The weakness we left behind
seems to be getting stronger
Oh, Kai. If only you weren't so observant, so astute, so curious. Or perhaps it's just the combination of those things which hits Nathaniel like a bullet hurled from a rocket ship. His long stride slows dramatically, so dramatically the others surely notice. And this would be embarrassing if Nathaniel wasn't already embarrassed, caught off guard by the question, the implication that Wessex knows him well enough to dislike him. The bristling, sour reminder that he is someone to be disliked.
Something in the marrow of him goes cold all at once, and Nate half turns back, something nameless in his expression. Is it surprise? Or contempt? Or — or that formless unchecked aggression which predominated his features for so many years of his youth? His eyes spark with something suddenly alive, he half opens his mouth, seems to become stuck, settles his lips into something like a snarl — or a frown.
"Is this your kid?" he asks, and the question sounds like an accusation. Kid, though it is probably too young for the boy. Nathaniel would have been happy with the nod. He would have been happy with nothing, but the insult lights him on fire. Something Nathaniel tries to forget but cannot escape: He is only really alive when he's angry.
Were he older, were he wiser, he would still be walking. But poor Nate has never been either thing. So, here he is.
Something in the marrow of him goes cold all at once, and Nate half turns back, something nameless in his expression. Is it surprise? Or contempt? Or — or that formless unchecked aggression which predominated his features for so many years of his youth? His eyes spark with something suddenly alive, he half opens his mouth, seems to become stuck, settles his lips into something like a snarl — or a frown.
"Is this your kid?" he asks, and the question sounds like an accusation. Kid, though it is probably too young for the boy. Nathaniel would have been happy with the nod. He would have been happy with nothing, but the insult lights him on fire. Something Nathaniel tries to forget but cannot escape: He is only really alive when he's angry.
Were he older, were he wiser, he would still be walking. But poor Nate has never been either thing. So, here he is.
