Jenny can't help but just look at him, a wry glimmer of surprise in her eyes as she watches him for a few moments. She doesn't entirely know what to say to him, or what to think. He's here, now, in front of her, and if she wanted to she could reach out and touch him just to prove to herself that he is, in fact, real. But she doesn't. She just smiles, and watches, and waits a little longer. Maybe he'll volunteer the information she wants so badly, but knowing Nate, it's a stretch to think so.
"So," she murmurs after a long moment, "are you back for good or just... visiting?"
"Visiting," he answers, "at least... well. At least for the time being."
A vague answer. Jenny is almost surprised. Almost. She smiles, and tilts her head at him, resting her hands in her lap to stop the fidgeting. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"I did," he says, brightening a bit. "Looks like things are going really well for you, huh? Your stuff looked great out there."
Her eyes fall, just slightly, skimming along the edge of the table, and Jenny blushes a bit. "I've gotten really lucky, these past few seasons. People seem to like what I make."
"You are in a fickle business, that's for sure. Still. I liked that blue dress near the end."
"The amarillo," she murmurs, "is probably my favorite. Not really a fall dress, but it's got a kind of punch to it that I like."
Nate shrugs. "I can't say my opinion goes any further than, 'it's pretty,' but."
"Since you're not the core demographic for my line of women's clothing, I think I can forgive you," Jenny quips, with a bit of a laugh.
Nate chuckles. "I learned enough from Blair and Serena to have passable taste. That's about where it stops."
"Mm," she agrees. "What have you been up to, then? You did promise to tell me all about it."
"This and that," he hedges, shrugging. "I stayed out in California after I got out of college, got a place, all that. Did some traveling. I actually wound up with an art degree."
"Photography, or actual art?" She raises a brow. "I want details, Archibald."
"You can't major in just photography, or I would've," Nate answers. "But that's what I did most of my courses in, yeah. Mostly it means doing a lot of odd jobs as a freelancer."
Jenny smiles at that. "I'm glad to hear you went after what you loved, though I must admit I'm surprised you're not headlining some West coast gallery."
"Welllll," Nate says, drawing out the word, "it's not totally signed and sealed yet, but... I'm actually in town to do an exhibition. Hopefully."
"Oh!" She claps her hands together, her smile wide and brilliant now as she beams at him. "Really? You'll tell me when it is, won't you, and where? I'd love to go, and you know I have to have one of your pieces for my apartment."
"Really," he affirms, breaking into a smile. "I haven't told anyone else yet. Actually, no one but you even knows I'm in town."
"Your secret's safe with me," she promises, unable to stop grinning. "I'm so glad to see you, Nate, really. I thought for sure I'd lost you to the winds."
"Yeah, well. I wasn't sure I'd ever be back here, to be honest. I didn't really keep in touch with anyone. The occasional letter from Serena, but that was pretty much it." He sighs. "I'm not totally sure how I feel about it."
"The city pushes people out." Jenny nods slowly. "Dan moved to Philadelphia a few summers back, to work for some newspaper."
Nate raises his eyebrows. "Really. This wouldn't have anything to do with Serena's sudden interest in Pennsylvania last I heard from her, by any chance?"
"It's possible," she hedges, the ghost of a smile lighting her features. "But I'm sworn to secrecy, even if you aren't a gossip rag."
He laughs. "Well. Good for them."
Jenny nods. "Dan... grew up, thank God. I was about ready to throw a book at his over-read head, the way he went on about things."
"Had to happen eventually, the growing up. It always does." A pause. "Well, maybe not always. I can think of a couple people who I doubt have changed at all."
"I'm sure they haven't, in fact." She rolls her eyes a bit. "Some people have to be the exception to the rule."
"Something like that. So what about you? What've you been up to, besides taking the fashion world by storm?"
"I wouldn't say I've taken the whole world by storm. Maybe a small corner of the New York scene." She shrugs. "But really, nothing much. Work tends to occupy most of my time. I go out occasionally, see my dad, fly to see Dan every other month or so, when he's not here."
