[Yay dragon piss. Nate takes the bottle and knocks back a hearty swig immediately. It burns its way down his throat like maybe it really is napalm-laced pissed from a beast that breathes fire. Good.]
What makes you think there's anything to wait for? Maybe I don't want to talk about how I'm feeling ever.
[Because it hurts too much. Because 'talking' would just be 'screaming incoherently.' Pick one.]
no subject
What makes you think there's anything to wait for? Maybe I don't want to talk about how I'm feeling ever.
[Because it hurts too much. Because 'talking' would just be 'screaming incoherently.' Pick one.]