drink, my buddy -- Elliot

[nate]

Hmm, how exactly can I make this conversation not a massive ball of confusion? We're friends, that much is agreed upon. It's a start, I suppose. But where do we go from there? Clearly there are "benefits" between us. But she has Dorian and I have...

Well, I'm not sure if I do have, but I'm certainly trying to--

Things were a lot better when there were a good deal less people involved.

Nate poured more liquid into his glass, pausing to stare at it. Fortunately the club didn't have too many people with it that day. The day might have had something to do with it. Rarely did people bother to drink on Tuesdays. But Nate rarely wanted to drink with anyone. In the end, he'd called upon the one person he knew who'd possibly be in a similar state of mind.

Besides, they had a good deal to talk about.

Relationships, mostly. Though one has to wonder if there really shouldn't be something else. Is this going to simply turn into a lengthy b**ch session? Well, actually, my love life actually exists now. Do I want to lord it over her?

You know, in the end, I think I truly want Elliot for some awkward sort of friendship, and that's why I'm actually trying. It would probably go a lot easier if I weren't disgusted with people as a whole, and completely inept at trying this out.

Grunting, Nate sipped his drink, and waited.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

In total honesty, a field which Elliot had less experience in than any other, the blonde bombshell had been more or less avoiding Nate as of late; and in truth, something else she knew near nothing about, she had doing a damn good job of it until today.

Months ago, something inside Elliot had changed drastically. A revelation of sorts, though from her own perspective it was much more as if something had died, like some piece of her had been silenced and lost and suddenly life had called for a drastic change. So, the pretty girl with the deafening blue eyes disappeared. She hooked up with a shape shifter named Jacob and spent the entire summer abroad, ducking responsibility and everything she was used to with flawless ease. Even September was spent away from school as Elliot decided to work on her tan while she waited tables in Spain just for the hell of it. It was just a few weeks ago she had quietly slipped back into the familiar curve of The Academy and even worse, America.

Though, since her return Elliot had tried very hard to keep to herself, set firm in the mind of independence simply for fear of becoming the weak child she had been once upon a time. Nate's invitation went ignored at first, but the offer never completely escaped her, and after wasting an entire hour churning things over, the blond slipped on a pale dress that fit so well into her usual eye-catching style and left little to the imagination, and headed for the Club.

Stepping into the establishment, the usual click-clack of her heels was drowned out by the surroundings, and Elliot spotted Nate right away, her heavy blue eyes landing on him just seconds in the door. Crossing the club and heading toward the boy with a little more slink in her step than usual, Elliot couldn't help but bite her lip ring, the color immediately draining from her lips as a thought crossed her mind; what the hell was she doing here?

Approaching her date for the afternoon, the Almasian shook off all stray thoughts and with a familiar wave of citrus and vanilla to warn Nate, the leggy blonde leaned forward to kiss her friend on the cheek before sliding into a seat besides him.

Elliot let a moment linger between them before finally speaking, her voice gentle and edged with a new accent, one much smoother and enticing than her born British tint. And just by the things that lied unsaid in her gaze, it was obvious that more than just Elliot's purr had changed.

"Hey stranger."

[nate]

The scent got to Nate first.

He'd almost forgotten it.

How is it that girls can always smell so wonderful? Sometimes without even trying. It's an uncanny power they have, beyond most Gifts. I'm almost jealous, and would be if I weren't so busy trying to smell like a man myself.

"Hello there, Miss," Nate replied. He turned, raising his eyebrows. Clearly this Nate had a good deal more confidence in himself than the Nate Elliot had once known. Things had changed for him, he'd grown though it pained him to admit it. Mostly in a good direction, and nearly all of it toward women. Still, let's take the small changes as they come.

"You know, you bare a remarkable resemblance to this girl I once knew," Nate said. He drank Elliot in with his eyes, always a pleasurable exercise.

and intoxicating. Visual alcohol, that's what you are, Elliot.

"I took her to Italy once. It was quite an interesting experience," now Nate smirked, remembering that experience all too well. "Haven't seen her for a while though."

Nate twisted, tapping the bar twice. The bartender understood, and looked expectantly at Elliot.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Why," she paused just long enough to let her lips curl upwards in the a fashion that could only be referred to as devious. "What a coincidence. I was just in Italy."

Elliot turned a bit to the side, crossing her mile-long legs at the ankle as her heady gaze landed on Nate. Something was different about this exchange, something in the chemistry of their whatever had changed and shifted and Elliot knew that it wasn't just her absence at fault. Her eyes searched the boy's face for a moment before she turned to the bartender with a gracious smile.