He nods. "They're doing okay then, your family?"
"I suppose. I think my dad really misses his music, but the gallery keeps him so busy he doesn't really have time for anything else."
"Mm. At least it's doing well."
"So... um. Tell me about California? What's it like on the other side of the country?"
"Warm."
"Nate," she insists, "more than one word answers will suffice."
"I don't know. It's nice. More laid-back, not so hectic. I can't tell you how nice it was not to have everyone know my name and all about my family."
"Privacy's a beautiful thing," she agrees. "I love the city, but I do wish I could get out sometime, find somewhere peaceful. But I think I'd get bored."
"You probably would. It was good for me, though. I'd been under pressure long enough."
Jenny gives him an appraising glance. "You look all the better for it, it's true," she murmurs. "California's treated you well. I take it the women are beating down your sensitive artist's door?"
"Right, because the guy who's always off traveling is such stable boyfriend material," Nate replies.
"Better than the compulsive gambler-slash-stock broker or the playboy club owner," Jenny retorts mildly.
Nate rolls his eyes. "No one has any illusions about the playboy club owner as boyfriend material," he says dryly, "that's really not what they're after."
"Unless you're one of those girls who think they can 'reform' everyone."
"Please. Even Blair couldn't manage that."
"The California sun has obviously washed out your imagination," Jenny quips.
Nate shakes his head. "Seriously. No one's ever managed it. Unless it happened while I was gone, but that seems like something Serena would feel a need to tell me about the second it happened."
"Well," Jenny admits, "I was talking theoretically, to be honest. I can't imagine anyone ever reforming Chuck Bass."
"Pretty much my point," he answers.
She nods, resting her chin in her hand thoughtfully as she watches him. It's somewhat unreal, having him here after all this time. "You know, even though I still live in the city, I feel like I live in an entirely different world."
"Well you do, yeah? You were never really one of them." He says 'them' instead of 'us'; his days of belonging to the old Upper East Side cliques seem distant, now, like stories about someone else entirely.
"I suppose I wasn't." Jenny shrugs. "I got used to seeing them every day. Not so much you, or even Chuck, but Serena and Blair were so much a part of my everyday life. Now, I wouldn't know what they were up to if someone asked me. I don't keep up with it."
"I don't really, either. I hear bits and pieces here and there, but that's pretty much where it stops. I mean... I still miss them sometimes, but. I've got my own stuff."
"Life goes on outside the Upper East Side," Jenny murmurs in agreement. "And, honestly, I've never been better."
Nate smiles. "You look good," he agrees quietly.
She blushes, just barely, and can't help but smile back. "You too, Archibald."
The smile deepens a bit, dimpling his cheeks. "It's the California tan."
"A lot more than that," she teases, grinning a bit.
His eyebrows quirk up. "If you say so."
Jenny just nods. "It's not like you've ever been unattractive, after all."
"I'm not old enough that how I look would've changed that much, Jenny," he responds.
"Well, still," she replies, a bit flustered.
Nate is quiet for a moment, just looking at her with the light catching in his eyes. "It really is good to see you again," he finally tells her.
Jenny can't help but beam prettily at him, resting her hands in her lap. "I've missed you, you know. I didn't want to sound clingy or anything before, but I am glad you sought me out."
"I think we're pretty well past clingy by now," he points out, "it's been how many years? But I think I'm glad I did, too."
"Just a few," she murmurs, tilting her head at him. "But they've flown by, haven't they."
Nate tilts his head slightly. "I guess they kind of have. Weird to think about."
"Mm. I feel like I should be asking more questions, that can't possibly be all you've done."
"It's the main stuff. School, then work. Some traveling." A pause. "I learned to surf," he adds, almost an afterthought.
"Did you really?" Jenny grins. "Dan taught me to ski last winter, but that sounds immensely harder."
"It's not bad once you get the hang of it. I'm definitely not as good as some of my friends, though."
