NATE
"It is a bit of a surprise." Nate admits with a shrug, his grin only growing as hers falters. "You're not really his usual type, but hey, any port in a storm, right?" Laughing to himself, he rolls his shoulders back and tips his chin up, a brow lifting in her direction. "Well I can only assume you've been around more than she has been the last little while." He agrees about Phoebe, trying and failing to keep his personal distaste for the former Madame out of his tone.
Nate only just barely keeps from rolling his eyes at the dramatic explanation. "Long way to go for some healing." He points out, before she cuts right to the quick of his irritation. "I never implied anything about a vendetta." He sneers, though he's unable to get the idea out of his head now that it's been aired, paranoia and distrust souring his mood even further.
It's clear by the way he leans in, the way his face grows darker a clear indication that her tone is wearing on the little patience he has. "That was an emergency situation. I don't want people sleeping on my floor when there's other places to go." A request that he thinks is rational, really, though she has to push that much more. "Actually," Nate lifts a red-stained finger towards her face, "It's not empty anymore. We've been busy since I got back." Not that the specifics were any of her business.
Both brows lift in sullen amusement, a thin grin spreading over his face. "Oh you talked about me? Had some nice little chats between work?" His voice is low, sneering, a crackling hand appearing and grabbing the edge of the door like he's considering slamming it shut. "And you helped him with the clinic. Regular saint you are, huh?"
Licking his lips, Nate leans back again, straightening to his full height and looking down at Maeve. "It did fare well. A little dirty, from housing refugees, but I guess thats what happens when other people don't prep, isn't it? I mean, we all knew what was coming, didn't we?"
Nate only just barely keeps from rolling his eyes at the dramatic explanation. "Long way to go for some healing." He points out, before she cuts right to the quick of his irritation. "I never implied anything about a vendetta." He sneers, though he's unable to get the idea out of his head now that it's been aired, paranoia and distrust souring his mood even further.
It's clear by the way he leans in, the way his face grows darker a clear indication that her tone is wearing on the little patience he has. "That was an emergency situation. I don't want people sleeping on my floor when there's other places to go." A request that he thinks is rational, really, though she has to push that much more. "Actually," Nate lifts a red-stained finger towards her face, "It's not empty anymore. We've been busy since I got back." Not that the specifics were any of her business.
Both brows lift in sullen amusement, a thin grin spreading over his face. "Oh you talked about me? Had some nice little chats between work?" His voice is low, sneering, a crackling hand appearing and grabbing the edge of the door like he's considering slamming it shut. "And you helped him with the clinic. Regular saint you are, huh?"
Licking his lips, Nate leans back again, straightening to his full height and looking down at Maeve. "It did fare well. A little dirty, from housing refugees, but I guess thats what happens when other people don't prep, isn't it? I mean, we all knew what was coming, didn't we?"
Sleepin', you're on your tippy toes
Creepin' around like no one knows
Creepin' around like no one knows
