NATE
Despite his complaining, Nate all but preens under the professional awe in Isla’s voice, the demi-god willing to do a lot more to keep being incredible. He rises to each test with gusto, offering as many of his own details as he can think to supply. Whatever might help her observations. All good things come to an end though, Isla’s murmur signalling theirs, but not before the chance of anything else is offered.
There’s a silent moment of consideration, Nate humming while he thinks. “Do you think I could,” his hand rises fingers just barely twitching, “touch it?” Without sight, it was the next best thing. A way to prove to himself, ridiculously, that it was real, as if the scars and haircut weren’t enough.
There’s a silent moment of consideration, Nate humming while he thinks. “Do you think I could,” his hand rises fingers just barely twitching, “touch it?” Without sight, it was the next best thing. A way to prove to himself, ridiculously, that it was real, as if the scars and haircut weren’t enough.
So unscrew my head and rinse it out
Polish my thoughts, turn into doubts
Polish my thoughts, turn into doubts