"It sounds blissful," she murmurs softly. "Maybe I'll go there sometime, for a vacation. If I ever take one."
"Look me up, if you do," he says, "I'll show you around, if I'm there."
"Of course," Jenny replies, almost automatically. "I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."
"Better not," he teases.
"Or what?" she retorts pleasantly. "Going to send the sharks after me?"
"I'll speak sternly to you," Nate answers with a grin.
"Ooh. I'm scared, really. Shaking in my non-existent boots."
"Hey, I'm fearsome," he jokes.
"Fearsome like a baby puppy, maybe," Jenny teases. "You and your California machismo don't scare me."
"Those things bite," Nate replies, and glances at his watch. "Hey, listen, I know it's getting kind of late, but... if you're interested, I have a bunch of my work here with me, it's all up in my hotel room."
She blinks at him for just a moment, the words taking a little bit longer than they should to process in her head, before nodding. "I'd like that. Let me cover this check, for once?"
"If you insist," he agrees.
"I do. It's only fair," she murmurs before setting her cup down on the table and getting up to retrieve the check.
Jenny comes back a few minutes later, rolling her eyes and muttering something about 'overpriced liquid refreshment', and holds a hand out to him. "Shall we?"
"Sure thing," he agrees, getting up and closing his hand around hers. "I'm staying just down the block."
"I don't mind the walk," she assures him as they make their way out of the still crowded little cafe. The air is cool, with the sun down, and Jenny falls into step with him easily enough. "It's almost quiet, for the city," she remarks idly.
"For the city." He's quiet for a minute. "I was down in New Mexico for about a week, this one time. Middle of nowhere. I don't think I've ever been any place so silent, it was incredible."
She shivers a bit at the thought. It's almost unimaginable, complete silence. Even in the heart of a building, with the lights off and everyone home, there's always the slight hum of the city, as if New York has a life of its own. "Wow," she murmurs, unable to really say much else. "I can't even imagine."
"It was... strange. Really, really strange. But not bad. And the stars were absolutely amazing at night."
"You know," Jenny replies softly, "I don't think I've ever seen real stars. Cloudy imitations, maybe; surely a helicopter or twenty, but I don't think I've ever seen the stars, naturally."
"You should get out of the city one of these days," he replies. "Just take off, go somewhere with nothing around. It's... it's an experience."
"I always say I'm going to, just get out and go somewhere completely unexpected... but I never do. I visit Dan, sometimes, or go up to Hudson to see my mother. But I've never been anywhere really natural. I'd kill to visit somewhere like the Grand Canyon someday."
"I don't think killing is really necessary," Nate says mildly.
"Pay a great deal of money and possibly some other form of currency for, then. Is that better, milord?"
He wrinkles his nose at her. "Don't call me that, please."
Jenny shrugs. "As you wish. More of a Princess Bride pseudo-reference, but then, I tend to mess those up."
Nate makes a noncommittal noise and pushes open the hotel door as they reach it, then leads her to the elevator and hits the button. "I'm not a huge movie person, honestly."
Jenny can't help but be slightly paranoid as they enter the hotel- the behavior is ingrained in her from long before, and there is little she can do to prevent herself from glancing over her shoulder once or twice. "Makes sense," she agrees idly. "What floor did you say you were on?"
"I didn't, but eighth."
"Mm." Jenny squeezes his hand- "No reason," she tells him idly- and nods, watching the light of the elevator with a slightly bemused expression.
The doors slide open and they step inside, the only two as it ascends toward the eighth floor. Nate leans against the side as it goes, looking over at her with a slight smile.
"Something on your mind?" she murmurs, amused, as the elevator dings each floor. The doors open, once, on the sixth floor, and Jenny chuckles, reaching over to hit the 'close door' button.
"Yes and no," he says noncommittally (almost says 'you'), and the elevator comes to a stop at the eighth floor for them to get out. He fishes around in his jacket pocket for his room key as they walk down the hall, pulling it out just as they reach his door.
