( nick, unusually quiet, doesn't interrupt once. even though the way their foreheads touch makes something inside of him ache so painfully it's a wonder his knees don't buckle under him and send them both crashing into a heap of limbs on the floor.
nick can see that tristan's older, so twenty seven doesn't make him blink. he's always wondered where he might end up, and los angeles is as good a place as any for someone like tris. he really isn't worried until until tris gets to my version, and just like that nick can feel the thud of his pulse hammering away at his wrists, his throat, in his chest.
it doesn't change anything — but how could it not? he said nicola, and it seems stupid to have missed it now. they're so perfectly in tune, but nick can feel it now, the slight waver of a frequency just slightly off where it's supposed to be. )
You're a cop?
( is what he goes with in the end, laughing a little desperately and reaching up to catch hold of tris' wrists. he doesn't care if it's selfish. he doesn't care who this other nick — nic? — is, if they're desperately missing their own tristan. he needs an anchor so badly, he doesn't care that it's supposed to be someone else's. )
You're not. For me, you're— fuck, you're you. Younger, but you're the same.
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nick can see that tristan's older, so twenty seven doesn't make him blink. he's always wondered where he might end up, and los angeles is as good a place as any for someone like tris. he really isn't worried until until tris gets to my version, and just like that nick can feel the thud of his pulse hammering away at his wrists, his throat, in his chest.
it doesn't change anything — but how could it not? he said nicola, and it seems stupid to have missed it now. they're so perfectly in tune, but nick can feel it now, the slight waver of a frequency just slightly off where it's supposed to be. )
You're a cop?
( is what he goes with in the end, laughing a little desperately and reaching up to catch hold of tris' wrists. he doesn't care if it's selfish. he doesn't care who this other nick — nic? — is, if they're desperately missing their own tristan. he needs an anchor so badly, he doesn't care that it's supposed to be someone else's. )
You're not. For me, you're— fuck, you're you. Younger, but you're the same.