Nick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2015-07-08 07:36 pm
fuckitall) wrote in thecapitol2015-07-08 07:36 pm
Entry tags:
A pair of shoes, if you had three you'd give me two
Who| Nick, Luke
What| It's just another day for Nick, but then he finds a few presents and letter at the door.
Where| Nick's room.
When| Tuesday, the 7th.
After everything that has happened so far, this is one of the few days Nick has to himself to just lie down and process everything. A few weeks have passed and there had been no word about Clementine since. Nick had thought about visiting her room at the D6 suites, but he already knew when he saw Luke and Jane not too long after the fact. They all knew, but other shit in the Capitol got in the way for them to even talk about it (although what was there to even talk about?). He's still reeling it in, despite meeting other folks like Ellis who have given him some light but without Clementine, the already dim world got dimmer. All Nick could do is remind himself that Clementine's a smart and tough girl, and that if she is sent back to the world where the dead walk, it's more than evident that she'd be able to handle herself fine.
He only wishes he got to teach her another song at least. Something so small and mundane that had became important to him that he could've done for her after what she had done for him.
He had gotten up earlier to brush his teeth and change only to remain in bed still, staring up at the ceiling that has become familiar for him. The knock on the door keeps him from falling asleep again as he gets up to answer to an avox holding a gift bag. Nick peeks out both sides of the door as if to expect cameras or some sort of dumb Capitol surprise but as he watches the avox return to her station down the hall, he takes that as a sign that was all to expect.
There's some weight in the bag and its contents let out a quiet clink as he sets it down on the bed. He pulls out the items wrapped in tissue paper and raises a brow at the shot glasses. He sets the glass aside and pulls out the whiskey bottle next, examining its label before setting it down also. So much has been going on that it only just caught up to him that today was his birthday, and as far as he knew, there was only one other person that would do something like this for him.
He keeps that string of hope from being tugged too much when he opens the card and finds the notes inside, smiling to himself that his hope isn't unfounded as he reads through the handwriting he recognizes belonging to one other person.
The letter takes him to their lives before. Even just the day before the outbreak happened and broke out into a spiral that they live in now. When the times were better and survival only meant in the financial sense (that they both royally suck at - but it's one of many memories that Nick still holds close to his heart and looks back with a smile).
Neither of them are strangers to having heart to heart talks, let alone with one another, but so many things have gone unsaid between them for the longest time now. Doors never really locked, but also were never opened again once they had been shut. There's only a silent understanding that there are some things that just couldn't be talked about, given their situation, so they both just need to power through. Keeping everything in like that since then had his emotions come out in angry bursts. They have stayed together, but those months of keeping silent and having his mind in one place while his body kept up with everyone else had been the loneliest he ever experienced.
After all that time of leaving things unsaid, it's no wonder that Luke probably decided that a letter was probably the best way to get things out (even if the constant surveillance was taken to account).
Time's precious, he writes. Take the chance, he says. Nick's brows creases as he wonders if the guy is also taking his own advice - whatever it's meant to be applied to. It'd be the same thing Nick would tell him if their positions had been reversed. It's always been easier to know the right thing to say than to actually bring yourself to actually believing in them. Easier said than done, and some folks just have an easier time getting it done. Nick's not one of them.
Luke believes he can. He believed in him since they met way back in day 1, when Nick had been the new kid in town and Luke welcomed him with open arms.
Nick's eyes never left the letter though he had stopped reading for a while. It just takes one blink for him to realize that the paper is slightly blotted by his stupid tears. He curses at himself quietly as he wipes his eyes roughly with his sleeve, and tries to hide the smile forming with it. Folding the papers up and slipping it back into the card (he'll tuck it somewhere safe later), he clears his throat and calls up Luke.
"Get yourself over here, you asshole," he attempts some level of birthday boy authority with his tone, but the laughter escaping his grin and evidence of tears falling from his voice makes it unconvincing. "I'm not drinkin' this alone."
What| It's just another day for Nick, but then he finds a few presents and letter at the door.
Where| Nick's room.
When| Tuesday, the 7th.
