bet on losing dogs | nate

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE DEPARTMENT DINNER HAD BEEN GOOD, IN fact it had been great. Expensive, disgusting canopies served on floating polished silver trays that he shared with Evy with a secret snicker. Sipping flutes of fizzy fairy wine that made his lips tingle, and his stomach fill with hot air so that everybody burped dainty little bubbles intermittently. He'd been promoted, rubbing shoulders with esteemed the McGonagall's, and fellow new starts that had clawed their way out of obscurity alongside him. It was the step up Nate had been dreaming of for years. He thought of how he might finally manage to drop his delivery job at the horrific pizza place, maybe even look at new flats once he'd saved for a few months. It was better, it was recognition. It was all fucking ruined.

The trip home with Evy had been deathly quiet, flooing from the manor to the transport hub in Hogsmeade. The cold no chillier than Nate's disposition, though they still walked side-by-side, as if they both realised something was brewing. The finely packed gift burning a hole in Nate's pocket. The tie inside made of elven silk, the red so deep and rich that it breathed gold, embroidered by the individual that bled their fingers to spin it.

Evy had given him it after the speeches and the welcomes had been rounded respectfully. While the after dinner mint juleps still condensed in their glasses, and families kissed their loved ones in congratulations. She'd handed it to him offhandedly, as if she were giving him no more than an extra plate of fucking caviar crackers. The guests had tutted, awing at the sentimentality of it. It hadn't been until Nate had seen the ridiculously expensive tie inside that he felt that first bubble of anger. He'd kissed her cheek in thanks, but it landed cold.

The flat door needed kicked at the bottom hinge before it opened. Nate was harsh with it, the toe of his second hand loafers smarting painfully as he'd knocked it all the force he had left in him. The door swinging out from under him and rattling against the adjoining wall. He stormed in, ripping his jacket off and tossing it onto his single dining chair. The formal robe came next, tailored so cheaply at home that it tore a little at the seams when he pulled it off like a tantrum throwing child. He still hadn't spoken to Evy since they'd left the manor, couldn't even look at her as he marched the four large steps it took to cross his entire living space. Fetching a half bottle of firewhisky from under his sink and unscrewing the top to glug right from the bottle with his back turned. It did nothing to cool his fury. 

evelyn rhea oliveira

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[evelyn rhea oliveira]

i'm not in love

it's just a game we do

March 2, 2029
Nathaniel David Forrester

The invitation in itself was not a surprise, although perhaps if only due to the occasion. Nate had mentioned his application in passing near the end of the previous year. Evy encouraged this, of course, even though Nate would joke that perhaps they might laugh at seeing his name on that list. But, the routine of self-deprecation was typical for the pair. In fact, it was likely what kept them so humble in their professional pursuits. The night began like any other event the two might attend, and they behaved much the same way, at least in private. Giggling in the corner as they commented on the people and Nate whispering tantalizing words in Evy’s ear while she did everything in her power to hold an even expression while ignoring the chill he’d send up her spine.

Evy thought he looked very smart in his robes, standing proud as they announced his promotion. Her usually cold and gray eyes beamed proudly. It was a good night for him and them. A certain warmth grew between them, not from the endless flutes of champagne. But one moment, Nate looked at Evy, and the next, after opening her small gift, his eyes had changed entirely. Evy felt as if all the windows and doors of the manor had flown open and allowed the weather of a winter storm to enter. Externally, he looked the same, but Evy knew. But she also knew well enough not to bring it up just then. And after that moment,

If not for the visibility of his breath in the chilly night, Evy might have thought him the walking dead, for he didn’t utter a single word after dinner. And anxiously for the rest of the evening, Evy mentally reviewed everything with a fine-tooth comb—what had she done? Where had these eggshells appeared from? And by the time Nate forcefully kicked the door of his flat open, Evy knew the night would not end well. It never did when it got like this, not to mention she didn’t take well to being ignored. She prided herself on remaining collected, if only to appear unbothered, but everybody had their triggers. Watching him undress and head straight for the whisky left her heart hammering. Carefully kicking off her shoes near the door, Evy braced without realizing it.

