He spreads his hands helplessly. "I know it's hard to believe, but apparently even I am not perfect.,
Watching as she fiddles with the radio, Leo tries not to think about how cute Natalie is when she bites her lip like that, like she's hyperfocused on whatever task she's set her mind to, no matter how small. Hearing the one song, he can't help but snort. "You still have recordings of you and Enjolras?"
"Duh," she barked, rolling her eyes as if that was such a ridiculous question to ask her. The car rests at a stop light and she turns her smile onto him again.
"They're always a surprise on long trips," she continues. "Sometimes, I just burst out laughing in surprise, especially with that cover of 'Let It Go' we did with the kids toys."
"That was pretty ridiculous," he says with a laugh. "But that was like, forever ago. Do you usually keep souvenirs like that?"
He's just going to pretend he doesn't still keep those protective stones she used to give him in his tool belt, or that bracelet from the court thing back at camp. That is completely irrelevant.
Natalie lightly touches her neck, under her denim shirt, where one necklace sits with her old camp beads and a peculiar pendant. She says nothing, only shrugging a shoulder and maintaining that cheeky look of hers.
"Everyone should have a tool belt like mine." Too bad he wasn't planning on making one for anyone else. They could find their own, just as he did.
"You know, you could probably market those," he says thoughtfully, stretching out as much as the little car would allow for the short drive. "I dunno how anyone lives without something like this. I dunno how I lived without it, before I found the Bunker."
"I really should get this patented," Natalie agrees. "I applied the same magic to my car. I usually just tell people I'm really good with luggage storage, but all of that's magic."
All of this also may entirely be inspired by a particular series about kid wizards Natalie used to read when she was younger. She probably shouldn't have mentioned the bags, though; it just makes her think of the first time she brought him home.
"Oh." Talking about her luggage only serves to remind him that she's only going to be here for another day or two, and then she'll be gone again, and who knows for how long. Or if he'll be in the picture when she does return, something he doesn't want to think about. Even these short little flings of theirs are better than nothing.
"Well," he continues, determined to stay bright and enjoy what little time they do have, "you're already finding new and improved uses for it. You could totally make a killing on this."
"I guess I could market it here, though I wouldn't really be around to see if my business is going well or not," Natalie muses, not wanting to be so heavy handed with every single reminder that all of this is transient. She's sure Leo can see through her methods of keeping the conversation casual when she can, an attempt to distance herself from him without putting up too many barriers. They were friends first.
Never mind that Natalie initiated almost every new step in their relationship.
"That's what the internet is for," Leo reminds her, trying to grin again. It... kind of hurts, being reminded of the distance they need to keep, not to mention a little, well, confusing. He knows how he feels about Natalie, sure - but he has no idea what she really wants, so determined she is to stay 'friends' but still kisses his senseless as soon as they're alone, especially when it doesn't always stop there.
"Anyway, drive-through? Or I could go in, it's no big. The fries are awesome, though; you'll love them."
"No, we can do that. More convenient," she says, turning into the driveway.
"I've got this." Natalie instantly summoning her wallet from her bag on the floor. "They better not disappoint." Her voice is a little quiet now, as if she can sense that hurt from where she sits. And maybe she can. She likes to think she knows him better than most.
"I was gonna offer - my idea and all." His wallet's somewhere in his tool belt, but it's not an issue to find it if Natalie changes her mind. He shrugs; it really doesn't matter, but the fries are worth it.
"They won't," he promises. "I think they've got some kind of secret ingredient. That's gotta be why I couldn't recreate them at home. I'm on a mission to figure out what it is, and ironically, it isn't actually rosemary."
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Watching as she fiddles with the radio, Leo tries not to think about how cute Natalie is when she bites her lip like that, like she's hyperfocused on whatever task she's set her mind to, no matter how small. Hearing the one song, he can't help but snort. "You still have recordings of you and Enjolras?"
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"They're always a surprise on long trips," she continues. "Sometimes, I just burst out laughing in surprise, especially with that cover of 'Let It Go' we did with the kids toys."
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He's just going to pretend he doesn't still keep those protective stones she used to give him in his tool belt, or that bracelet from the court thing back at camp. That is completely irrelevant.
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"I have a lot of stuff," she says finally.
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"You know, you could probably market those," he says thoughtfully, stretching out as much as the little car would allow for the short drive. "I dunno how anyone lives without something like this. I dunno how I lived without it, before I found the Bunker."
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All of this also may entirely be inspired by a particular series about kid wizards Natalie used to read when she was younger. She probably shouldn't have mentioned the bags, though; it just makes her think of the first time she brought him home.
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"Well," he continues, determined to stay bright and enjoy what little time they do have, "you're already finding new and improved uses for it. You could totally make a killing on this."
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Never mind that Natalie initiated almost every new step in their relationship.
"Here we are."
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"Anyway, drive-through? Or I could go in, it's no big. The fries are awesome, though; you'll love them."
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"I've got this." Natalie instantly summoning her wallet from her bag on the floor. "They better not disappoint." Her voice is a little quiet now, as if she can sense that hurt from where she sits. And maybe she can. She likes to think she knows him better than most.
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"They won't," he promises. "I think they've got some kind of secret ingredient. That's gotta be why I couldn't recreate them at home. I'm on a mission to figure out what it is, and ironically, it isn't actually rosemary."