Jenny lets out a soft murmur, an agreeable noise, and watches with an idle smile as he digs around for his key to open the door. "Still the gentleman," she notes as he holds it open for her.
"Old habits die hard," he answers with a slightly self-deprecating smile. "This friend of mine from college used to lay into me every time I did it."
"It's not a bad thing," Jenny remarks. "Rare, nowadays, though."
"You'd have learned to do it too, if you had Blair glaring at you whenever you forgot."
She just shrugs. "I can't say the end result wasn't worth it."
"Maybe to you." He lets the door fall shut and heads over to the drawers, glancing back over his shoulder to add, "Sit, make yourself comfortable."
She nods, rather unnecessarily since he's not watching, and takes a seat in the corner of the little sofa on the side of the parlor room, if one can call it that. "Do you always keep your work in the room with you, then?"
"Depends," he answers, pulling out a portfolio and starting to flip through its contents. "Not always, but since I'm here for a show, I kind of need to have it on hand."
"Makes sense," she agrees. "Really, you don't have to look for anything special, Nate. I'd love to see all of it, if I had the opportunity."
"More a matter of finding what's where," he answers, still rifling through as he walks back over. "Some of it's a little out of order from trying to pick and choose things."
Jenny hums softly, watching him with a slightly bemused expression as he wanders back. "Don't trip, now," she warns teasingly.
He just makes a noncommittal noise and sits down next to her, portfolio on his lap. "Older stuff first, I guess," Nate says, and pulls out a piece he'd done early in college, a black-and-white portrait of a young woman in heavy shadow, eyes standing out bright and sharp against the darkness.
She has to lean over him slightly to get a good look at the piece, and when she does, Jenny clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth appreciatively. "I love the edges of it, how clean they look even with the shadow. And her eyes, oh, wow."
"She's got incredible eyes for portrait work, yeah," Nate says. "That's Daria. Fellow art student, there's more shots of here in here."
Jenny nods, looking back and forth between the picture and Nate for a moment. "Can I see another?"
"That's kind of the point, isn't it? Actually... would you rather just look through yourself? Might be easier."
She nods, grinning. "I'd love to, rather." Jenny has to hold herself back from pulling the portfolio out of his hands, waiting somewhat patiently for him to hand it over instead.
Nate hands it over with a slight smile and a gentle reminder not to smudge the pictures, even though he doubts the latter is really necessary.
"I would never," she murmurs, pretending to be affronted, as she lightly turns to the next piece. She goes slowly, pausing to take in each one, and tells him each reaction. One piece, a particularly well-done landscape, makes her draw in a breath and Jenny turns to him. "I want that."
"I could make you a copy, I've still got the negative," he murmurs, looking over her shoulder. "I like that one too. Landscapes usually give me all kinds of trouble, but that one turned out."
"I'd pay you for it," she assures him. "It's just beautiful, Nate, really."
"Hey," he says, "you're a friend. You can have it."
Jenny turns her hand over, squeezing his gently, and looks up at him. "This is your livelihood we're talking about, though. I don't mind, you know."
Nate's lips twitch. "Compromise. Half price?"
"Absolutely," she agrees. "As long as half price is at least the cost of a nice dinner."
He slants a glance at her. "You could just take me out for one and call it even."
"That was the point I was getting to," Jenny admits, smiling, "if you are amenable to the idea."
"More than amenable," Nate tells her, and squeezes her hand gently.
"Excellent," she murmurs, using her free hand to turn the pages of the portfolio. The pieces flick past her, shot after shot, but Jenny isn't quite as focused on the actual artwork as she was before.
Nate is quiet as she looks through, pausing her only occasionally when something needs explanation or has a story behind it worth telling. Mostly, though, he just lets her look it all over, a calm presence at her side.
