- NATE -
I don’t want a world
Without pain or loss
Without pain or loss
It really doesn't feel to Nate like he's explaining himself properly. It feels like he's doing nothing but disappointing the other man, some key part not quite lining up. Before this, they had fit together so comfortably, but now, there's a part of Nate that feels off balance. He wonders if maybe, it's just him, if it's all in his head, but that's a much worse thought than both of them being just a little affected. If he doesn't try though, that discomfort never goes away.
He squeezes Sunjata's offered hand tightly, takes a short breath, and tries.
"I'm not trying to..." Nate lets out a soft sigh, then shifts, trying to get a little closer without disturbing Haai too much from his side. "If you want to walk with me, or spend the day with me, I'm not saying no. I'd... I'd really like it, actually." Here's where the but came in though, where he had to pause to make sure he didn't stumble over his next few words. "I can... take care of myself. I'm not going to be a burden, and I'm not going to ask you to change what you're doing for me." There's another moment of pause, where Nate just squeezes Sunjata's hand hard, when he really wants to pull away completely. He puts the urge into words, into a whisper though, one last niggling discomfort. "You're doing too much already."
Apparently, Nate was going to get no reprieve though, no chance to withdraw and lick at irritated scrapes. It was exhausting, bouncing back and forth from a tangled mess of numbness and a bright, sharp anger, but he had no idea how to stop himself. Again, there's a flicker of something in his single uncovered eye, a twitch in his brow before he pulls his hands back to take the bandage off. It's a question easier answered by showing. After all, just saying not good leaves a lot up in the air.
The edges of the wound are silvery, pulled tight by skin and scars trying to bridge the gash, and failing, but it's the only part that looks dry, really, the only part that looks likes it's healing. At the deepest points of the wound, where there had been the stark white of bone, there's now a sticky looking growth, almost scab like, but not quite. Worst of all is the eye. The pupil that had once been a bright blue is dulled, flooded with fluid, and healed back together lopsided, the two halves not quite meeting nicely. It still moves, when Nate's gaze finally lifts to meet steel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it might pop.
He squeezes Sunjata's offered hand tightly, takes a short breath, and tries.
"I'm not trying to..." Nate lets out a soft sigh, then shifts, trying to get a little closer without disturbing Haai too much from his side. "If you want to walk with me, or spend the day with me, I'm not saying no. I'd... I'd really like it, actually." Here's where the but came in though, where he had to pause to make sure he didn't stumble over his next few words. "I can... take care of myself. I'm not going to be a burden, and I'm not going to ask you to change what you're doing for me." There's another moment of pause, where Nate just squeezes Sunjata's hand hard, when he really wants to pull away completely. He puts the urge into words, into a whisper though, one last niggling discomfort. "You're doing too much already."
Apparently, Nate was going to get no reprieve though, no chance to withdraw and lick at irritated scrapes. It was exhausting, bouncing back and forth from a tangled mess of numbness and a bright, sharp anger, but he had no idea how to stop himself. Again, there's a flicker of something in his single uncovered eye, a twitch in his brow before he pulls his hands back to take the bandage off. It's a question easier answered by showing. After all, just saying not good leaves a lot up in the air.
The edges of the wound are silvery, pulled tight by skin and scars trying to bridge the gash, and failing, but it's the only part that looks dry, really, the only part that looks likes it's healing. At the deepest points of the wound, where there had been the stark white of bone, there's now a sticky looking growth, almost scab like, but not quite. Worst of all is the eye. The pupil that had once been a bright blue is dulled, flooded with fluid, and healed back together lopsided, the two halves not quite meeting nicely. It still moves, when Nate's gaze finally lifts to meet steel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it might pop.
I just want them
To mean something
To mean something