”Nate—“ She began. Once upon a time, Evy approached this with care and concern, but every moment that passed when Nate didn’t even look at her only caused her to grow increasingly upset. And now he reminded Evy of her seven-year-old nephew, Sebastian, whenever Callisto told him to do something he didn’t want to do. ”Are you going to tell me what has you so…” Letting her words trail off, Evy merely motioned with her hands. The writer didn’t have a word for the sight before her that wasn’t simply using Nate’s name as some sort of adjective.

template by vee

[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THE ROOM TEMPERATURE WHISKEY WENT DOWN like a lead balloon in Nate's gut. Burning a hole in his throat and leaving his tongue numb and thick. He had thought maybe he'd cool off on the walk home, but the fury remained just as Evy had, a shadow nipping at his heels. Perhaps it was Evy's complete lack of understanding of what she had done, or how he could see reflected in his minds eyes the smug look on his colleagues faces. That idiot Barty who was always commenting on Nate's appearance, backhanded remarks that Nate couldn't do anything about because Barty's fucking uncle was responsible for the monthly audits, and his father had only retired from the department two years before, when his son had joined the ranks with Nate.

Evy's voice cut across the room like a hex to the back, and Nate froze with the bottle loose in his hands. His name hiccuping in her mouth, harsh and questing as she always was. He didn't turn, taking another mouthful of whiskey instead and squaring his jaw so that he didn't scream at her, because she just did not Get... It. And she never would, he thought bitterly. God, it was all too good to be bloody true. "Has me so what?" He croaked out coolly, unable to help himself as he turned slowly on his heels to look at her finally. They couldn't escape one and other in his miniscule, pitiful flat. Just two opposing forces facing off in the street light that filtered through the windows.

"How much did that fucking tie cost you?" Nate finally asked as he pointed his bottle toward his discarded robes, broaching the topic that was really at hand. He wondered briefly if she was pretending to be dumb, hoping that Nate would eventually brush it off. She could be cunning when she wanted to be. He hoped she was, it made him feel better about being so fucking angry. "Do you think I'm going to wear a Bottecelli Eleven tie with my... my fucking secondhand robes?!" Nate's voice steadily rose as he spat out each word with such a mounting disgust that his face flushed red with a vein bursting anger. "God, you're so fucking stupid!" He roared, turning away in a flash to throw the bottle of whiskey at his kitchen cabinets so that it shattered across the cupboards and rained down on him sharply. He covered his face reflexively, digging his fingers into his temples until it hurt. 

evelyn rhea oliveira

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[evelyn rhea oliveira]

i'm not in love

it's just a game we do

March 2, 2029
Nathaniel David Forrester

Evy knew he would make her finish that sentence. Nate was never the type to let up—on anything, and quite frankly, neither was Evy. She'd lost count of how many nights began with some innocent, perhaps naive, hope of just a night in with each other's company. Evy didn't like to be alone, and she didn't know anyone who would admit to doing so, but this wasn't that. Genuinely enjoying someone's company was quite the thing to realize, usually when it was too late. How many times had she sworn off men—specifically Nate only to realize she fucking missed him.

Too many. Before Evy could find the right word for Nate's demeanor, he finally turned to her, bottle still in hand. Her eyes glued to that bottle, and her heart began to beat quickly. She wasn't scared of Nate, but how often had she seen her mother in the same stance? The same accusatory tone dripped with malicious anger where every appendage appeared as a weapon. How many times had Evy seen her father at the other end of that attack? She reminded herself this was not home. It wasn't the same thing.

"Excuse me?" Her brow furrowed, confused. The question didn't match his level of anger. This was the rage expected from betrayal, or had Evy been caught in some lie, but to what end? She hadn't released that she'd taken a step back. The tie? Evy had bought him that tie because she thought it was a nice gesture to celebrate his promotion. Merlin, it wasn't like she'd bought him new robes or a flat—this had been something in her budget. "Nate, don't--" But he kept going, and despite Nate finally putting the pieces together for her—it still didn't make sense.

"Nate-" However, Evy gasped loudly at the bottle shattering. Glass flew to every corner of his small flat. Evy turned with her face in her hands on instinct, but all she could smell above the pizza from below was the strong smell of whisky. Breathing heavily, Evy didn't move for a few moments. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Her tone remained even but firm. Finally dropping her hands, she looked pointedly at him. "It's a tie, Nate, I don't--" She threw up her hands, stopping because the lump in her throat forbade her from continuing. Evy's anger grew as she failed to stop the tears welling behind her eyes.

