engage with the pain as a motive, today of all days, see
”The good one, obviously.” Perhaps that’s not a fair answer, but it’s all Nate can manage until he's flopped and comfortable in the bed, wrapped halfway around a giggling Neron. ”Thank the one that made you you, not him.”
Letting his eyes slip closed makes this feel more authentic, more like a real nap. ”No, no.” Brows crash towards each other like out of control train cars, twisting the crevasse of scar tissue crossing his face. Words come on the heels of the accident, weakly defensive, but defensive nonetheless. ”Never dreamed. Was just... peace, and darkness.” Sleeping until noon is something else he can relate to, his hand lazily moving up along Nerons side to squeeze his shoulder, pat his cheek. Easier than wasting words, when he needs them so desperately lately. ”What kind of lawyer.”
Letting his eyes slip closed makes this feel more authentic, more like a real nap. ”No, no.” Brows crash towards each other like out of control train cars, twisting the crevasse of scar tissue crossing his face. Words come on the heels of the accident, weakly defensive, but defensive nonetheless. ”Never dreamed. Was just... peace, and darkness.” Sleeping until noon is something else he can relate to, his hand lazily moving up along Nerons side to squeeze his shoulder, pat his cheek. Easier than wasting words, when he needs them so desperately lately. ”What kind of lawyer.”
how the most dangerous thing is to love
how you will heal and you'll rise above
NATE
