[ Nathan sighs. Loud, frustrated, and hands find his hips as he stares down at his feet. The tone and set of his body language changes by degrees, then all at once.
Truth is, the answer's easy. For him, anyway. 'Cause I fucking hate texting. 'Cause I wanted to talk to you in person. 'Cause I thought you could use a friend, 'cause I thought you were goddamn scared of me before this, 'cause I give a fucking shit about what you think. That's what you're supposed to do, when someone tells you they're not okay. You— make sure they are.
no subject
Truth is, the answer's easy. For him, anyway. 'Cause I fucking hate texting. 'Cause I wanted to talk to you in person. 'Cause I thought you could use a friend, 'cause I thought you were goddamn scared of me before this, 'cause I give a fucking shit about what you think. That's what you're supposed to do, when someone tells you they're not okay. You— make sure they are.
He feels like a damn idiot.
Grits his teeth. Stays silent.
Give him a fucking minute, would you? ]