"If you didn't like the fucking tie, you could've just told me instead of acting like a fucking child." Evy already had to deal with her nephew's tantrums. She didn't need it from Nate. They were adults, weren't they? Evy crossed her arms tightly, more for her own comfort. She didn't know what was worse, feeling ignored or so fucking small in front of him. Her first thought was to offer to return the tie, letting him choose something else instead or just returning it to get it out of his sight altogether, but Evy shook her head. No. ”The cost doesn’t matter--shouldn’t matter to you. I wanted to give you something nice because I know how hard you worked for this promotion.”

As hard as she tried, Evy couldn't stop her lip from quivering or the tears beginning to fall. She felt tired—no, exhausted. The indignity of what had just occurred simmered in her gut, along with the anguish in her chest. What did it matter that his robes were secondhand? Merlin—most of Evy’s robes, especially for school, were hand-me-downs from her sisters. Only Callisto had gotten new robes for not sorting into Slytherin as Sarah and Mina had. But while she could sit here and try to dig through the logic, Evy also realized—she didn’t want to. ”I guess I am stupid. Too stupid to realize the only nice thing I can do for you is sex, apparently.”

Angrily, she wiped away the tears, even though they still fell. For all the anger she felt toward the man before her, much of it was also directed at herself. Why was she here? ”If you don’t want the tie--fine.” Evy walked over to Nate’s thrown jacket on the dining chair, not a care in the world if she stepped on any glass, and retrieved the box she’d gifted him not a few hours earlier.

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[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

NATE WAS TOO FAR GONE TO SEE EVY TAKE AN involuntary step away from him. To see the uncertainty, that maybe she was seeing someone other than him standing before her, brandishing an opened bottle of whiskey. All he saw that the look of superiority on his colleagues faces. All he felt was that horrid, sickening sensation of shame that he had worked so hard to lock away. Her voice, each interruption sharp despite her obvious hesitation, did nothing but incite Nate further.

The bottle rained shards of glass across Nate's shoulders where it crashed against the kitchen cabinets. Dangerous little sparkles that clung to his button-down and left shallow welts across the side of his neck and a small cut along the back of his ear. He couldn't feel it beyond the rushing in his ears, the heft of breath dragging audibly through his lungs as he panted through his fingers. What was wrong with him?, the thought had occurred to him before, had been used against him. Nate still felt righteous enough that her high-pitched, pained voice did not pull him back. When he pulled his hands away from his face, it was to find that she was crying.

"You're not listening to me," He huffed, though it was unfair as he hadn't really listened to her either. "It's not about the tie- for fucksake-" He paused his tirade. Turning in a hurry, Nate pulled an uneven strip of kitchen towel from the roll that sat abandoned behind the bread bin. He threw it in her direction, a slither of unkempt magic sending it across the small space to flutter against Evy's chest. "It's about what that... it makes me look fucking stupid, didn't you see the way they were looking at me?!" He spat, his face red with the humiliation of it. "Like you're my fucking mother, or something." His expression crumpled in disgust and he scratched an angrily hand down the back of his head as he started to pace the floor.

"You're not my fucking girlfriend, Evy!" Nate screamed across the room, stopping in place to gesture wildly with clawed hands. "We don't buy fucking 30 galleons worth of hand-stitched silk for each other because we fuck a couple times a week!" He laughed coldly, though there was a twinge somewhere in the middle of his chest at the streaks of tears that had carved their way down Evy's cheeks. Almost glistening in the space between them. She looked sentimental, and it made Nate feel like he was going to be sick.

"I thought you understood, I thought we agreed." Nate declared with a wild look in his eyes. "It was simple, it was good." He told her, feeling like he was lost in a haze of anger and embarrassment. He watched Evy move from tearful confessions to marching across the room. Nate could only stare as she stooped and tore into his robes, pulling the well wrapped box from where he'd tucked it away in his inside pocket. "It's too fucking late now!" He gawped stupidly, knowing that she had moved from that sheepish confusion to sharing his anger. "You've lost the fucking plot!" He huffed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of how he'd have to face his bosses, his new colleagues on Monday and explain himself like he was in the fucking Witch Weekly. "I mean, sure, take it back! I'll only sell it to pay my fucking rent." He spat with a haughty sarcasm. 

evelyn rhea oliveira

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[evelyn rhea oliveira]

i'm not in love

it's just a game we do

March 2, 2029
Nathaniel David Forrester

Evy’s growing anger made it easy to brush off Nate’s responses. However, as the slight Nate intended to cause began to grow, Evy couldn’t hold herself back either. Scoffing, she still didn’t understand this lunacy he was going on about. ”Now you’re just imagining things. Just because I bought you a gift doesn’t mean—” Nate screamed again across the small room. The force of his words knocked the wind out of her mid-sentence, wrapping its cruel and cold fingers tightly around her throat. While he continued, red-faced and uncontrolled, Evy processed this fact. A fact that was known however long it went unsaid.