A portrait of Blair catches her eye, and Jenny pauses on it for a few moments, admiring the familiar setting of the ballroom against the unfamiliar sight of a solitary Blair. She turns the page after a while, going through the next few in a quiet bemusement, until a warm, hazy shot of a summer morning puts her entirely off-guard. It, too, is familiar, but Jenny only thinks she recognizes the girl sleeping in the picture. Blonde hair, very familiar sheets (she'll never quite get the feel of those sheets out of her memory bank), curled up on her side. She looks up at him, brow raised, and thinks about how best to phrase the question that has come to mind.
Nate's lips curve into a soft, fond smile, and he meets her gaze. "Look familiar?" he asks her softly.
"Yes," she murmurs, nudging him gently, and turns her eyes back onto the portrait. "I can't believe that... that you took this, that it's in your portfolio, that that's even me."
"What can I say," Nate replies, "you make a beautiful subject. Not exactly surprising, for a beautiful girl."
Jenny blushes, a deep scarlet, and ducks her head, running a fingertip along the edge of the picture. She can't quite bring herself to turn the page. "It's a... wow. I don't know what to say about it that won't sound horribly egotistical."
Nate chuckles softly. "You don't have to say anything," he tells her. "It's probably my favorite of you."
"You have more than one?"
"Of course I do."
"I didn't know that," she murmurs quietly. "I didn't know you had any, after all."
"I don't usually take them when people know I am," he explains. "It always ends up looking posed. Kind of forced. There isn't a single shot in there of anyone you'd recognize that was taken when they knew about it."
Jenny nods, glancing down at the portrait once more and shaking her head. "God, you're good," she mutters idly before finally closing the portfolio, resting it on her lap and looking up at him. "
"All that college education had to teach me something."
She shrugs. "I don't think art is, entirely, something you can learn. Technical parts of it, I'm sure-- I took classes in clothing construction, and design technique-- but you can't learn passion." A soft, almost playful smile stretches across her lips and Jenny leans back to nudge him gently. "And it's obvious you're passionate about your art."
Nate smiles slightly and looks down. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "It... I'm glad I didn't back down on this one."
"So am I," Jenny agrees softly, running her thumb along the binding of the portfolio.
"I came close," he admits, "but that's probably not actually that surprising."
"Close only counts in hand grenades, horseshoes, and something else that I've forgotten," she quips.
"Point taken." A pause. "It's kind of a shame I had to leave you, though."
Jenny nods, her eyes blinking slowly as she tries not to look too caught off-guard. "I... understood, though. Why you had to."
"Still." It's softly spoken, and he says no more after it. Doesn't have anything more to say, or nothing he knows how to.
"Still nothing." She's thought about it, every once in a while. What she would say, what she would feel, if it was ever brought up. "You had to, that's it. There weren't any other options, were there?"
"I guess not," he agrees, "I couldn't have stayed."
"And I couldn't have gone, had you wanted me to or not." Jenny shrugs, though it's practically forced, and looks up at him. "No hard feelings."
"I know. That wasn't what I meant."
"I'm probably not making this very easy, then, with my interruptions, am I?"
"I kind of expect it from you," he tells her, and takes the portfolio from her hands to set it aside.
She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, a soft chuckle escaping her as she watches him. "Is that right?"
"You're still you," Nate answers, looking up at her. There's a faint smile on his lips and an odd note in his voice, difficult to place.
"Who else would I be?" Jenny replies. Her smiles are always brighter, wider, more teasing when they banter like this, light-hearted and often silly.
He shakes his head, very slightly, and reaches up to lightly press a finger to her lips. "If you don't stop me," Nate murmurs, "I'm going to kiss you."
"If I stop you, do it anyway." She can't help but laugh, pulling his hand away to lean up and press her lips to his. The element of surprise is always nice, she thinks idly.
Nate's eyes fall shut, and the hand she had pushed off finds purchase at the nape of her neck, fingers twining into her hair, holding her against him. The kiss is slow, unhurried; re-learning, after so many years apart.
Her mouth curves against his, her body remembering what she's made herself forget, and Jenny would be smiling if she wasn't otherwise occupied. Her hand curls around his shoulder, holding him in, as if he would be gone if she let go.
