confiscated: (⇀ a time of love)
Brooks Myers ([personal profile] confiscated) wrote in [personal profile] calloused 2020-09-14 07:44 pm (UTC)

I'm not hungry.

[He answers immediately, like that's all he has to say - and it could be, if he didn't a moment later hesitate as if drawn back to a part of himself he'd learned to rely on around Derek the last little while. That's the part where he's more open about himself, like he's stirring to make an additional comment because Derek is owed it, just like he's owed honesty and openness.

Tate's a bit displeased still, nose crinkling a bit at the pungent smell of the chicken and he'd rather not even stay in the room but he knows what his answer should be for Derek. And while he's not yet at the point where he wants to eat, he eases into it step by step:]


I feel kind of sick still, I haven't eaten all day.

[He wets his lips, glancing at Derek, assuming it means he's surrendering to it now like a dog with its ears tucked back and tail down in wary submission.]

I don't want a lot.

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