- NATE -
We'll get married or buried
We'll have a baby or kill someone
We'll have a baby or kill someone
Misunderstanding on misunderstanding. What a perfect recipe for a conversation.
The girl lowers herself to his level, squints at him, and very suddenly Nate feels lacking, feels unprepared, though he doesn't know what for. "Intrude on... you, I suppose." Though that sounds strange, doesn't it, and he all but trips to explain himself. "I saw, I thought I saw a... a beast, or monster, and I... I can't let anything bad happen here. Not... Not before the wedding." Safrin's hand was one he'd been warned against reaching for, but for his fiance, Nate would reach into a fire. If he could just build up some kind of goodwill, perhaps, perhaps, he could be spared from some horrible fate, from some attempt to tear them apart.
Slowly, almost too slowly, the shape in front of him begins to settle into something else, someone else, someone who is decidedly not Safrin. Nate can't quite tell if he's angry, at being deceived, or if he's panicked, wondering how Phoebe had arrived before him so quickly. "Where did you come from? What happened to...?"
It was too much for Nate. Without any class or preamble, he flopped, slipping slowly down the stairs and out of sight.
Done
The girl lowers herself to his level, squints at him, and very suddenly Nate feels lacking, feels unprepared, though he doesn't know what for. "Intrude on... you, I suppose." Though that sounds strange, doesn't it, and he all but trips to explain himself. "I saw, I thought I saw a... a beast, or monster, and I... I can't let anything bad happen here. Not... Not before the wedding." Safrin's hand was one he'd been warned against reaching for, but for his fiance, Nate would reach into a fire. If he could just build up some kind of goodwill, perhaps, perhaps, he could be spared from some horrible fate, from some attempt to tear them apart.
Slowly, almost too slowly, the shape in front of him begins to settle into something else, someone else, someone who is decidedly not Safrin. Nate can't quite tell if he's angry, at being deceived, or if he's panicked, wondering how Phoebe had arrived before him so quickly. "Where did you come from? What happened to...?"
It was too much for Nate. Without any class or preamble, he flopped, slipping slowly down the stairs and out of sight.
Done
Well, I can't decide what to try
Commitment or a gun
Commitment or a gun
