Nate
The hour was late, and he was on a borrowed bed, but Nate had a real skill at sleeping through just about any circumstance. He’d been on park benches before, and in other places most people would turn their noses up at. That’s what made it so strange when he woke up in the middle of the night, the room pitch dark, the bed cold. Nate sat up, rubbing at his face and listening, as if that might help him figure out his issue. But it was silent. Grumbling, he laid back down, and reached an arm out to curl around Sam, his hand touching nothing but blankets. He snapped up again, pawing at the bed and blankets, as if he’d somehow lost a whole man in them.
Panic gripped him, panic that Nate tried t rationalize as sensible. His friend was gone. Anyone would worry. So why did it ache behind in his chest, with the best of his heart, rather than in his guts where fear always coiled before. Why did he feel so... abandoned?
So let's face it this was never what you wanted
But I know it's fun to pretend
But I know it's fun to pretend
Now blank stares and empty threats
Are all I have, they're all I have
Are all I have, they're all I have
