Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to god When I said it I thought it was true
His words were met with a long silence, something that Nate desperately hoped was a good sign. Though it could just be a petulant act, a stonewall put up between them that he'd have to try to force his way through. And he would, for as long as she'd let him. Whether Melita really wanted him or not, she was part of his family now, and Nate wanted that to actually mean something. It seemed though, that his words had inspired something other than a stubborn huff. He got a single word response, and the quiet acceptance of his touch.
With just that, Nate was willing to claim a victory, and give Melita a moment of silence before he tried to extract more information, more detail from her, but she was a step ahead of him. Even though her eyes weren't on him, he kept his face solemn, a brow rising slightly at her description of the memory that had been traded away. He tried to make it a point to not interrupt someone opening up unless it was absolutely necessary, and this was no exception, despite the questions her brief explanation inspired. "I... sorry, I don't understand. It was a fake... real memory?" That was the only way he could make figment of a ghost make sense in his mind, though it was possible he wasn't looking at the problem from the widest lens. It was possible he had gotten a little hung up on the part that mattered the least.
Nate tries to bring it back, put his priorities back in order. "It sounds like the kind of thing that would be stubborn about leaving." He squeezed her shoulder tightly, wanting to keep Melita from slipping into whatever mire she might try to while he offered unhelpful suggestions. "Kind of like a sickness. It has to run its course before it's gone, and it doesn't bother you again."
With just that, Nate was willing to claim a victory, and give Melita a moment of silence before he tried to extract more information, more detail from her, but she was a step ahead of him. Even though her eyes weren't on him, he kept his face solemn, a brow rising slightly at her description of the memory that had been traded away. He tried to make it a point to not interrupt someone opening up unless it was absolutely necessary, and this was no exception, despite the questions her brief explanation inspired. "I... sorry, I don't understand. It was a fake... real memory?" That was the only way he could make figment of a ghost make sense in his mind, though it was possible he wasn't looking at the problem from the widest lens. It was possible he had gotten a little hung up on the part that mattered the least.
Nate tries to bring it back, put his priorities back in order. "It sounds like the kind of thing that would be stubborn about leaving." He squeezed her shoulder tightly, wanting to keep Melita from slipping into whatever mire she might try to while he offered unhelpful suggestions. "Kind of like a sickness. It has to run its course before it's gone, and it doesn't bother you again."
NATE
