#rhiannon10

[n8-shaw]

"Sorry," Nate muttered, his lips pressing together and a hint of sheepishness coming into his voice as his hand hovered over Rhia's back, unable to recall if this was the type of coughing that would benefit from his trying to help or if he'd make it worse. Instead, he just hung in the in between, not helping her but his hand just a breath away. There was probably a metaphor in there somewhere, perhaps even more so with the way he reached back out for the pipe with relief, her handing it back to him giving him something to do. "This shit is...strong." Or whatever made someone cough more. He didn't know - nor did he think this strain was particularly bad but he couldn't help but say something, take the blame for Rhia's coughing. It was probably his fault realistically, so he may as well. Nate frowned, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "I have spliffs somewhere too. You coulda said you preferred, mate," he said - different highs for different times. He was rarely without his options. No way was he going to potentially leave himself to face any of this sober.

The intro played softly in front of them, though Rhia was too preoccupied with watching Nate from her peripheral to pay much attention. A mundane sight for the most part, Nate habitually packing his pipe with eyes that said he was a million miles away. Save for the fact he didn't glance at her and there were still mountains between them, it was a comfort. She might have changed, their tumultuous relationship metamorphosed in something entirely different once again, but maybe they could still share this. It was why she accepted the pipe with a gushy 'thanks' and an eager smile.

Her mistake was her overconfidence, in having gone several many months with her bong untouched. She wanted to prove she could do without it, though in hindsight the cost seemed much higher than the reward had been. Rhia dragged from the pipe and embraced the familar burn at the back of her throat; it quickly turned much more unbearable and disorienting a second later. She practically choked on the inhale, and puffs of smoke shot from her mouth as she broke into a fit of coughs. She waved the pipe back toward Nate, face bright red from the utter horror of humiliation and the struggle to breathe.

"Here," she forced out. "Take it back, for fuck's sake." Eventually, the feeling subsided and she sat up straight. Her head felt woozy, perhaps from the start of a high but more likely the lack of oxygen. She cringed as she looked at Nate, assessing the level of damage. "Buy some fucking papers, dingus," Rhia complained with a pout, settling to push the blame for her embarrassment on his chosen medium to get high.

[nate-shaw]

who: @rhiannonindigo​ where: rhi’s room when: some night the week before christmas, dec 19-21st issshhh

Nate showed up at Rhia’s room without any warning - it was never something he used to do, but with the shit that had been going on recently, he - for once - couldn’t bare to be alone. Normally beating the shit out of someone would be his go to move when he was in a mood like this, the only way he could get out that tension, but he had tried that. And it had resulted in the purpling bruises on his face, the busted lip and nose, the black eyes that he was sure would take well past the holiday’s to completely fade. He banged on her door despite the fact that it was late - too late to just be showing up - his fist slamming on it with an insistence that made it clear he hadn’t even thought about the fact that she may not be there. Or be busy if she was. 

Finally, Rhia opened the door, Nate’s hand hovering in mid air for a moment before he dropped it to his side, looking down at her, though not quite meeting her eyes as his face automatically turned into a frown. “Hey,” he said, the word quiet, almost soft. For him, at least. “Mind some company?” he asked, already brushing past her into her room. 

[n8-shaw]

Nate nodded, the short bob of his head the only confirmation he gave Rhia as he pushed himself up from his seat, grabbing the weed he had brought so he could pack them a bowl. He planted himself on the edge of the couch - leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees as he busied himself setting up over the coffee table in front of them. Easier to keep Rhia to his peripherals than have to see her, have to see how things had changed.

He didn’t quite know how to act around her anymore - once, he had thought she was one of the few people in this world who may actually understand him. Now? He wasn’t so sure. No, now he could see clearly that she was always chasing the very thing that had fucked him over, the people who couldn’t care less about stepping on him to get ahead. Perhaps he should’ve seen her determination to be one of them when she hadn’t heeded his warnings about Jesse and Greer. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been swayed by her claims to the contrary - just because he had seen himself in her didn’t mean she felt the same. She clearly didn’t, and yet, she was still here, still pushing her way in. He couldn’t deny that every so often she perplexed him, her motives and his understanding getting tangled, but then, he recalled the bigger picture she had clearly never wanted him to see, remembered her pattern - he was nothing but a filler, a time gap when she couldn’t get those she actually wanted.

Realizing how long he had lapsed into silence as he methodically packed the bowl, Nate lifted it to his lips, glancing sideways at Rhia as he flicked his litter twice before lighting it so he could take a deep drag. He held the smoke in for a few moments, flicking his lighter on and off as he did, before exhaling it in a long stream, holding the pipe out towards her. "Here," he said, finally shifting back onto the couch, long legs stretched in front of him as he leaned against the back of it.

