NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
no one remembers
Already, this feels like one of those conversations, the kind that rubs against the grain until he’s frazzled and on edge, but it’s the least Nate feels he can do. He can listen, he can compartmentalize, he can offer a smoke and a shoulder and be there.
“Late is fine.” Nate snorts, looking away from her and pulling his own smoke away from his lips, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Yea, I know the feeling.” It’s a joke that doesn’t come out like one, too heavy and serious, too bitter. Maybe he’d be handling this better if he could sleep, if he could blackout and be numb until things had settled, but... he’s past that now. Should be past missing it, and he is, until things don’t stop happening.
The smoke is returned between his lips, Nate pulling on it until it glows bright enough to throw jagged shadows onto his face, making him seem older, angrier, for just a moment. He leans back again, opening a drawer on the far side of the desk and finding an ashtray that he leaves at his side, his focus returning to Aurelia.
He can’t help the flicker of irritation that crosses his face as Safrin’s name clouds the air. It’s the issue with being open with someone, he can’t let only one thing loose, can’t bite back only bits and pieces. But they’re not actually talking about the jealous goddess, and it smoothed out the crease between his brows, has Nate settling again, his head cocking to the side. “Did it have anything helpful to say?” He asks wryly, remembering his own encounter with something other at a shrine.
“Late is fine.” Nate snorts, looking away from her and pulling his own smoke away from his lips, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Yea, I know the feeling.” It’s a joke that doesn’t come out like one, too heavy and serious, too bitter. Maybe he’d be handling this better if he could sleep, if he could blackout and be numb until things had settled, but... he’s past that now. Should be past missing it, and he is, until things don’t stop happening.
The smoke is returned between his lips, Nate pulling on it until it glows bright enough to throw jagged shadows onto his face, making him seem older, angrier, for just a moment. He leans back again, opening a drawer on the far side of the desk and finding an ashtray that he leaves at his side, his focus returning to Aurelia.
He can’t help the flicker of irritation that crosses his face as Safrin’s name clouds the air. It’s the issue with being open with someone, he can’t let only one thing loose, can’t bite back only bits and pieces. But they’re not actually talking about the jealous goddess, and it smoothed out the crease between his brows, has Nate settling again, his head cocking to the side. “Did it have anything helpful to say?” He asks wryly, remembering his own encounter with something other at a shrine.
when you're bad
no one forgets
no one forgets
