all i can do is stand on the curb and say sorry about the blood in your mouth
In any other situation, NAte would be drifting, sinking through scenario after scenario, what if, what if, what if, an incessant cry to delve deeper into thoughts away from reality. Now though, his world has shrunk very much indeed, his mind barely able to accept himself and the arms encircling him. There was no room whatsoever for what if, because it had happened. And he'd never thought past that point, never gotten to the now what?
And he doesn't know what to do, how to act, and it kills him.
So he holds tight to Sunjata, tries to focus on the words, the reassurances, tries to not wonder if the other man is hurting worse than he is now. Nate shifts, keeping his head, his face carefully angled away from the other man as he moves. It takes him a moment to realize he's being asked something, another to realize he should answer. "I hear you." Comes the mumble, voice sounding like it belongs to someone else. Then, just as mechanical, just as hollow: "What'm I... what're we gonna do?"
And he doesn't know what to do, how to act, and it kills him.
So he holds tight to Sunjata, tries to focus on the words, the reassurances, tries to not wonder if the other man is hurting worse than he is now. Nate shifts, keeping his head, his face carefully angled away from the other man as he moves. It takes him a moment to realize he's being asked something, another to realize he should answer. "I hear you." Comes the mumble, voice sounding like it belongs to someone else. Then, just as mechanical, just as hollow: "What'm I... what're we gonna do?"
i wish it was mine
NATE
