ONCE BURNED was made by MEL. Copying, altering, or stealing any of the site's content is prohibited. All of ONCE BURNED's characters are the original work of their owners and may not be replicated or stolen. All images and graphics belong to their rightful owners and ONCE BURNED does not claim to own any of them.
Multiple sets of eyes were on her now, and while Teddy wasn't adept at communicating with animals, she was pretty sure everything was mirrored in Natalie's eyes. She get the strange urge to reach out to any of them, but her arms remained folded.
"In part. I moved here because his name and legacy was - is - everywhere in London. I went to work every day in a business with his name on it. It's our name, but he made it. It'll always be his." And that had harboured an awful nagging every day, "But everything noble and stoic about wanting to change the country is still a real reason, too."
Folded arms might have refused to reach out, but it didn't stop either of Natalie's dogs from fighting for her attention, and that same magnetic pull always brought the trainer closer. She shifted Oz's weight into one arm, her other stretching outward as she curled her fingers around the back of Teddy's neck, offering a gentle squeeze. "Of course. There can always be multiple reasons to a choice. There usually are." So to hear that her father's legacy was - in part - why she left, wasn't too surprising to hear, though Natalie had to wonder if it had to do with her loss of him as well.
"What was he like?" Finally giving into her dog's request, she inched a little closer, enough where Oz could reach out and lick one of Teddy's folded arms.
A hand reached for her and she wasn't surprised for it. Tension filtered out of her neck by way of a single squeeze. At least there was a better understanding for her own reason for leaving London. She offered a sympathetic smile for the affection in the moment.
But no one had ever asked her about him. His importance to the lawyer had been obvious to a lot of people, but no one ever thought to delve into it. She dropped her eyes to the little dog in her arm, and slowly she unfurled her arms to run her fingernails across the top of Oz's head.
"He was everything." She responded finally. If ever a word suited him, that was it. "He was strong and over protective and a huge civil rights advocate. He was nothing but supportive in everything I've ever done, and he was so happy when I followed him into law. He never made it easier to join his practice; everything I ever achieved was on my own merit with his guidance. I learned so much and I know I'm better for having him in my life."
And then she laughed, like she could brush off the weight of someone so important. "He did threaten to sue St. Bethany for trying to take me away." She added then, and her smile grew; "Lawyer parent."
Her father's importance was obvious, and so it only seemed natural to ask about him. She wanted to know all she could about the lawyer; what - and who - was important, and why. By no means was Natalie trying to force a conversation, but she seemed willing to talk about him, especially once she started. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards at the explanation of Teddy's father being everything.
The dog in her arm was happy to gain the attention of an affectionate hand, like Oz was sure it made a paramount difference.
A short laugh escaped Natalie when the detail she offered perfectly suited the explanation. Protective and strong. "It seems like he must have loved you very much." She knew she couldn't speak from personal knowledge, but the minor tactics she used to describe how she was raised made it obvious. Her thumb brushed along the back of Teddy's neck with slow, rhythmic motions.
Sometimes it was good to just talk about difficult things on any level. Of everyone, Natalie seemed the most willing to genuinely listen to what she had to say. It felt like she wanted to know more, and so Teddy was all too happy to oblige. There was no strain in talking about her family.
"I'm sure they both did." Teddy reassured her, the agreement easy to give because she had never believed anything less of either of her parents. "I was just always closer with him than my mother. We were very similar." That much just have been obvious by now.
It had taken a moment before realization shifted Natalie's expression. She couldn't help the way it flickered in her eyes as she took in a slow breath, like it could fix the way she knew her voice would sound when she did finally speak. "Both?" She couldn't stop the surprise in her tone, how it carried concern like she couldn't believe the implication. Teddy was still young, at least in the grand scheme of things. The idea of having already lost both parents seemed devastating.
A slight slip in the conversation felt far too casual for Teddy. She had gone through these motions before - on the surface, mostly - but the steps all felt so similar. But she glanced up to catch her eyes and watched the way surprise filtered to something far more genuine. Like her heart could break from the news.
"Oh. Yes." She said through her own realisation, and she quickly felt the need to excuse it; "Years ago, though. I don't think he ever moved past it."
She tore her eyes away, looking at a smaller set for an altered kind for comfort. "That's what makes love so terrifying." Teddy mused aloud, throwing the thought away as if it could sink into silence.
Heartbreak was shown genuinely; like she could really feel the loss of two people she had never known. But she knew the product of the James family, and that was enough to draw genuine sympathy out of the trainer. It was probably for the best that she lost those bright eyes; they carried a different sort of intensity, and her own shifted down to the same subject.
It was as romantic as it was tragic. To love someone and not be able to find true resolution without them. Her lips pressed together as she took another long breath through her nose. "But worth it, don't you think?"
It was a thought Teddy had never really reached before. Perhaps it was a mix of the nature of the conversation and the person she was speaking to. She rarely hither eyes from someone deserving, but the moment felt right. It was better not to look.
