Chapter Fifteen: Nathan
“I don’t wanna be just friends, not now, not ever
Those two words are bullets in my chest…”
− Jason Reeves, Just Friends
NATHAN
“Did a tornado sweep through here, or what?” Scarlett demanded when she saw my room. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, the bed, the cushioned chair in the corner. I had wasted no time in emptying my closet in my attempts to organize an outfit for today.
I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” I said.
Scarlett waved my apology away. “No matter,” she said airily. “I will find you something to wear yet!”
She flitted around the room, picking up pieces of clothing at random and muttering things like “No, not that colour,” and “Hm…this could work.” Finally, she thrust a ball of clothing into my arms.
“Here. Go put this on,” she ordered, pointing to the oriental screen behind which I usually changed.
I hesitated, the thought of changing in the same room with Scarlett unsettling.
“Unless you’re comfortable changing right here,” she said with a smile that would have made most men fall at her feet.
I swallowed, hard. “I’ll change over there,” I said, and started moving towards the screen.
Scarlett frowned, looking disappointed. “You’re no fun, Nathan,” she complained as I stepped behind the partition.
“Your definition of fun and mine are two very different things,” I informed her as I took off my shirt and slipped into the dark blue garment she had chosen for me.
Scarlett laughed, a light tinkling sound. “Oh, I know,” she answered.
I didn’t reply, only pulled on the dark breeches and straightened the shirt over them. Reaching for the leather belt, I fastened that over the pants, too. I stepped out from behind the screen and found Scarlett lying across my bed, her feet in the air. She was reading a book that had been on my nightstand.
She looked up when she heard my footsteps. “Oh good, you’re done,” she said, slamming the book shut. “I couldn’t bear to read one more word of that awful book. Your choice of literature begs improvement.” In one swift movement, she swung her feet off the bed and stood, leaning against the bedpost.
I sighed. “Just tell me how I look.”
Scarlett tapped her chin as she appraised me. “Turn around,” she said, making a twirling motion with her finger.
I spun in a slow circle, feeling rather foolish.
“It’ll do,” she decided. “I wish you had let me dress you more…extravagantly. I could have really had some fun with that,” she said somewhat wistfully.
The corners of my mouth lifted slightly. “I’m sorry, but it needs be that I do not appear overly ‘extravagant.’”
At this, Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. “Might I inquire as to the occasion that calls for such casual dress?”
“Nothing of your concern,” I replied nonchalantly.
“You are not visiting another monarch and wish to appear less wealthy than you are?” she asked.
“No.”
“Nor are you planning to run away disguised as a peasant?”
"No."
“Hm…” She thought for a moment. “This isn’t, by any chance,” she said. “For a girl, is it?”
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering, “No.”
“Ah, so it is a girl!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “What’s her name?”
I didn’t answer.
She looked up at me with wide eyes. “I just want to know who she is,” she said, her expression just a bit too innocent.
I sighed. “Scarlett, please leave it,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows, amused. “Ooh, touchy,” she said, coming closer. “Someone’s a little over-protective of their precious girlfriend.”
“I’m not over-protective,” I said defensively. “And she’s not my girlfriend.” Although I do not deny that she is precious to me.
Scarlett laughed. “Oh, really? What is she to you, then?”
“I …don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” she repeated slowly. “Well then, I suppose if you are not unavailable, you wouldn’t mind if I did this,” − she put her hands on my shoulders – “or this,”− she slid her hands down my chest − “or this.” She flicked open the top button of my shirt.
I drew back, and she dropped her hand.
She smiled, unabashed. “See? You do care. So do not lie and say that she is not your beloved when one can clearly see that she is.”
I refastened the button. “I believe that, in order for the term ‘girlfriend’ to be valid, she must return my affections,” I said, trying not to let the hurt show in my voice. In actuality, however, my heart ached as I was reminded of what I could not – and should not – have.
Scarlett snorted, the rough sound at odds with her delicate frame. “Please, Nathan. Any man who looks like you has no need to worry about girls returning their affections, and that’s a fact.”
“This girl is different.” In this, at least, I was certain.
She appeared interested. “Is she, now?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip. “This girl, does she not feel the way you do about her?”
“I believe she thinks we are friends, but no more." Once again, I felt the now-familiar pang of longing shoot through my chest.
“And…?” Scarlett seemed to be pressing for information.
I shrugged. “What do you care? It’s not like you to be so interested in my personal affairs,” I said.
Scarlett half-smiled, and looked at me with an expression I didn’t understand. “I just want to know more about the girl who has managed to capture my Nathan’s heart so completely,” she said, then turned and left my room before I could deny that I was hers.