- NATE -
there's a great unknown from you to me
& when your prayer's unheard and you don't believe
& when your prayer's unheard and you don't believe
In all the time that Nate has spent indoors, in the increasingly paranoia inducing walls of the ocean side home, he’s learned nearly every sound the house could produce. Wind coming off the oceans, the slight sounds of the neighbours, Sunjata leaving, coming back. Everything seems so quiet, so far away. A surprisingly suitable soundtrack for the wasteland of bland numbness he trekked through whenever he was alone.
Footsteps thunder through the house, a clear, loud path thundering in through the door, and around the first floor. It should worry him, it does worry him, a little bit. Not enough to move. There’s something too familiar about it. And as soon as the shout rattled up the stairs, up the halls, the familiarity is explained. Of course, it’s Clem. He came and went as he wanted, but this is the first time he’s come since...
Fuck, it’s Clem.
There is a part of him that screams to move, to sit up and square his shoulders, to shrug into one of the faces he wears so well. The rest of him balks at the idea. He shouldn’t hide what’s happened. He can’t hide what’s happened.
He can push himself up though, the movement stiff, unnatural. ”Hey kid.” A smile even tries to cross his face, though it looks more like a grimace, and it falls away into nothing when he sees the shine in the younger ascendeds eyes. That, more than anything, has him gritting his jaw, a hand stretching out towards the other. ”Don’t do that. I’m fine, c’mere.”
Footsteps thunder through the house, a clear, loud path thundering in through the door, and around the first floor. It should worry him, it does worry him, a little bit. Not enough to move. There’s something too familiar about it. And as soon as the shout rattled up the stairs, up the halls, the familiarity is explained. Of course, it’s Clem. He came and went as he wanted, but this is the first time he’s come since...
Fuck, it’s Clem.
There is a part of him that screams to move, to sit up and square his shoulders, to shrug into one of the faces he wears so well. The rest of him balks at the idea. He shouldn’t hide what’s happened. He can’t hide what’s happened.
He can push himself up though, the movement stiff, unnatural. ”Hey kid.” A smile even tries to cross his face, though it looks more like a grimace, and it falls away into nothing when he sees the shine in the younger ascendeds eyes. That, more than anything, has him gritting his jaw, a hand stretching out towards the other. ”Don’t do that. I’m fine, c’mere.”
so put your faith in the devil and the deep blue sea
put your trust in the light that you cannot see
put your trust in the light that you cannot see
