heartstrings

There was a postcard in her mailbox from Seattle.

'sorry I couldn't stay longer, but we knew it wasn't going to last, right?'

Ripping it in half, Nat laughed. of course. of course, he would send a postcard instead of calling or actually saying goodbye, typical Leo, making everything so nonchalant. She hated it but she loved it. She hated it because she loved him. And she hated it because she knew she'd miss him, even though he'd be traveling and probably not even thinking of her.

Going inside, she taped the postcard back together, and sticking it to the fridge, she covered his swirly "Leo Toledo" signature with a magnet.

The door to the coffee shop clanged behind her, drowning out Ian the barista's goodbyes. It wasn't that she didn't like Ian the barista, it was just that she genuinely hated Mondays. She glanced down at the phone she held in her hand and took a sip of coffee.Freaking Mondays. Nat loathed them. Mondays, as she saw it, were the worst days of the week.

She should have thought to step around the gap in the sidewalk like she always did, but again, it was a Monday. The hole between the two slabs of concrete created a niche, the perfect size for a shoe. Nat's shoe, to be exact. The toe of her recently bought, not on sale, suede boot slid in the gap of the concrete and sent Nat flying. She had terrible reflexes, and landed entirely on her stomach when normal people would have caught themselves. The crunch of her coffee cup beneath her sent her stomach dropping, signaling a sense of doom. Then there was laughter.

She knew that laugh, only one person had a guffaw like that. She turned, sitting up.

Leo. Leo fucking Toledo.

Fucking Leo Toledo of Leo Toledo and the Broken Falcon Brothers Band. But she'd known him before he was that. She'd known him as Just Leo, then watched as his music finally got the recognition it deserved, sending him into orbit and pulling them apart.

He smiled at her. And, God, he looked great. His sun-kissed hazel skin looked so clear and dewy she was envious and it seemed life on the road made him softer: his eyes were subdued and ponytailed hair slightly frizzed, a little bit of pudge was covered by the dark sweatshirt he was wearing. She nodded, muttering obscenities. Of course, he couldn't have been in town when she looked really great or anything, because that's just how her luck worked.

"I thought you were in Seattle." Nat muttered, glaring down at her stained shirt and wrecked boots. She'd kept his postcard from Seattle up on her fridge for the past six months, taking it down two days prior. Nat stood up, hating the universe for putting Leo right there when she was at her worst.

"I'm not, obviously." He stated, shrugging. "Let's go in and get you another cup. Or we could drop by my place since it's on your way--"

"Uh, thanks but no thanks. I'll just wear my jacket closed." She replied, promptly zipping her leather jacket shut to cover the stained band tee and moving closer to her car. Leo unwound the scarf from around his neck and draped it on hers.

Nat watched him as he did this, his eyes focused on the task at hand, so she could study his features. It had been so long since she'd seen him last. Life on the road had made him softer and stubble was growing on his chin, something she'd never noticed before. She wasn't sure that it suited him, but then his deep eyes were looking back at her and she needed to look away.

"There. That's better than the stained shirt at least."

The scarf smelled like him, Jack Daniels and Yves Saint Laurent L'Homme. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll call you later?" Leo asked, grinning.

"Text me. You know I don't do calling."