[ Nate knows the habit of getting absorbed in writing something down, communicating your idea and putting it to paper, so he spends the following seconds examining his glass' contents and wondering if it would taste better with that slightly bitter, slightly sweet hint of grapefruit.
What the fuck does he know? He's not a scientist, just a citrus enthusiast. ]
Yeah, lucky guess.
[ He echoes in agreement, brow still wrinkled in thought, when he suddenly freezes. For God's sake, Nathan, panicked grasping, Blackjack. The casino, his open shirt. It slots together like the teeth of well-oiled gears. ]
no subject
What the fuck does he know? He's not a scientist, just a citrus enthusiast. ]
Yeah, lucky guess.
[ He echoes in agreement, brow still wrinkled in thought, when he suddenly freezes. For God's sake, Nathan, panicked grasping, Blackjack. The casino, his open shirt. It slots together like the teeth of well-oiled gears. ]
Did my chest just glow?