you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling
The pear is laid bare, a distant smile spread across Nate’s face as he lifts the pear out of Haai’s reach, waiting until she sits politely to start slicing it into thin portions. One for the gryphon, one for himself (and once, Pemota, who nearly spat the slice back out on him in protest), and one silently deposited in Sunjata’s bowl, over and over. ”I know you won’t eat if I don’t remind you.” At least not until he was weak, until he was desperate. That shouldn’t be such casual knowledge, in the same way they shouldn’t be in this awkward, distant dance.
He should know how to fix this. He should know how to talk like normal again, how to be close again, but he doesn’t. They’ve gone light years past anything Nate ever thought he could prepare for in a relationship, and now he’s lost. They’re lost. It should be a comfort, of some kind, that Nate still thinks in terms of ‘us’, of ‘they’.
”Up late last night?” He asks, instead of the silent questions he wants to. The silent questions that he could, if he weren’t quite so stubborn. ”What were you doing?”
He should know how to fix this. He should know how to talk like normal again, how to be close again, but he doesn’t. They’ve gone light years past anything Nate ever thought he could prepare for in a relationship, and now he’s lost. They’re lost. It should be a comfort, of some kind, that Nate still thinks in terms of ‘us’, of ‘they’.
”Up late last night?” He asks, instead of the silent questions he wants to. The silent questions that he could, if he weren’t quite so stubborn. ”What were you doing?”
& you're trembling and he reaches over
and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist
NATE
