[ Nathan shrugs. Yeah, probably could have mentioned it earlier. Most people would have.
His eyes track Ian when he moves. Just— for no other reason other than because that nausea's back, and having something to focus on helps him out. He keeps waiting for that prickle at the back of his own neck, something that tells him what he's looking at when that fork changes into a stupid spoon.
But it's nothing. Feels absolutely nothing, and Nathan says back, expressionless, ]
Yeah, sucks for you.
[ Not like Nathan's gonna fucking do anything with whatever the fuck this is. He does not give a fuck about winning karate championships.
He does care a little about that cube Ian was fiddling with. Now that one question's answered, Nathan pivots towards his next, arms folding loosely over his chest. Nods in the table's direction. ]
no subject
His eyes track Ian when he moves. Just— for no other reason other than because that nausea's back, and having something to focus on helps him out. He keeps waiting for that prickle at the back of his own neck, something that tells him what he's looking at when that fork changes into a stupid spoon.
But it's nothing. Feels absolutely nothing, and Nathan says back, expressionless, ]
Yeah, sucks for you.
[ Not like Nathan's gonna fucking do anything with whatever the fuck this is. He does not give a fuck about winning karate championships.
He does care a little about that cube Ian was fiddling with. Now that one question's answered, Nathan pivots towards his next, arms folding loosely over his chest. Nods in the table's direction. ]
What the hell are you working on?