"A Sogni di Notte, per favore." Turning her attention back to Nate, Elliot had already forgotten about the Italian cocktail as she attempted once more, to put a finger on what had changed between her and this boy.

"That's quite a shame about your friend though darling. " Elliot paused, chewing on the inside of her lip out of habit. She was testing both the air and the waters before she dared to tread either. Off to the side, the bartender appeared with her drink, but she seemed the least bit interested.

"You must have had quite the thing for her, to whisk her off to Italy like that." In the right light, if Nate was looking close enough, he would probably catch the Almasian wink at him.

[nate]

understatement.

"Oh, I had a bit of a thing for her," Nate agreed. He swished his drink, staring at the contents. Then he set it down, looking over at Elliot. "Pretty amazing, when you get down to it. We had entirely too much in common though."

again, understatement.

Nate shifted in his seat, jerking a rumpled notebook out of his back pocket. It looked surprisingly water-logged, as if it had been exposed to a heavy rain. Without a sound, he flipped it to a page, then flopped it onto the counter.

Elliot's face stared out from the page.

"Looks kinda like that, really," Nate stated, tapping the notebook. He took a sip from his drink. "I might have glorified her a bit at the time. I was pretty desperate for a f**k."

again, understatement.

Nate set his drink down, and turned to Elliot now, actually smiling. "You know, I actually missed you, believe it or not. You had better have ran off to France or Italy, or else I might have to get offended."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

( -good god, I rly missed you Matty <3 Nate and Elliot are my favorite thing evar :D )

The blonde with the nice legs and the expectant smile, with those blue eyes set to stun and that pretty, strangely exotic accent could help but pause for a second. She let down her guard, her game, for just a second because it was so easy to be comfortable around Nate. With almost four months apart and a lot of evolution between them, somethings were still the same. Whatever had changed here was not near as great as what had stayed the same, and very suddenly, Elliot was grateful that she had ignored her better sense and actually shown up.

"Well she's certainly a looker, glorification or not." Her hands traced the edge of the notebook absentmindedly and she raised her drink, taking a long sip to hide the smirk on her face. The afternoon, that afternoon, still seemed fresh in her mind for some reason, and it was one of the few pleasant memories that the Almasian had been able to recall in the midst of her hidings over the last few months.

"Oh god don't even talk about sex right now." Elliot rolled her eyes, a flicker of humor in her eyes as something familiar and comfortable entered into her features, causing them to warm. "I haven't even had a bloody decent kiss in months."

Nate was probably the only person she would admit that to so easily, and even then there was the chance that she was lying to him. After all, how could someone like Elliot, possibly be falling behind in the sex department? Appearances are meant to deceive and no one knows that better than a pretty girl.

"Italy, Southern Spain, Paris, Prague, Amsterdam." She ticked them off her fingers, unable to resist licking her lips at the last destination. The bustling liberal city in the Netherlands had treated the girl all too well. Taking a long sip of her drink, Elliot finally set the glass down and smirked over at Nate.

"And yes, I missed you too."

[nate]

Wait, seriously? Elliot Davis did not get laid? What happened?

"Did we switch sex lives or something?" Nate wondered aloud. He raised his eyebrows in surprise now, looking over at Elliot. "Because I managed to sleep with a beautiful girl in the meanwhile, and sort of had a girlfriend."

He had to smirk now, "Someone gave me a little too much confidence."

Which has, thus far, been more or less a blessing. Except it means I have to play nice with Wingroses, and I have to actually talk to people now. Ugh.

"All I've managed to do is go to Japan for a short visit," Nate supplied. He had to grin, remembering that particular visit. Honestly, it was up there with the Italy one, though there distinct... differences.

As in the benefits.

"As for kissing, well," Nate shrugged, "I'm a fair hand, having been taught by an old friend of mine," his lip quirked up as he looked to Elliot, saluting her with his glass, "but I'm not sure I want to be the first one to touch those lips. I'm pretty sure your other admirers can still beat the s**t out of me."

And I prefer my s** in me, thank you very much.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Salt in the wound Nathan." Elliot chided, gathering up an expression of mock hurt, that pout still just as poignant as ever.

