NATE
The tragic flaw of charming men
is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
Nate had been glad to hear from Phoebe. He knew he'd been slacking (just a little bit) on his duties at the college, but... well, he'd heard some things, nothing good, and had decided that maybe a little slacking was warranted. The blight had been nasty, nasty stuff, and he wasn't really rushing to see what it would do in a whole person.
But, if Phoebe was reaching out to him, then that should mean she was on the mend, right? And he was eager to get back into some kind of work, not having a focus was beginning to wear on him, especially with his semi-hearted attempt at sobriety (it still counted if he was only doing it because he had better places to spend his nights now).
The college was locked down tight, Nate whistled lowly as he entered through the main doors, looking at the braces on the windows and the padding on the floor. Damn, maybe he should be a little more worried about Longnight. Phoebe proved to be a little tricky to find, sounds not carrying well in the building at the moment, but he managed, finding her among overstocked shelves. He made no attempt to hide his arrival, coming up behind her.
"You're working hard, aren't you?" He asked with a laugh on the edge of his voice, leaning against one of the shelves beside her. "You wanted to see me?"
