[ No — in a hall full of suits and dresses, all of them disguised in masks of varying shapes, colours, sizes, everything that made someone unique is hidden away behind glitz and glamour — he really was no different from the rest.
But Nate feels like he could pick Elena out of a crowd any time; she really was just that special, he really was just that much of an idiot, and he'd memorized everything about her for years. When he catches sight of that familiar figure dressed to the nines, it's 'familiar' that feels like a gut-punch, makes him think he must be hallucinating things, because what the hell are the odds?
He can feel the sudden weight of his wedding band around his finger manifesting his guilt and shame, and he resists the urge to reach for it, to twist it like it could ease the way his stomach churns. (Idiot, idiot.) And the world around him feels like it's slowed down to a heavy blur of music and glittering lights and it's just him and Elena and a wide distance between them. He isn't sure if she'd seen him; he isn't sure she would have stopped even if she had. And he could let her go — hell, it'd probably be the smart thing to do when he'd already dug himself so deep into a situation he's sure he can't come back from. But —
(God. Why did he lie in the first place? Why didn't he go after her? Why couldn't he have come clean about Sam earlier? No, no, no — he had reasons. He did. And Sam — he needs him. Nate has to save his brother's life, because there's no one else, because he owes him that much at least.)
Still. He's gotta try, right? If this whole journey is about being a better person, making amends and saving lives, isn't it worth something to try? He moves to follow her, parting from the crowd, one hand reaching up to pull at his mask because it feels ridiculous to greet your estranged wife when you're concealed, and yet — even now, it still won't budge. ]
hold me i'm scared
But Nate feels like he could pick Elena out of a crowd any time; she really was just that special, he really was just that much of an idiot, and he'd memorized everything about her for years. When he catches sight of that familiar figure dressed to the nines, it's 'familiar' that feels like a gut-punch, makes him think he must be hallucinating things, because what the hell are the odds?
He can feel the sudden weight of his wedding band around his finger manifesting his guilt and shame, and he resists the urge to reach for it, to twist it like it could ease the way his stomach churns. (Idiot, idiot.) And the world around him feels like it's slowed down to a heavy blur of music and glittering lights and it's just him and Elena and a wide distance between them. He isn't sure if she'd seen him; he isn't sure she would have stopped even if she had. And he could let her go — hell, it'd probably be the smart thing to do when he'd already dug himself so deep into a situation he's sure he can't come back from. But —
(God. Why did he lie in the first place? Why didn't he go after her? Why couldn't he have come clean about Sam earlier?
No, no, no — he had reasons. He did. And Sam — he needs him. Nate has to save his brother's life, because there's no one else, because he owes him that much at least.)
Still. He's gotta try, right? If this whole journey is about being a better person, making amends and saving lives, isn't it worth something to try? He moves to follow her, parting from the crowd, one hand reaching up to pull at his mask because it feels ridiculous to greet your estranged wife when you're concealed, and yet — even now, it still won't budge. ]
— Elena? Hey! Hey, Elena!