"Well, Italy was fantastic. Beautiful, understandable, cheap and I spent the whole time with a devastatingly handsome boy. But we split ways in Paris and I will have to admit that French boys really do know how to work their way around the bedroom." A silent laugh in her eyes as she took a generous sip of her Martini, which seemed to be disappearing awfully fast. Another small difference, but perhaps one Nate would notice, was how Elliot suddenly had the willpower to ignore her drink, even if just for a moment. It was quite the change, and much more like a superpower than her ability to stop time.

"Did all sorts of naughty things in Amsterdam that I couldn't possibly recall out loud." Couldn't possibly, maybe, probably. "And then that was it. Prague, Barcelona, Dublin, no boys. And no girls either." Another sip to wash away the hint of something bitter and then her grin had returned, with a vengeance.

"And to be totally honest, I don't think I've got any admirers left darling." Finishing the elaborate drink, Elliot pushed away the empty martini glass and waved the bartender down. She debated for a half-second on whether to order a Gin and Tonic or a Cosmopolitan before finally breaking down and deciding on a Sidecar. She appeared to be taking it slow for now, despite the anxiety that was clawing at her insides.

"Besides," She paused, looking back to the boy with that arresting grin lighting up all her features and a taste of challenge in her words.

"That never stopped you before."

[nate]

No admirers left? There's that Elliot-self-esteem I used to know. Disappointing to learn that hasn't increased from world travels. Still want someone to hold you?

Honestly, I'm now a far better candidate for that then I used to be. Question is, do I want to be?

"I assure you, there exists at least one admirer, and I'm willing to wager there's more," Nate raised his glass in salute. He then took another drink, needing the bracing shot from the poisonous liquid. Fortunately he hadn't lost his tolerance for alcohol.

sake does that to a person.

"You know," he set his glass down, then smirked over at Elliot, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me to kiss you."

He drummed his fingers along the side of his glass, raising his eyebrows. "I'd be lieing if I didn't say it was quite tempting. You're as intoxicating as ever. And apparently as needy as ever."

He finished his drink, turning the glass upside down and laying his hand flat on the exposed bottom.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Hey. I resent that." Elliot promptly dove into her drink, finishing half of the high-ball glass before pushing it off to the side, obviously determined to play coy with the drink for a few rounds now.

"It's not needy. Just," she paused, looking for any word besides the honest one. Any way to dress up the truth so it didn't sound so pathetic. But in the end there was no other way to put it and the Almasian gave in. "loneliness."

A moment lingered between them, silence lasting long enough for it to swell and whither before she said anything more. A rare second of honesty, and fragility had escaped the girl and for a second, she didn't know how to recover.

"And goddamnit, I better look good." Just like that, everything was back to normal, or something like it. "This is a hard-won Spanish tan, a real life Italian accent that even I think sounds bloody sexy, and is it just me, or did my legs get longer?" Elliot uncurled the appendages and stretched them out, the tan flesh shimmering under the club lights as she turned back to Nate with a teasing grin. In her tiny cream colored dress, which was more like a long tank top than anything, and those deadly black heels, Elliot Davis was indeed, as intoxicating as ever.

[nate]

alright, fact check:
Fact one: Elliot is as hot, if not more so, then ever.
Fact two: she's lonely
Fact three: her legs do look to have grown longer.
Fact four: it has been some time since I've seen her.
Fact five: her self-esteem is low enough that she actually thinks I'm her only admirer left.
Conclusion: I should go for it.

"Didn't notice the accent. The tan's impressive, would be more so if it were, say, all over. As for the legs," Nate looked down at the appendages in question, examining them thoroughly, "I'd say they have gotten longer. Though it might be the tan and the dress."

Nate tapped his fingers along the glass, and his eyes went to the drawing. He'd been thoroughly infatuated with Elliot then, almost a puppy dog type of love. Now he'd experience a semi-decent relationship, and, well, didn't feel quite as needy. But, he still wanted Elliot. Couldn't help himself.

She's simply impossible to resist. Even after four months separation.

"Truthfully," Nate spat the word out, looking Elliot in the eye, "I thought of you in the past months. Not obsessively, but you came to mind. I think," he paused for a moment, "I think you've marked me somehow. In a way that's good for me."

He flipped his glass over, reaching for his bottle to pour more liquid into it. After something like that, he needed it.

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Nate, I want you to understand what it means that I even showed up here tonight." There was a pause as she reached back and grabbed her drink, finishing it in a slow gulp and promptly tapping the bar in the motion for a refill. Turning back to Nate, Elliot sighed, as if she was having seconds thoughts about something before finally speaking.