Nate's uninterested agreement was enough for Rhia, who promptly helped herself to his TV to set it up. She was content to do it anyway, thankful for any semblance of normalcy when most times it felt like they were both too preoccupied ignoring the elephant in the room... Though Rhia had no clue which elephant it was Nate avoided like the plague. It was significant enough that things had fundamentally changed in a way she felt but struggled to verbalize. Nate was still there, his voice was the same, his stature, his face. It shifted because of her.

As naive as she spent her life pretending to be, she knew what had changed. Nate no longer loved her - or lusted for her, at least not in the same way. Rhia was nothing to him, as expendable as some damaged good or any other person he didn't care for. It left her with a feeling of loss, a yearning to return to something that no longer existed. She could shed a lifetime of tears, and it wouldn't change. "Sure," she replied, unintentionally mimicking his own answer. "Just... don't judge me if I get a little weird, yeah? Been awhile." She let out a laugh, despite not joking whatsoever. Along with some wildly vivid dreams and a major appetite loss, she had the occasional meltdown from being a little too high which was... new.

[n8-shaw]

Nate shrugged up his shoulders again, a slight grimace appearing on his face. Sometimes, he wasn't even sure he really didn't like to socialize - or if it was more that he didn't like the people he was constantly forced to socialize with. The latter definitely didn't help the situation, at the very least. Back in high school, he had been naive enough to think he could fit in, to think the differences between him and his peers wasn't enough to permanently isolate him. Now, he knew it would at some point or another. Didn't often feel like pretending otherwise - in a way, he didn't see the point at all.

He tried not to stiffen at the casual contact as Rhia leaned against him, his first instinct to the abrupt invasion of his personal space certainly not to allow it. It used to be different - at least with her. He had gotten used to her, he had wanted her, but now...even though those things were still true, there was enough of a gulf between them that his base instincts couldn't help but over power them.

"Sure," Nate said as Rhia rambled on, half listening to her suggestions - it's not like he'd have an opinion if he listened anyways. "Want a bowl?" he suggested, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. Maybe getting stoned would make things feel...normal again. Worth a shot, at least.

"Oh, plenty," Rhia volleyed, not surprised by Nate's immediate instinct to be hard-headed. "For those of us that enjoy socializing," she teased, already under the assumption he had spent majority of the break thus far skulking out in his room... which wasn't dissimilar to Rhia's own experience. She was aware of what might change if she verbalized that, how one might view her recent stints of isolation given they were abnormal for her. She doubted Nate even realized she pulled back, because their contact had already been strained.

Ignoring the flutter in her chest as Nate sat beside her, Rhia pretended to distract herself with the list of movie titles to choose from. "Well, they can decide to kick me out then if they want to," she dismissed. She crossed the space between them, leaning back to rest on Nate's shoulder. She tilted her head up to look at him and stroked her chin as she said, "Maybe you'd appreciate a gothic Christmas. We could start with Edward Scissorhands. Not a full on holiday movie, but there’s snow so it counts," Rhia explained, rambling mostly to herself.

[n8-shaw]

Things had changed between Nate and Rhia since last year - there was no denying it. And he was pretty sure he knew why too, though he couldn't bring himself to ask why she was still pretending to care about him. Maybe because as soon as he pointed out, the effort - if inconsistent now - would completely disappear.

"Are there plans to be had?" he asked, mumbling the question under his breath as Rhia entered the room he was staying in without any invitation, glancing towards her with a raise of his eyebrow. He hated this place - hated being here, hated feeling like he shouldn't be. Seemed like no one was doing anything besides what you'd expect of college students in the hamptons, anyways. Nate would've been perfectly content to mope in his room for the duration of the break.

Which may have been what he had been doing before Rhia entered.

He made a small noise, neither agreeing nor the opposite, shrugging. He knew it was the type of thing that plenty of people considered a tradition, but he certainly didn't. Hated talking about them, too, the way people were always surprised when he had never seen something that was considered a classic. "Don't know when my roommates will be back," he said, even as he dropped onto the couch beside Rhia, one long leg kicked out in front of him.

who: @n8-shaw when: evening where: nate's room

A year ago, a case of boredom would have justified any of the antics she delivered straight to Nate's door. She needed no reason to see him, and he would play along regardless of how far she pushed (in most cases). Now, a simple text to inquire about his whereabouts felt like a desperate plea for his attention. Maybe that's all this came down to; her desire to be accepted by him. Once, where she would have greeted him with two arms wrapped around his neck and a cheek kiss, now she merely gave a halfhearted salutation. Despite her attempts to seem normal, she couldn't look at Nate without being reminded of the painful space between them. She was helpless to do anything but quietly yearn for what they once shared. "Hope you didn't have plans tonight," Rhia declared, plopping on the couch and kicking her shoes off. "'Cause I rented every cheesy holiday movie I could find," she smirked. She knew he wasn't the holiday type, but it was the easiest excuse she could think to drop by.