself at Natalie's predictability, setting her elbows on the pillow on her lap and folding her hands beneath her chin.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I — it's hard to make up all those — all that time, over text… y'know? So I suggested—"
"So you suggested," Laila interrupted with a lilt to her voice that made Natalie blush.
"It's not like that!" Natalie protested with a pout, then shifted to face Laila entirely, sobering up. "Not all high school sweethearts are meant to be. It clearly wasn't, and that's alright. It's been years. But he was my best friend, and I…"
Laila reached out to lay a hand over Natalie's.
"You don't have to explain. I get it," she said. Natalie smiled gratefully, thankful she didn't have to struggle to find the words. "You do what makes you happy."
"Thank you."
"Anytime. But, uh, Nat?"
"Yeah?"
"You know you're going to have to figure out a way to tell Kristi."
"...Yeah."
"Hey, Luce, did you finish repairing the model of the St. Louis skyscraper?"
Lucifer ground his teeth at the use of a nickname that was unapproved and unwelcome, but turned to face the architect addressing him, anyways.
"Not yet," he said, working his jaw. Model building itself was fine, Lucifer didn't mind getting to manipulate the layout of a brand new structure. Repairing one, however, was a tedious, mindless task that he was struggling to stay focused on when there were countless other things he could do instead.
He didn't understand why he couldn't just make a new one.
"Who was the idiot who broke it, anyways?"
"Beats me. How about those renders?"
"Goddamn, Uri, give me a moment to fuckin' breathe."
Uriel was a small man but a big pain in Lucifer's ass. He was constantly demanding something, as if he didn't have anything better to do than bug the intern, and he preferred to go by a shortened version of his Biblical name.
Which was probably why he decided that Lucifer must be in the same boat.
Lucifer thought, on more occasion than one, about calling him by his full name just to flip the table on him, but he wasn't trying to make enemies this early on, and Uriel was apparently pretty high up the scale. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he didn't want to fuck it up.
Not to mention his self-proclaimed father figure, Khalid, would personally fly from Egypt to kick his ass if he did.
And if he lost this, he would probably have to start travelling again. He didn't know what kind of employment he'd be able to find in New York, so sticking around long-term would likely not be in the cards for him. He needed to stick around at least long enough to build up the courage to offer Natalie an explanation, for all those years of radio silence.
He owed her that much.
"I need them within the hour," Uriel said, and Lucifer hummed as the shorter man walked past him. The moment he turned the corner, Lucifer rolled his eyes, falling back into his chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose to ward off the oncoming headache.
He had a good gig set up here — a steady pay, and while there were the typical intern jobs, such as repairing models and finishing up renders, he was also allowed in meetings where Adair, when present, was always quick to ask after his opinions, and he had already been brought along a few times in the field. He wasn't just the errand boy and he was grateful that his mentor seemed to be serious about opening a few doors for him in this career.
That didn't mean some days didn't grind on his nerves, though. Especially the last few, when his mind had been otherwise… occupied. Renders were the last thing on his mind when his biggest regret was staring him in the face.
He ran his hands down his face, unwilling to admit that he was nervous about their outing the following day. He didn't know what he was going to tell her. He didn't know what he could tell her.
Their back and forth in the three days since they'd run into each other had been superficial at best. Nothing said on either side had been very revealing about what the last few years had entailed for either of them, besides Lucifer telling her he'd been travelling and Natalie telling him that she was on the way to becoming a botanist and that she had a summer job at a little flower shop not too far from the coffee shop they'd met in.
There was a lot to talk about and none of it could be properly conveyed over a text. Hell, he wasn't even sure it could be properly conveyed in person, and he'd never been good with stuff like this to begin with.
Not to mention that, for all intents and purposes, they were entirely unfamiliar to one another now. It had been too long, he knew he had changed and he was sure she had, too. Who were they now? They were nothing but glorified acquaintances with a rocky history, and he was to blame.
So how did you tell a stranger you were sorry for breaking their heart?
He sighed, dropping his hands from his face when he heard footsteps that were inevitably Uriel's coming back around the corner. He glared at the screen in front of him, before pulling up the renders that were being so desperately sought after that day and pretending to tweak them.
"Finally. Thanks, Luce," Uriel said, and Lucifer repressed the urge to lock his jaw again, taking a deep breath and letting the nickname roll off of his back. He had bigger things to worry about today.
"Yeah, sure," he muttered, not looking up from the computer until he was sure Uriel was gone again. He relaxed back into his chair and shook his head to clear it of his lingering anxieties.
He had time to figure out what he was going to say. For now, maybe the concentration needed to complete the renders would actually be a welcome distraction instead.