Nate has to check the impulse to whisper her name against her lips, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, only manages to because he doesn't want to break the kiss. His chest feels tight with all too much emotion, and it's hard to force the feeling down (it's just a kiss, and the oversensitive artist is such a goddamn cliché).
It's been long, too long, since she has done this, any of this, and she wants to just bottle this moment and keep it somewhere safe. Keep it, in case this is just the one moment before everything goes back. Jenny has a habit of falling into Cinderella stories, after all. Her thumb brushes along his collarbone, above the soft fabric of his shirt, and her fingertips press in, just barely, against his shoulder.
"This is what I was trying to say," Nate finally whispers when they break the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes flicking open again.
She smiles then, warm and soft as she catches her breath. "You always were rather eloquent."
"Liar," Nate says, though his tone is fond. "I never was."
"In all the ways that matter, you were," Jenny teases affectionately, leaning up to press a kiss against the tip of his nose.
Nate doesn't answer, just wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in to sit crosswise on his lap. He doesn't let go once she's there, either, just tips his head to look up at her, his hair falling into his eyes.
She lets out a little laugh, curling up against him and kicking her flats off to bring her feet up against his legs. "You need a haircut, Archibald."
"Blasphemy," Nate tells her, "it's fine how it is."
"I can't even see your eyes," she insists. "That should be a federal crime."
His lips quirk. "I think that's a little extreme."
Jenny just grins. "It's the truth. I am the resident fashion expert, after all."
Nate shifts, deliberately jostling her a little. "Not a hairstylist."
"Heyyyy," she protests, catching her hands on his arms to steady herself. "None of that, now."
Nate shakes his hair back from his face a bit to widen his eyes at her, innocent baby blues framed by lashes Serena once claimed she envied, albeit mostly to make Nate cringe. "None of what?"
"None of that shaking me about," she insists, matching his gaze. "And none of those puppy eyes. They don't work on me."
"I thought hiding my eyes was criminal," Nate answers, blinking up at her. "There's just no pleasing you."
"There's a difference," Jenny tells him matter-of-factly, though her smile belays the amusement, "between trying to persuade me with puppy eyes and letting me see you."
"Who said anything about persuasion?" A beat. "Yet," he amends.
She just laughs. "Exactly."
Nate's lips twitch into a faint smile, and he lets his head drop to rest against her shoulder, lips brushing a light kiss to the side of her neck. "Hush."
"And by the way," she murmurs, "they do work on me. It's just not fair."
The smile deepens. "I know."
Jenny rolls her eyes. "Don't you dare."
"Don't I dare.... what? Know?"
"Try it," she clarifies. "I am not above revenge."
Nate frowns a little at that. "I'm not that manipulative," he says, sounding a little put off.
"Oh, no," Jenny admits, smiling, "but your eyes, they have a mind of their own."
"Weird image," Nate replies, but he sounds mollified.
She brushes her lips against his cheek softly, in a sort of apology. "You're just a regular Prince Charming, you know that?"
"Stop, stop," he protests, "don't say that."
"Don't worry," Jenny murmurs, chuckling, "I've got an eye on the clock. It's not midnight yet."
Nate frowns a bit and looks up at her. "Seriously, though. I got out of the Prince Charming business a long time ago."
"About the same time I gave up my Cinderella fantasies?" She smiles up at him, trying to be reassuring. "I know, Nate."
"I guess so. I don't know, it never fit me." He shrugs a bit. "I don't miss it.'
Jenny shrugs. "It's not you. I mean... the charming bit, yeah, you're charming, but you don't try to be."
"It just never felt like me. Not totally sure how it happened, since I never really knew anything else, but. There it is."
"Good to know." She looks up at him for a moment, her expression serious, before a stream of soft giggles escapes her.
"What?"
Jenny just laughs, curling up against him as she holds a hand to her stomach. "I don't-- you just looked so sad, for a minute, and I didn't know why. Poor baby."
"Sorry," he says quietly, "I don't think that habit's one I'm going to manage to break soon."
