Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
There’s a prolonged moment where Bartholomew wants to rip the pages and run, or perhaps if he were more vulnerable he’d ask for the man to turn away. All he wants is a few minutes to come to terms with seeing a relic of his brother’s existence, because accepting he’s alive is going to take far more time than Sunjata can afford him.
It shouldn’t be so heavy a blow, to be told he has to wait. That Nate simply isn’t here. The hope has had scant few seconds to even bloom, and yet he can feel the ache spread through his chest all the same. Funny how healed scars can so readily be ripped open into tender wounds.
Fuck, and apparently Scarface is the Governor? Good fucking job Nate! Bart knew he was capable of great things, but nepotism certainly hadn’t been on the list. And it better have made its way onto it, because if his twin hasn’t taken advantage then Bartholomew will be sorely disappointed. Still, the offer makes his insides squirm, distrust still poisoning his insides. But fuck, what other choice does he even have? He doesn’t even know which way lies town, he has no money - if their currency is even the same - and nobody else is going to be inclined to take in an asshole like him. Especially soaked as he is as the cherry on top.
To the in-laws house it is.
"Ain’t got nowhere else to go," he admits, a little reluctantly. Turning a sharp eye the man’s way, he finally sticks his hand out. "Only if ya call me Bartholomew. No shortcuts. Now tell me yours so I know who my brother got shackled to." And so he can make the man start groveling, because this certainly wasn’t the best first impression - and for once, it doesn’t matter that Bart was also on asshole, because he has the high ground as Nate’s twin.
It shouldn’t be so heavy a blow, to be told he has to wait. That Nate simply isn’t here. The hope has had scant few seconds to even bloom, and yet he can feel the ache spread through his chest all the same. Funny how healed scars can so readily be ripped open into tender wounds.
Fuck, and apparently Scarface is the Governor? Good fucking job Nate! Bart knew he was capable of great things, but nepotism certainly hadn’t been on the list. And it better have made its way onto it, because if his twin hasn’t taken advantage then Bartholomew will be sorely disappointed. Still, the offer makes his insides squirm, distrust still poisoning his insides. But fuck, what other choice does he even have? He doesn’t even know which way lies town, he has no money - if their currency is even the same - and nobody else is going to be inclined to take in an asshole like him. Especially soaked as he is as the cherry on top.
To the in-laws house it is.
"Ain’t got nowhere else to go," he admits, a little reluctantly. Turning a sharp eye the man’s way, he finally sticks his hand out. "Only if ya call me Bartholomew. No shortcuts. Now tell me yours so I know who my brother got shackled to." And so he can make the man start groveling, because this certainly wasn’t the best first impression - and for once, it doesn’t matter that Bart was also on asshole, because he has the high ground as Nate’s twin.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear
let weakness disappear
BARTHOLOMEW
