NATE
The tragic flaw of charming men
is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
Sams explanation for his return was met with a nod, and the beginnings of a concerned quirk of his brows when Nate noticed just how heavily the other man leaned on the door frame. He was distracted from his worry when Sam asked what he'd been making, and Nate sheepishly turned back towards the disaster he'd made of the kitchen.is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
"It was supposed to be pasta, but..." The rest of Nate's answer trailed off, and he stepped forward to help catch Sam, a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I can make you something." The offer was all but automatic, said before the rest of Sam's words had processed. Right. Sam was some kind of strange vampire, but not.
There had to be something he could do to help. Something more than just supporting Sam as he moved to the chair. "Well... you don't have to wait until tomorrow, right? I'm here, and..." Nate paused, not sure how to offer himself up. Was it even a possibility? Instead of words, he looked towards Sam and tapped his neck, hoping his meaning was clear.