"Hey," she replies gently, "I know that. Don't be sorry."
Nate shakes his head a little. "I think I'm just in kind of a weird mood."
Jenny nods, rubbing his shoulder softly. "Want to get something to eat, maybe? I didn't get a chance before the show, and I'm sure you could afford a bit on your bones."
"I'm pretty good where I am," Nate says, leaning into the touch a bit, "but we could get room service if you need food."
"Just pretty good? That'll never do," she teases, scratching along his back gently in little swirling motions. "I was going to say I could cook for you, but no need. Some other time."
"I didn't know you cook," he murmurs, a little distractedly
"I'm no chef, but I can make a decent meal," she admits. "It's relaxing."
"Well, then I may just take you up on that sometime."
Jenny smiles warmly, her fingertips splaying out over his back for a moment, still against his shirt. "I'd really like that."
"I think I would too," he agrees, and presses another brief kiss to her lips.
"You'll have to be more sure than that, Mr. Archibald," she murmurs, before following his lead and pressing her mouth to his. There's something effortless about it, the way she can kiss him without really thinking about the how and the where and all the little details that she would normally be so consumed by. It doesn't need to be perfect to feel right.
He just pulls her in a little closer in answer, lips on hers instead of talking. It still feels a little unreal, even with her right there, a warm weight on his lap, soft lips and the faint smell of her perfume. He keeps half-expecting to wake up.
She lifts her lips from his, just for the briefest of moments, before dusting soft kisses along his neck. Jenny is smiling, just barely, against his skin, and every so often she lets out a noise that sounds almost like laughter. Happiness is like liquid, it just bubbles up in her, and Jenny is happy to admit that she's bubbling, right now.
Nate makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and lets his head fall back against the couch, and his eyelids give a brief flutter. He exhales on a near-sigh, and one hand skims up her side and then over and down her spine.
"Mm," she mumbles, shivering a bit at the contact, and nips just barely at the crook of his neck. Her free hand, the one not occupied with gentle scratching circles against his back, comes up to brush a fingertip ever-so-gently along his eyelids, his cheekbones, his lips, just the slightest pressure.
When her fingers brush his lips, Nate's eyes flick open and he catches a fingertip gently between his teeth, a gentle little nip. There's a playful sparkle in his eyes, though it seems overlain on something much deeper, much more intense.
Jenny smiles, slow and sweet, and waits until he's released her finger to catch his mouth with hers. There's a bit more insistence, a stronger feel to it, but she doesn't push too much.
It is Nate who pushes, a little, though perhaps a bit unsure– he doesn't quite know where he stands with her, what she even wants or expects from him. Not really. Even so, he deepens the kiss and catches her against him with one arm, though not so tightly she couldn't slip free if she really wanted.
Her hands slide, one carding into his hair- there is a slight feel of amusement at mussing it up in the back of her mind- and the other arm wrapping around his neck loosely. Jenny is not quite as shy as she was, not now and not alone, and she takes his push as a bit of a challenge, pushing right back at his lead. The tip of her tongue brushes against the line of his teeth and she closes her eyes, finally.
It's so, so easy to just surrender himself to the kiss, to her, to let himself just get lost in the heady rush of emotion and connection and awakening history between them. (If this is lost, he doesn't want to find his way.)
It's hard to concentrate on anything, anything at all, but the feel of Nate Archibald currently beneath, against, with her. The moment seems to stretch out, encompassing them both, and Jenny doesn't want to break it. She doesn't want anything but this moment.
--
Jenny's eyes flicker open, slow and dragging against the morning light, and she drapes an arm over them tiredly. Nate is still draped over her, one arm holding her close in a loose embrace, and she has to smile a bit at the gesture. She is hungry, though-- mornings away are still mornings, and she needs food soon if she is expected to be any sort of decent company for anyone-- but she doesn't quite want to wake him. A few long moments pass, Jenny just watching him sleep, and she shifts slightly underneath his arm. She won't be able to get up without jostling him, but she doesn't know how long she can hold out with getting up and making her ritual trek to gather supplies. "Nate," she whispers, leaning against his shoulder. "Nate."
