silver springs | nate

[evelyn rhea oliveira]

I'll follow you down

'Til the sound of my voice
will haunt you

March 22, 2029
Nathaniel David Forrester

A mild annoyance followed Evy the entire week. Why? After confirming that her jacket had been left in Nate’s flat, Evy realized she hadn’t asked when he would be home. But Merlin, if she didn’t know his entirely predictable schedule and habits already. Part of her felt tempted to ask anyway, but she also didn’t feel like speaking to him in any way, shape, or form more than necessary. It didn’t matter that this jacket wasn’t particularly important, but she’d needed it that day, and then the realization of where it must still be hit her. The memory flooded back with force. That night, Evy did not want to think about or dwell on.

But what did it matter? Could she not just use her savings to purchase another jacket? Probably, but the thought of Nate still being able to get his arrogant hands over anything that belonged to Evy filled her with the sort of anger that felt foreign. The kind of rage she had witnessed in her mother and sister’s eyes on various occasions. When Evy had sent that text, she had wished Nate had tossed, burned, or sold the item rather than kept it. Why in Merlin’s name would he keep it? As Thursday approached, Evy finished her slowest day of work ever. Honestly, she worked twelve hours in the eight hours. Somehow, the clock appeared charmed to move slower than usual. She took a breath to steady herself. This would be a quick interaction. Evy walked up the steps and knocked. There wasn’t anything to say—Evy had nothing to say to Nathaniel Forrester. She only wanted what was hers.

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[Nathaniel David Forrester]

now you see me.

NATE KNEW SEEING EVY AGAIN WAS A TERRIBLE idea. He knew it like he knew taking her to that fancy dinner had been a rubbish idea, too. And yet, ever since she had stormed out in the wake of his fury, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. Considering that days had become entwined with hers, his weekends spent wrapped around her, or sipping searing coffee in cafe windows, pretending they were just a couple of 'mates' hanging around.

When he'd texted her, the first of many, it had been like an involuntary twitch. Not entirely an action of his own free will, or so he told himself. He found the spare toothbrush next to his sink, and binned it. He'd plucked hair of hers from his jacket, and flicked it away. Her stupid breakfast bars were in his cupboard, he'd eaten them all entirely out of spite while so drunk he couldn't see straight. And her stupid, expensive, lovingly worn leather jacket had sat hung over his dingy wrought iron breakfast chair for more than a week before he'd decided to either burn it, or make her come and retrieve it. Only one of those options meant Nate had to see her. He'd texted her about that too.

Half days were Nate's least favourite work days, because he always felt like he was shirking out by leaving early. He often stayed late, and perhaps Evy would have liked it if he had so she could slip into his flat and make away with her jacket without facing him, he was sure. Instead, he'd left his stupid colleagues in the dust and ambled home through the Floo-connection with a twist in his gut. Typically, Evy forgave him with little fanfare whenever they had a tiff - and tiff they often did. But, she'd gone totally radio silent this time around, and Nate was a lot of things, but he wasn't naive. He knew he'd crossed a line, but he was terrible at feeling sorry.

Shucking off his robes, and hanging them in his sagging excuse for a wardrobe, Nate loosened the top two buttons of his shirt and spent a lot of time staring over the top of the wardrobe. Sitting, gathering dust, was that same giftbox that had caused all of the trouble. He remembered those first few days after the dinner. How Barty had asked him why he wasn't wearing his 'eleven silk collar'. Another tittering as they'd suggested he might have pawned it for 'spare silver'. He'd nicked all their monogrammed stationary and stuffed it into the pizza parlours ovens below his flat.

Opening the box, Nate stared at the burgundy silk until his eyes begun to sting. Then, on a whim of pure insanity, he pulled the tie free and hid it in the top pocket of his white shirt, where it bulged slightly. Eventually, he allowed himself the privilege of pouring a glass of cordial from his dodgy fridge and drank it down in great big gulps before he opened a window and lit a cigarette. Peering down on the street below and waiting, rather impatiently, for any sign of that wicked, stubborn, bitch of a girl. 

evelyn rhea oliveira

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[evelyn rhea oliveira]

I'll follow you down

'Til the sound of my voice
will haunt you

March 22, 2029
Nathaniel David Forrester

Taking her time up the steps, the breeze brought the smell of a cigarette to her nose. It wasn’t an unfamiliar scent, but in this location, she thought of him. It was only mildly infuriating because she had done so well not to think about Nate for the most part. And then he’d slip back to the forefront as easily as he’d always slip back into her life every time Evy swore to herself she was done with him. This time was different, Evy felt resolute in her decision and was only here for the jacket. That was all, and then, for certain, she never had to see or think of Nathaniel Forrester ever again.

Knocking on the door, Evy already began to feel impatient. He was really dragging this out, wasn’t he? Probably already plotting how to get Evy back into his head before it was even half past the hour. Again, she knocked harder this time. ”Nate—I just want my jacket.” Evy spoke loudly through the thin door. After a few more moments of nothing Evy knocked one last time before retrieving her phone. Just as her thumbs moved to type a message, the door opened. Keeping her expression neutral, Evy ignored the way her stomach flipped at the sight of him.

She put her phone back in her pocket and remained steadfast where she stood. ”So? Where is it?” Considering Nate could cross from one side of his flat to the other in a handful of large strides, she would wait right here for her stuff.

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