- NATE -
Why you don't got any questions?
How you know that this is real?
How you know that this is real?
“The Grounds is probably safest right now.” Gods only knew if their plan would be successful, if his words would prove to simply be worry and overactive paranoia after all. “Theres no reason you have to stay there, if it doesn’t work out.” Why not be optimistic? Why not at least try, why not offer Kiada some brightness?
The letter slips to the ground and Nate bends after it, a single brow lifted at the handwriting. “I wasn’t expecting a letter.” He mumbles, working his thumb under the seal of the envelope and cracking it open. There’s more paper stuffed into it than he expects, the folds precise and delicate, making it seems like a much shorter letter.
Silence stretches out while Nate reads through it once, then begins to drag as he reads through it a second time. His brows furrow almost immediately, but any other reaction is kept locked behind his teeth until it grows too big for his jaw, a growl leaving him as he finally rips his focus away, halfway through the third read. Trembling spreads through his body, rage clouding his eyes as he turns, not seeming to notice or care about Kiada’s presence as he turns towards the bar, grabs the closest bottle.
He looks at it, considering the label, then digs out two dusty glasses from underneath the counter. “Did you drink much, before?” Nate still doesn’t look up at Kiada, too focused on the way his shaking hands slop liquor over the wooden counter.
The letter slips to the ground and Nate bends after it, a single brow lifted at the handwriting. “I wasn’t expecting a letter.” He mumbles, working his thumb under the seal of the envelope and cracking it open. There’s more paper stuffed into it than he expects, the folds precise and delicate, making it seems like a much shorter letter.
Silence stretches out while Nate reads through it once, then begins to drag as he reads through it a second time. His brows furrow almost immediately, but any other reaction is kept locked behind his teeth until it grows too big for his jaw, a growl leaving him as he finally rips his focus away, halfway through the third read. Trembling spreads through his body, rage clouding his eyes as he turns, not seeming to notice or care about Kiada’s presence as he turns towards the bar, grabs the closest bottle.
He looks at it, considering the label, then digs out two dusty glasses from underneath the counter. “Did you drink much, before?” Nate still doesn’t look up at Kiada, too focused on the way his shaking hands slop liquor over the wooden counter.
I am feeling such oppression
You can't tell me how to feel
You can't tell me how to feel
