BART
Bart’s shoulders climb towards his ears the second he hears footsteps, but he grits his teeth and keeps at it, hoping it’s just some half-insane jogger who will pass by him without poking their nose into his business. Of course, this is the Grounds, and the runner is likely to be an Ascended - but why do the odds always have to be against his favor? Because soon enough the steps are slowing, and he throws a punch wrong out of sheer distaste for being watched, so of course whoever it is has to comment.
Bart spins around with a scowl, doe eyes dark and squinted against the sweat dripping off his brow. Only to have a moment of “ah fuck, he’s hot” the second he lays eyes on the nosey newcomer. At least the exertion has already made his cheeks pink, so the fluster doesn’t show as easily. “You make a habit ‘a wanderin’ round correctin’ strangers on their form? You must be a saint,” he mutters, accent thick with embarrassment and irritation and shoulders high like a pissed off kitten’s hackles. Bart might be tall, but he’s not nearly as built as Nate, and is both surprised by and pouty at the fact the other man is somehow taller. Arms crossing self-consciously over his chest - though he juts his chin challengingly to make it seem like it was intentional - Bart eyes the man suspiciously. “Unless you’re gonna do more’n make comments?” Because he’s too proud to ask for help outright.
Bart spins around with a scowl, doe eyes dark and squinted against the sweat dripping off his brow. Only to have a moment of “ah fuck, he’s hot” the second he lays eyes on the nosey newcomer. At least the exertion has already made his cheeks pink, so the fluster doesn’t show as easily. “You make a habit ‘a wanderin’ round correctin’ strangers on their form? You must be a saint,” he mutters, accent thick with embarrassment and irritation and shoulders high like a pissed off kitten’s hackles. Bart might be tall, but he’s not nearly as built as Nate, and is both surprised by and pouty at the fact the other man is somehow taller. Arms crossing self-consciously over his chest - though he juts his chin challengingly to make it seem like it was intentional - Bart eyes the man suspiciously. “Unless you’re gonna do more’n make comments?” Because he’s too proud to ask for help outright.
Even if I do a little just to get me through the night
Always getting me in trouble, smoking like I wanna die
Always getting me in trouble, smoking like I wanna die
