06-17-2020, 05:02 PM
Natalie left him to study the screens without interruption. Of such infiltration she knew little, and she wouldn’t pretend otherwise. Not that her own incapability to the task did not gnaw a little; she did not like feeling useless. At the same time, the trust she placed in him seemed a natural thing; something well-worn and tested, though it was not. Or not like this anyway. She watched him pour over the information and did not suspect he found it difficult to catalogue it all in his head, any more so than she did when navigating the tangled threads of political intrigue.
Her expression remained unnaturally still, yet despite herself she smirked for the comment about the pool. She wasn’t entirely convinced his nonchalance was well-placed, but it soothed something inside anyway -- like puzzle pieces that suddenly slid into seamless placement right at the peek of frustration. None of her concerns diminished, and nor did the ill feeling in her bones, but right then she felt no desire to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. Even knowing how likely this was to all go very much to shit.
Jay rarely told her anything about his past, and she wasn’t sure if it was trust or the rapid unravelling of his old identity which prompted him to share such small insights now. She’d met his family of course; at a deliberately careful distance, beyond Cayli. And she knew plenty from her father’s documents, but those were only facts -- ones she wouldn’t have even read if he hadn’t pushed her to it. Hearing it was different. Honesty mattered far more to Natalie; the desire to offer it out like a reckless gift, not caring if it burned. Usually it did. But sometimes those secrets shared instead found the shelter of new homes.
When she glanced up, though, it was to a grin that suggested an entirely different reason for the confession, and it elicited a low laugh for its earnest nature. Especially given the direction of their path now. She wasn’t ever likely to tell him how much it softened in her chest, the fact he sought to impress her at all. That boyish charm was so much rarer these days than the legionnaire she’d met in Africa, only noticed for its worth now in its scarcity. “Unfortunately, this time you only have me.” It came out dry, but there was little self-disparaging about the comment. Natalie was aware of her limits, but she did not lack at all for confidence. The shadow of her own smile flickered a tease. “Though I’m sure you’ll manage. We’ve great odds, after all.”
She sobered a little for the last question. Though she’d offered the warning in the first place, it had been of necessity; talking of her family was rarely something she engaged in without some kind of internal grimace. “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t exactly made a habit of being the dutiful daughter.” Before her return to Moscow she’d been far removed from anything Custody related at all, let alone the minutiae of her own family. She didn’t think it impossible at all, knowing what she did of Scion’s ambitions, for him to have reached out to her grandfather though -- especially given the man’s sly approach at the fundraiser, and his apparent interest in Jay. It’s what she would have done in his place; insurance on Natalie’s empty promises if nothing else, much like Nikolai Brandon had elicited for himself when he instructed her to comply if she valued her family’s standing. The debt of a Patron was no small thing. “Marveet knew who I was at the fundraiser, though. Most wouldn’t have recognised me. Best not to rule it out.”
When the car finally stopped at the base of the mountain, Natalie did not hesitate before getting out. Sweat pricked her skin, but she put the jacket back on anyway, pulling her hair loose from the collar. The friction stung something fierce against her shoulder, but she didn’t want the injury on display, and it was easier for her to conceal the gun. Her numb fingers checked its place without much enthusiasm, though she felt better for its assurance. Then pale eyes inspected the jungle trail dispassionately as she clicked the car door quietly closed. She didn’t hide that haughty dismay, though neither did she complain. Africa had not pandered to the sort of luxury her manner generally suggested she was accustomed to, and most were surprised to discover Natalie flippant when it came to such things. But an outdoors type she was not. At least not without the sort of motivation this experience certainly did not offer.
“One of the worst nights I’ve ever spent was in solitary in a Tanzanian jail cell,” she said conversationally as they began the trek. “But we appear to be shooting for top billing tonight. I'm not sure I can think of a worse place for a moonlit stroll.”
Her expression remained unnaturally still, yet despite herself she smirked for the comment about the pool. She wasn’t entirely convinced his nonchalance was well-placed, but it soothed something inside anyway -- like puzzle pieces that suddenly slid into seamless placement right at the peek of frustration. None of her concerns diminished, and nor did the ill feeling in her bones, but right then she felt no desire to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. Even knowing how likely this was to all go very much to shit.
Jay rarely told her anything about his past, and she wasn’t sure if it was trust or the rapid unravelling of his old identity which prompted him to share such small insights now. She’d met his family of course; at a deliberately careful distance, beyond Cayli. And she knew plenty from her father’s documents, but those were only facts -- ones she wouldn’t have even read if he hadn’t pushed her to it. Hearing it was different. Honesty mattered far more to Natalie; the desire to offer it out like a reckless gift, not caring if it burned. Usually it did. But sometimes those secrets shared instead found the shelter of new homes.
When she glanced up, though, it was to a grin that suggested an entirely different reason for the confession, and it elicited a low laugh for its earnest nature. Especially given the direction of their path now. She wasn’t ever likely to tell him how much it softened in her chest, the fact he sought to impress her at all. That boyish charm was so much rarer these days than the legionnaire she’d met in Africa, only noticed for its worth now in its scarcity. “Unfortunately, this time you only have me.” It came out dry, but there was little self-disparaging about the comment. Natalie was aware of her limits, but she did not lack at all for confidence. The shadow of her own smile flickered a tease. “Though I’m sure you’ll manage. We’ve great odds, after all.”
She sobered a little for the last question. Though she’d offered the warning in the first place, it had been of necessity; talking of her family was rarely something she engaged in without some kind of internal grimace. “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t exactly made a habit of being the dutiful daughter.” Before her return to Moscow she’d been far removed from anything Custody related at all, let alone the minutiae of her own family. She didn’t think it impossible at all, knowing what she did of Scion’s ambitions, for him to have reached out to her grandfather though -- especially given the man’s sly approach at the fundraiser, and his apparent interest in Jay. It’s what she would have done in his place; insurance on Natalie’s empty promises if nothing else, much like Nikolai Brandon had elicited for himself when he instructed her to comply if she valued her family’s standing. The debt of a Patron was no small thing. “Marveet knew who I was at the fundraiser, though. Most wouldn’t have recognised me. Best not to rule it out.”
When the car finally stopped at the base of the mountain, Natalie did not hesitate before getting out. Sweat pricked her skin, but she put the jacket back on anyway, pulling her hair loose from the collar. The friction stung something fierce against her shoulder, but she didn’t want the injury on display, and it was easier for her to conceal the gun. Her numb fingers checked its place without much enthusiasm, though she felt better for its assurance. Then pale eyes inspected the jungle trail dispassionately as she clicked the car door quietly closed. She didn’t hide that haughty dismay, though neither did she complain. Africa had not pandered to the sort of luxury her manner generally suggested she was accustomed to, and most were surprised to discover Natalie flippant when it came to such things. But an outdoors type she was not. At least not without the sort of motivation this experience certainly did not offer.
“One of the worst nights I’ve ever spent was in solitary in a Tanzanian jail cell,” she said conversationally as they began the trek. “But we appear to be shooting for top billing tonight. I'm not sure I can think of a worse place for a moonlit stroll.”