Evie's Job

48: Natalie

Natalie watched Evie sip wine. After a moment, she reached over and touched Evie’s face.

“You’re beautiful,” Natalie said.

Evie looked at her for a moment. “I know you think so.”

“I do.”

“Is that why you want me?”

“Perhaps. Some of it.”

“What else?”

Natalie thought. “You’re like no-one else I’ve ever met.”

“I’m young.”

“You’re free. Of a lot of things.”

“Young.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m self-destructive,” Evie said.

“You are and you aren’t. Perhaps not as much as you think.”

“Maybe,” Evie said. She was swaying a little, as she stood there, and her hand was unsteady as it moved. She seemed to be thinking, too. Thinking the way Natalie was.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Evie said. “I want you to know that.”

“I know. Or at least, I hoped.”

“I promise you, I won’t hurt you on purpose.”

“I know,” Natalie said. “Not on purpose.”

“No.”

“I’m grateful.”

Evie nodded. She tipped the glass back and drank all the wine left in it. She reached over for the bottle and poured herself more. More than Natalie would have poured, Natalie noticed.

“I want to say something,” Evie said. “Just to say it once, so it’s said, so we never need to talk about it again unless we want to.”

“All right,” Natalie said, a little nervous.

“I’m not worth this,” Evie said. “Any of this. Everything you seem to want. I’m not worth what you think of me, I’m honestly not.”

There was a silence.

“That’s all,” Evie said. She looked up from her glass, at Natalie. “I just wanted that said.”

Natalie wasn’t sure how to answer. “I think you are,” she said in the end. “Worth everything.”

Evie shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “I’m not interesting. I’m not fascinating. Or beautiful, actually. I’m not especially anything. I’m no different to anyone else. I’m just young, that’s all, and you’re mixing that up with me being interesting.”

“I don’t agree, but that isn’t important.”

Evie looked at her.

“It isn’t,” Natalie said. “We don’t need to argue about it. I feel what I feel, and you don’t agree. It’s not worth disagreeing over.”

“Maybe.”

“Do we want to disagree? Do we actually want a fight about this?”

“Of course not.”

“Well then,” Natalie said.

“I know. I understand what you’re saying, but…”

Natalie waited.

Evie sipped more wine. She thought. “What if I let you down?” she said.

“Let me down?”

“Yep. Somehow.”

“You aren’t. You won’t.”

“I might. What if I do? What if I hurt you?”

Natalie shrugged. “You’re worth it. The person you are, who I’ve got to know, who I feel this with. This is worth it.”

Evie didn’t seem sure.

“You don’t believe me,” Natalie said.

“I don’t think I do. But you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Not enough to fight about. We can stop talking about it now, if you’d rather.”

“I would. But only if you’re sure.”

Evie nodded. “I am, I think,” she said. “I just wanted that said. And now it is, so we can stop.”

Natalie nodded slowly.

“So that’s that?” Evie said, and sipped. “No more talking about it?”

“Unless you have something more?”

She thought. “Nope. Actually I don’t. I’m not worth it. That’s it. Done.”

“I think you are.”

“Yep, but…”

Natalie grinned. “We should stop talking about it?”

“Yeah.”

“And now we never talk about it again?”

Evie shrugged. “Hopefully. If that’s okay with you.”

Natalie nodded. “I actually think it is.”

“Good,” Evie said, and kissed Natalie again. Evie kissed differently when she was drunk, Natalie noticed. She put her tongue further inside Natalie’s mouth, and grabbed at Natalie more, and was more single-minded about kissing, too. She kissed more intensely, more desperately. Natalie actually quite liked it.

They kissed, and Evie leaned back onto the kitchen counter, and pulled Natalie with her as she went. She had kept hold of her wine, and tasted strongly of it each time she stopped to sip. Her hair was tickling Natalie’s face, and her dress was slippery against Natalie’s hands, and her body was warm pressed against Natalie’s.

They kissed, and Natalie thought. She wondered how drunk Evie was, and seriously she ought to take what Evie had just implied about her feelings, and about the fears she seemed to be hinting that she had. Natalie wasn’t completely sure what to think. She didn’t want to prematurely expect too much, and then be disappointed, but she also didn’t want to just ignore what Evie was feeling if Evie could only tell her after several glasses of wine. Natalie suspected that was what was going on, and it was why Evie had asked for more to drink when they got home. She suspected, but didn’t want to press Evie too intrusively in order to find out.

They kissed, and after a moment Natalie decided to stop worrying and concentrate on that instead.