duplicitynet | inbox

[extent]

user name: nick
text | video | voice | action | etc

Comments

[extent]

( it's one thing to know something, more or less, and another to hear it confirmed so plainly. just because it isn't surprising doesn't make the answer any more welcome. the corners of nick's mouth still slants downwards and he doesn't have the energy to try and act like it doesn't.

besides. acting well when everything's not has him feeling kind of slimy these days. )

I think you probably already know the fuss isn't going anywhere.

( it's not just him, nick knows that. logan has a lot of people, clearly more than he's used to, and it's something of a relief that he can't be the only person making these arguments. surely someone's will sink in, at some point. nick draws his leg up onto the bench, arms looped around his leg, chin on his knee and eyes out on the frozen slush all over the ground that passes for winter down here.

he bites his tongue around admissions about his own habits. nick knows, in his more honest moments, why he gouges nonsense tattoos into himself, why he seeks out some of the sex he does, why a powder or a pill has always been more of a comfort than a shoulder and a friendly ear. but this isn't about him, so nick puts a welcome lid on that and tips his face back towards logan. )

Part of the trade off of having people love you is that it's going to be really fucking overwhelming any time you're hurting. It's hard to see it and not do something, when you can. You wouldn't just sit back and watch me shove a knife into my guts for kicks, would you.