As Sin

light at the end of the tunnel

She wasn't sure what she was thinking.

She told herself if she ever met anyone from that town again, she would run far away. But what did she do when she met the worst option of them all? She ran straight to him and took him back to her place. God knows why. Maybe there was something about the past that she couldn't let go of. Maybe she couldn't get herself to say no to someone who was practically begging on their knees. She thought she developed better negotiation skills than that. Or maybe it was because it was that boy.

She remembered that boy. She remembered his big eyes framed by long eyelashes that she could only achieve with mascara. She remembered telling him that his eyelashes were wasted on a boy. She remembered that he found it funny, because she remembered his laugh. 'I could be a girl, if you like,' he had said. What a silly boy. What things he said. She remembered his scraped-up hands from climbing over the school walls. She remembered how they touched places only she had touched before. She remembered his lips. How numb they felt the first time.

And of course, how could she ever forget that voice? She seemed to hear it everywhere. It shocked her the first time she heard it on the radio, and ever since then, she couldn't escape it. High or low, loud or quiet, she couldn't mistake him for anyone else. It was rare for anyone to be able to bring that larger-than-life sound to their voice like he did. He convinced her of whatever he sang about, whether it was euphoric self-destruction or a declaration of love.

She almost didn't recognize him. Even though she had seen how he changed, in her mind he was still the boy from school. She was wrong. He wasn't skinny and scrappy anymore. His hair no longer had the cut that screamed of blunt scissors in school toilets. His clothes were no longer worn out. But she would recognize that drunken sway anywhere. The money hadn't changed that sad look in his eyes. If there was anything she had learned, money made men more desperate for company.

Was he the same Nate anymore? The boy she knew had grown into a man, with all the baggage that came with. What had the years done to him? What did he see? How had people treated him? Would he treat her the same way? All she knew was that when he smiled at her, it was like nothing had ever happened. She saw the way his face lit up to see her and nothing else mattered.

Natasha was going to be mad. It was a good thing that she was out for the night and wouldn't be back until the sun was up. She couldn't imagine how she would explain bringing back a man. A man Natasha might possibly recognize. It made her sick.

She was too busy helping Nate wobble to her apartment to think about that now. It was a miracle he could walk at all. She was worried about how much he had drank, but he was conscious enough to respond to her, so she hoped that it didn't mean a visit to the emergency room this time. The elevators were working that night, which happened to be another miracle. Otherwise, they might have both passed out trying to take the stairs.

Nate looked up at the blinking light above them. Her nerves caught up to her. What was she thinking? What would he think once he saw how she lived? She became all too conscious of how different they had become. She couldn't even imagine what kind of luxury he was used to. She could barely even believe how easily he threw money at her. Did he even remember what it was like to keep needing more and more money?

"With my luck, this elevator's going to break down with us in it," he said dryly. She found it so bizarre that it coaxed a laugh out of her. In her view, he might have been the luckiest man alive. More luck than her, that was for sure. But maybe not. A lucky man wouldn't have found himself in this situation, would he?

"I don't think that's luck," she replied. "That's just how things work around here."

"Yeah? You ever get stuck taking it?" he asked. It made her remember something.