After everything that has happened so far, this is one of the few days Nick has to himself to just lie down and process everything. A few weeks have passed and there had been no word about Clementine since. Nick had thought about visiting her room at the D6 suites, but he already knew when he saw Luke and Jane not too long after the fact. They all knew, but other shit in the Capitol got in the way for them to even talk about it (although what was there to even talk about?). He's still reeling it in, despite meeting other folks like Ellis who have given him some light but without Clementine, the already dim world got dimmer. All Nick could do is remind himself that Clementine's a smart and tough girl, and that if she is sent back to the world where the dead walk, it's more than evident that she'd be able to handle herself fine.
He only wishes he got to teach her another song at least. Something so small and mundane that had became important to him that he could've done for her after what she had done for him.
He had gotten up earlier to brush his teeth and change only to remain in bed still, staring up at the ceiling that has become familiar for him. The knock on the door keeps him from falling asleep again as he gets up to answer to an avox holding a gift bag. Nick peeks out both sides of the door as if to expect cameras or some sort of dumb Capitol surprise but as he watches the avox return to her station down the hall, he takes that as a sign that was all to expect.
There's some weight in the bag and its contents let out a quiet clink as he sets it down on the bed. He pulls out the items wrapped in tissue paper and raises a brow at the shot glasses. He sets the glass aside and pulls out the whiskey bottle next, examining its label before setting it down also. So much has been going on that it only just caught up to him that today was his birthday, and as far as he knew, there was only one other person that would do something like this for him.
He keeps that string of hope from being tugged too much when he opens the card and finds the notes inside, smiling to himself that his hope isn't unfounded as he reads through the handwriting he recognizes belonging to one other person.
The letter takes him to their lives before. Even just the day before the outbreak happened and broke out into a spiral that they live in now. When the times were better and survival only meant in the financial sense (that they both royally suck at - but it's one of many memories that Nick still holds close to his heart and looks back with a smile).
Neither of them are strangers to having heart to heart talks, let alone with one another, but so many things have gone unsaid between them for the longest time now. Doors never really locked, but also were never opened again once they had been shut. There's only a silent understanding that there are some things that just couldn't be talked about, given their situation, so they both just need to power through. Keeping everything in like that since then had his emotions come out in angry bursts. They have stayed together, but those months of keeping silent and having his mind in one place while his body kept up with everyone else had been the loneliest he ever experienced.
After all that time of leaving things unsaid, it's no wonder that Luke probably decided that a letter was probably the best way to get things out (even if the constant surveillance was taken to account).
Time's precious, he writes. Take the chance, he says. Nick's brows creases as he wonders if the guy is also taking his own advice - whatever it's meant to be applied to. It'd be the same thing Nick would tell him if their positions had been reversed. It's always been easier to know the right thing to say than to actually bring yourself to actually believing in them. Easier said than done, and some folks just have an easier time getting it done. Nick's not one of them.
Luke believes he can. He believed in him since they met way back in day 1, when Nick had been the new kid in town and Luke welcomed him with open arms.
Nick's eyes never left the letter though he had stopped reading for a while. It just takes one blink for him to realize that the paper is slightly blotted by his stupid tears. He curses at himself quietly as he wipes his eyes roughly with his sleeve, and tries to hide the smile forming with it. Folding the papers up and slipping it back into the card (he'll tuck it somewhere safe later), he clears his throat and calls up Luke.
"Get yourself over here, you asshole," he attempts some level of birthday boy authority with his tone, but the laughter escaping his grin and evidence of tears falling from his voice makes it unconvincing. "I'm not drinkin' this alone."
no subject
Luke turns his head at the reference to Celebrus, scoffing softly. No sense in playing dumb with that shit-eating grin spreading across Nick's face. "Didn't know you paid attention that that shit." Every now and again there's a grain of truth in those write-ups. Well, a speck of fly shit might be more accurate. He has skimmed over issues from time to time though admittedly is more curious now that Rochelle has mentioned her own contributions to the magazine.
"I... might a' been seein' someone on the down-low." He can't help smiling as he says it, reminded of the times they'd sit around talking about girls. Well, he had done most of the talking with Nick offering commentary between sips of beer. It makes more sense now.
"Nothin' official." His smile slants gradually into a frown. "Didn't think I'd get to remember what this feels like, to tell you the truth. I mean... there were moments... but I guess, after a while, I thought that was as good as it'd ever get. Iunno..." The thought sits for a while before he snorts, shaking his head. "Might just be gettin' ahead myself."