She knew they were not dating. They had both lived their lives. Despite how much time she spent with the man before her, Evy did have a social life. Other faces came to mind, others she interacted with or even slept with occasionally. How often did she end up in Mal’s bed after a night out, especially when actively avoiding Nate? But where did Evy always end up in the end? But the way he’d thrown those words at her...as if Evy had the audacity to play such a role or, Merlin forbid, care. Then, she would take the tie back. Return it, get her Galleons back, and buy something for herself instead. Merlin—maybe she’d buy several ties for her growing nephew. He’d need them one day.

But the hurt that burned in Evy’s chest let her ignore the tiny bits of glass that cut her feet while she dug around his jacket. ”No, you’re right, Nate.” Her voice was almost too cool. Even the tears had stopped as that icy exterior began to return to something people might be more familiar with. ”I’m not your girlfriend, and you aren’t my boyfriend.” Knowing and stating the facts out loud was entirely different. Finally, she found the small box, dropping the jacket wherever it would land. ”But I thought we were friends.” Finally, she looked at him. While her eyes normally accented her environment, they were simply cold and gray. Scoffing, she spoke again bitterly. ”You know what—keep it—do what you will with it. It’s more than you will ever deserve. Especially from me.” Evy bore into him with her eyes. This anger and frustration held back the hurt he’d cause. A temporary damn because Evy would rather lose a limb than show Nathaniel Forrester how deeply he’d hurt her.

Part of her wanted to throw the box at his face, but she just let it fall on top of his jacket. ”Goodbye, Nate.” Now, she began to feel the pressure behind her eyes. Evy felt exhausted and unwilling to fight this further. She was just done. ”Find someone else to be your convenient little side piece.” So much lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing what she really thought. He wasn’t worth it anymore, and she never wanted to fucking hear from him again. Momentum kept Evy moving as she returned to the door. Fortunately, the bigger bits of glass had not flown in her direction. Whatever she stepped on, she would deal with literally anywhere else. Without hesitation, Evy picked up her shoes and swung the door open.

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[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

THERE WERE A LOT OF THINGS NATE HATED, BUT being made out to be a liar topped it for him most of all. Even when he was lying. The idea that she dismissed his very legitimate concerns about being poorer than his colleagues irked him in a way that went beyond his anger. He felt it, cold and creeping as she looked at him like he was crazy, like he was making it all up just to fight with her. Maybe that was why he'd screamed it so heartlessly, the reminder like a slap to them both. They weren't together.

The blow landed, Nate could tell. Evy's emotional expression shuttered, her eyes going dangerously blank, like a door slammed shut. Her posture closing and stance strengthening. She was no longer trying to appeal to his better nature. Instead, when she did speak, it cracked like dry ice. He felt the sting of it, backhanded and self inflicted as it was. She echoed his sentiments, but with far less passion. As if he had reminded her of all the reasons she didn't need to be there. He almost moved toward her, foot hovering a step before he slammed it down stubbornly. He couldn't go to her, it would be like forgiveness. And she didn't... get... it.

"My friends wouldn't show off with a ridiculous tie." He replied meanly, his voice verging on petulant as he crossed his arms and felt the wet press of his bloodied collar tickle the nape of his neck. "Fine," He shrugged, reaching down to pick the box up where it landed at his feet. He tossed it onto the kitchen counter behind him and shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "I'll use it to wipe my fucking arse on the Ministry floor." He retorted, but it didn't feel quite as satisfactory as he hoped.

"Go on then, leave!" He yelled at her back, a restless hand coming up to card through his hair. "I don't know why you fucking bothered coming to begin with!" And he didn't really, in hindsight. Why had she come all the way to his flat knowing he was angry, knowing what would likely follow. The obvious answer was because she cared, but Nate didn't want to think that, because thinking that made him feel awful. It made him feel guilty. "I'm sure you'll find another fucking charity case before the end of the week!" He added, watching her grab her shoes and thinking of how badly it all had ended. "That's if you haven't already." And then the door swung closed and Nate was alone, again.

[END NATE?]

evelyn rhea oliveira

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!