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
He doesn't need any sort of consolation. Bart knows how much they'd both meant to each other, knows realistically that if the tables had been turned Nate would've missed him just as much. But after over a decade without his twin, things get muddied. Half-forgotten in the wake of their father's vitriol, which has only sharpened after Nate had died. Bart merely grunts to affirm he'd heard the man, but offers nothing farther. Any words he could come up with would only sound choked, and reveal the lump in his throat that is otherwise hidden.
"Weird lookin' dog. I wouldn't want mine to have wings, that's just askin' for 'em to counter-surf." Though it's spoken rather fondly past the sharpness of his grin. Bart loves animals, but they simply weren't a possibility in his and Nate's home life. He merely stares back at her as she follows him, content to drink his visual fill - maybe just to confirm she isn't a weird visual hallucination.
Sharp eyes descend upon the hands that fiddle with the wedding ring, tucking the information away. It's more important than regional names and Gods in his opinion. "Where we grew up, bein' with a man was a death sentence. In more ways'n one." It's hard-edged, defensive in the sense that he's scared it might be the same here. Though his body language is loose and open, splayed open, there's a catlike sharpness to his gaze that undermines it. "But 'm glad he was able to be himself here. Even if it's with you." Bart grins at the man, happily poking the metaphorical bear. He has brother-in-law immunity now after all.
"Weird lookin' dog. I wouldn't want mine to have wings, that's just askin' for 'em to counter-surf." Though it's spoken rather fondly past the sharpness of his grin. Bart loves animals, but they simply weren't a possibility in his and Nate's home life. He merely stares back at her as she follows him, content to drink his visual fill - maybe just to confirm she isn't a weird visual hallucination.
Sharp eyes descend upon the hands that fiddle with the wedding ring, tucking the information away. It's more important than regional names and Gods in his opinion. "Where we grew up, bein' with a man was a death sentence. In more ways'n one." It's hard-edged, defensive in the sense that he's scared it might be the same here. Though his body language is loose and open, splayed open, there's a catlike sharpness to his gaze that undermines it. "But 'm glad he was able to be himself here. Even if it's with you." Bart grins at the man, happily poking the metaphorical bear. He has brother-in-law immunity now after all.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear
let weakness disappear
BARTHOLOMEW