"Mm?" he hums. He doesn't open his eyes, but the lids twitch a bit, and the arm around her waist tightens a bit.
"Good morning," Jenny replies warmly, nuzzling his cheek. "Mind letting me out of this vice grip to get us some breakfast?"
Nate yawns a bit, and his eyes slit open. "Time 'sit?"
She shrugs. Her phone is probably still in her purse- her early morning estimate is six voicemails by now- and she doesn't wear a watch. The alarm clock is either off or shrouded, since its red display is mercifully missing from her line of sight. "Morning. I'd say maybe eight or nine."
"Seriously?" He makes a faintly displeased noise and sits up a bit. "I can't believe– well, actually, I can believe we slept this late, but I really don't usually."
Jenny grins. "I'm a terrible influence, really. Want to get up, then?"
"Guess we should." He doesn't sound particularly enthusiastic about the idea, but after a moment he pushes himself the rest of the way to sit up. "God. Note to self, reunions with old flames are tiring."
"Mm," she agrees, reaching up towards the ceiling with one hand, then the other, stretching. "I'll even spring for a real breakfast, if you want, not just Starbucks coffee and a danish."
"Breakfast sounds good," he agrees, "though if it's all the same to you I'd like to grab a quick shower first."
Jenny just nods. "Feel free. I'm sure I can preoccupy myself in the meantime."
"Portfolio's still on the table, and there're a couple books in the bag in the corner," he says, "but I won't be long." Nate pauses to press a brief kiss to her lips, then gets up and pads over to the bathroom.
She grins, watching him go for a moment before throwing the covers back and half-flinging herself out of bed. Early in the morning, there's a sort of untapped energy in Jenny that makes getting up easy. She flits around, making the bed and straightening up. It strikes her as somewhat comical that she's doing so in a hotel room, where presumably someone will come in and do so, and so Jenny collects her clothes from the night before, grateful for the easy skirt-and-blouse combination that translates well over to the next day. Not that she had been planning any such thing.
Nate steps out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, using another to dry his hair. The motion leaves it sticking out in spiky, improbable angles, and Nate shakes his head a bit to settle it before rooting around in the dresser for a clean set of clothes.
Jenny perches on the edge of the now-made bed, watching him again with a slight grin. She doesn't say anything, just kicks her legs lazily and waits until he's dressed, though she wonders if he'll ask her to turn around.
He doesn't– there hardly seems any point in doing so now, all things considered. Besides, he feels comfortable around Jenny. Once he's dressed he pulls a comb through his hair quickly, then crosses to her and leans down to drop a kiss to the top of her head. "Ready to go, then?"
"Mmhm," she murmurs, looking up at him with a warm, easy smile. "You don't mind if we stop so I can change first, do you?"
"Not at all," Nate answers, and offers her his hand.
Her hand wraps around his, and she slides off the bed with a chuckle, pulling him out of the hotel room, only stopping to grab her bag from the coffee table. They make it down the elevator without incident, though Jenny gets a bit of amusement out of the other people in the little elevator, and she hails a cab almost immediately. "That... is probably the first time one has come that quickly," she tells him as they slide in, and to the cabbie, "Riverside South, on 59th, please."
Nate smiles and loops an arm around her shoulders once they have settled in their seats, his fingers gently worrying at a stray lock of her hair. Slow start to the morning or not, Nate is in an extraordinarily good mood, but a quiet one, the kind where he doesn't need to talk, just feels suffused with a sense of perfect contentment.
Jenny rests her head against his shoulder, smiling warmly, and lets her eyes fall shut. The ride is slow, peaceful; the strains of the city outside seem muted today, somehow. She's never been one for public displays of affection, but Jenny can't help leaning up to brush a kiss against his cheek softly at one point as they pass the tolling bells of a church. Superstition, she blames it on.