Because she knew she would haul some kind of sympathetic response from Natalie. What it was, she didn't know. But what She got was something she didn't know how to combat. She was so optimistic. Teddy looked at her then, letting her hands fall. She took silence and studied her expression for some kind of guidance.
"If it's right." Teddy agreed finally. At the end of it all, she had to give onto That optimism a little bit.
Settling her attention on her dog was easier than she imagined; as much as she wished to keep her eyes on the lawyer, she was so overwhelming. Though that was hardly a bad thing. Still, she kept her hand firmly planted on Teddy's neck, refusing to give up that connection just yet.
To call it optimism or not, she was sure she'd much rather find love at the risk of its loss than living never having found it. And it seemed she was agreed with, and for that, it pulled a small smile out of the trainer. She was glad the idea didn't sound too ridiculous.
"Absolutely." Only then did she let her gaze slowly filter back up to the lawyer.
Though she couldn't catch her eyes, Teddy knew somehow that Natalie would be happy to settle somewhere in agreement. It was a nice change of pace, even if she had no issue talking about the loss of her family. It was one thing to discuss it, and another to delve into the emotional baggage attached. How she threatened to dig out the latter without even trying was astounding. She might have thought in it more if she had a chance.
But she didn't, because she got her eyes instead.
Eye contact was everything to her. To have it had always given a kind of power most people had no idea how to handle or act on. Perfect sight let the slightest things slip through the most perfect guards; the most stonewalled expressions. But Natalie was nothing if not an open book, especially for the lawyer who built her entire life around reading people. She dragged a slow breath inward as she felt the threat of falling victim to the kindness that radiated from the way she looked at her. She looked at her mouth for a brief second before she looked back up again, hardly able to control the longing that poured from her own expression.
There was an entire existence between them in the form of a small animal. There was no forgetting that in this moment.
"Did you-" Teddy tried, faltering with a slight stumble in her sentence, "Did you want to know anything else?"
Catching a set of eyes that she knew could see every detail was arguably dangerous, but an acute gaze didn't scare her away. How could it, when it was part of what made her so special? And even if she lost them for a moment, they were quick to return back to her. The urge to pull her in was only halted by the life in her arm, but it brought another gentle squeeze out of her hand to Teddy's neck before it filtered up into her hair.
Natalie was almost settled with the small amount of silence between them, but it was broken with a sentence that within itself was a little broken, compared to the usual way Teddy held herself. It was impossible not to notice. And with it, came every possible question she could think to ask in a moment where it was so available.
"Of course I do." Natalie replied easily in a lighter tone. "But there isn't a rush, is there?" At least, Natalie had every intention of staying near the lawyer for as long as she would have her. She didn't want to force a conversation past the natural bounds in which it was created.
An open ended question was a dangerous move to pull, and Teddy knew that. It was something overtly avoided in any kind of question, at least when it came to her profession. But it all depended on who she was dealing with on a personal level; when it came to this woman, she couldn't fathom a thing Natalie could say that she didn't feel able to answer. In the end, she didn't ask a single thing. Nothing that equated to what was offered, anyway. She genuinely looked surprised by it.
"I suppose not." It wasn't as if she had to give her life story away then and there. Small things she dropped here and there were enough to at least prove to her that she was capable of opening up to some degree.
"For what it's worth, I have a brother. He's quite a bit younger than me, and he lives in London at St. Bethany. He likes his life there, so he stayed. I talk to him almost every day." She continued anyway, a hand finally rising to rest against her arm lightly. Anything to make a little contact in this haze of overwhelming emotional discourse; "That's the whole family."
There wasn't a need to know every detail about the lawyer all in one sitting, but if an opportunity came up, Natalie had no qualms with asking for more information. And already, she found herself curious for more as Teddy still chose to go a little further. She'd take anything she was given happily, by means of conversation or the little bit of contact she was granted. It was all worth cherishing.
"What's his name?" The thought of siblings hadn't even occurred to her until it was brought up, Natalie being an only child herself. It was the perfect example of waiting to ask until something prompted her - the trainer would have never considered asking such a thing in the first place.
Mentioning her brother could never be a harsh topic for Teddy. Sure, she felt a little bitter about the distance; perhaps more because she put it in place. But he had been kind about her decision, and understanding. Far better than she probably would have been had the tables been turned.
"Alexander." She affirmed, the smile on her face uncontrollable for once; "Just like my father. First son of the family but never born for the legacy. He's too much of a free spirit."
He was too nice. Too driven by everything that wasn't akin to what she drove her life towards. "That was another great thing about my father. He didn't care that his first born child was a girl, or that she was gay, or that she was the one who wanted to follow him through fire into an industry ruled by men taking the place of their fathers. I'm non-traditional," She paused, the smile on her face forcing a small crinkle to her nose; "And he loved that."
