I want to bring my fear, loathing, and delusions to a pourI want to tip panic and reason into my god-fearing mouth
That there is a ghost of the same kind of worry in Isla as he feels soothes some part of Nate. It justifies the worry. "I have a lot of questions. I have the feeling letting you explain first will answer a good amount of them." It's code, offered out surprisingly diplomatically considering the tight twist Nate is in.
It would almost be better to keep standing, or to move to the desk. It would be... professional, or something. Less like he's hearing a diagnosis he's dreading second hand, again. But he manages to force a sharp grin to his face, manages to sit and fold his hands in his lap and look up at Isla. "I've been better, honestly." A hand lifts, gesturing towards her, a single brow quirking in the silent return of the pleasantry.
It would almost be better to keep standing, or to move to the desk. It would be... professional, or something. Less like he's hearing a diagnosis he's dreading second hand, again. But he manages to force a sharp grin to his face, manages to sit and fold his hands in his lap and look up at Isla. "I've been better, honestly." A hand lifts, gesturing towards her, a single brow quirking in the silent return of the pleasantry.
NATE