"The day after Graduation, I did the stupidest, most cowardly thing ever and for all intents and purposes, ran away. I don't regret any of it and to be honest a part of me had the time of my life. But I didn't go there to sight-see. I went to escape and distance myself from this place and the people here to the best of my ability." She shifted in her seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I talked to no one but strangers for four months, and even since I came back here, I've been doing everything in my power to ignore everyone I used to know. And I had been doing a really good job of it until tonight." She artfully left Dorian out of the conversation. Her refill appeared and without another second of delay, Elliot took a greedy drink, feeling parched all of a sudden as she looked back to Nate and realized with a minor sort of jolt that this was probably the most talking she had done since she left.

"I'd be lying if I said that I didn't miss you when I was gone, and that despite everything, I just can't get you completely out of my head." Elliot bit her lip, the cool steel of her lip ring leaving a metallic taste against her tongue as she took another sip of her drink. She felt better now, like they were finally caught up and maybe past the bullshit and in a show of good faith, she smiled. That charming, drop-dead smile that was so rare on a face that held such heavy eyes.

"Now," she paused "Are you going to cut the shit and dance with me, or am I going to have to go find some new company?" The girl jerked her head toward the dance floor with a new found sense of amusement as her leg brushed Nate's.

[nate]

Two drinks in us and we're already bearing our scars for the other to look at. That's either incredibly beautiful or incredibly sad. Maybe a bit of both. Regardless, I feel odd being in this position, and again I'm floundering.

I hate floundering.

Nate took a deep drink not quite meeting Elliot's eyes while she spoke. Most of the words didn't surprise him. It struck him as being a wholly Elliot course of action. To sever all ties and distance yourself from other. For that matter, it was something that Nate himself practiced quite often. Though more and more he found himself in situations like these: opening up to that rare one person who deserved his time and effort.

"Dance?" Nate's eyes went to the dance floor. From his countenance, you'd think someone had just asked him to complete a complex tribal ritual involving bleeding babies. "I'm not very coordinated."

Still, he slid off his stool, taking a deep breath. "This is another one of those things you'll come to regret in time. I know I sure as hell will, because I have no desire to get close to those people."

The thrashing bodies on the dance floor disgusted Nate, turning his stomach. He had to quickly reach for his drink, downing the contents in one quick swig. He placed it down, then turned to Elliot.

"Better drag me out there before I change my mind and teleport out of here."

[Elliot is on the edge.]

"Hey, I'm just figuring that the more time I spend out there," she waved her hand in the general direction of the dance floor "where it's too loud to talk, the less chance I have of saying something else I'll regret here."

The pretty blond winked, as if she knew exactly what it was that she could say, but shouldn't and probably wouldn't. Sliding off the bar stool with her usual grace, Elliot reached over at took Nate's hand with no bit of hesitancy.

"Besides, there hasn't been much I've regretted yet as far as you're concerned." With a humorous touch to her grin, the Almasian let the words lie as they were and headed off toward the middle of the club, Nate in tow.

It seemed odd to her, foreign yet familiar how easily she had fallen back into this habit of dealing with Nate Wakeman, but she didn't dwell because it never seemed to do her any good. Squeezing past a few masses of people, she turned back to the boy who she had more or less dragged along, and offered him a hazardous sort of grin. All around them was playing some sort of heavy, engulfing song with an utterly generic club sort of beat. Thankful for that instinctive sense of rhythm that came with being a girl, Elliot's hips were already swaying and her eyes left Nate as she dragged her teeth across her bottom lip to curb a smile.

[nate]

There were very few people in the world that Nate Wakeman would allow to drag him so far out of his shell like this. Perhaps the one with the strongest influence had actually taken him by the hand and done so.

Now I get to feel like the social retard I actually am. Thank you, Elliot, for this horrible moment of awkwardness I am about to receive.

Nate nervously licked his lips, standing still for some time. The music pumped by him, but didn't seem to connect. It was as if someone had broken his body's connection to the primal force contained within the beat and rhythm. Nate looked around, desperately searching for an answer in the crowd. In the end, he had to focus back onto Elliot's smiling face.

Look, in the end, she's not going to care how well you danced. Most of the people here aren't looking at you. If they do, it will be with envy , because you are with her. So stop overthinking. Hell, stop thinking and simply go along with the dance.

Nate managed a sickly smile as his body started swaying. Like his initial fumbling attempts at kissing had been, this was awkward, yet genuine. The spastic flailing of a rhythmless white boy.