Nathaniel Graison (
nathaniel_kitten) wrote2009-06-20 10:20 am
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Nathaniel enters the bedroom with a towel in hand as he carefully dries his hair. He ignores Micah's presence for the moment, fetching a pair of jogging shorts from a drawer and slipping them on before picking up a comb and bottle of leave-in conditioner.
He sits on the bed, hair swept over his shoulder, and opens the bottle, squeezing some into his palm and working it his damp hair. Staring at the floor, he begins the arduous task of combing out his hair and braiding it back for bed.
He sits on the bed, hair swept over his shoulder, and opens the bottle, squeezing some into his palm and working it his damp hair. Staring at the floor, he begins the arduous task of combing out his hair and braiding it back for bed.
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Translation: what am I doing wrong?
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"I'm content."
The real question was, was he happy? And he didn't know if he wanted to answer that because he knew what the answer would be.
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Not just content, not just alright.
He'll watch, and wait, for the moment. Act when he knows what he's dealing with, and who.
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"Thank you for listening, Micah," he murmurs. "Thank you for keeping it secret for now."
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Micah doesn't know offhand where Anita is, but for right now it's just the warmth and comfort of curling up with one of his leopards, and knowing he's safe.
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Even this was more than he'd ever hoped for, but he's beginning to wonder if maybe it was time to begin hoping.
Wanting for himself finally.