Chapter Thirty-Four: Gone-

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A/N: Song recommendation on the side from CountingLockets!

    After quitting the life of a rent boy and running out on Kyle as fast as I could, dust trailing behind me and all - I was surprised I even had any socks left on my feet from the friction - I found myself having a staring contest with the eye-hole on Nate's hotel suite's door. 

    It took about ten minutes of swaying back and forth on the balls of my feet, muttering encouraging words to myself, to work up the courage to actually knock on the door to let him know I was there, and then let myself in. 

    Nate, lounging on the sofa he was so fond of, graced me with a look of bewilderment as soon as I appeared in line with his sight. His eyes lingered on my holey socks for a little longer than I was comfortable with, before quirking an eyebrow at me in question. 

    I glanced down at them. "It's a new style. Holey socks." Nate nodded along to my stupidity, subtly amused. "You should get some. Gucci, holey socks." 

    "Sounds exquisite," he smirked, still nodding. I smiled, my insecurities most likely beaming through the small expression, like a fog light. He always managed to make me feel awkward and somewhat nervous at times. I wasn't sure why. 

    "What're you doing here in such a rush, then? Well, I presume it was in a rush, since you didn't even have time to put on your shoes." He chuckled lightly, motioning for me to sit down beside him. I obliged, shuffling over and ungracefully slumping down into the comfy seat. 

    "I just thought I'd let you know that...you might have to find yourself a new toy to play with," I slid him an anxious glance, awaiting his response with curiosity. 

    "I don't want a new toy to play with. I'm perfectly content with the one I have now." His smile was still intact, stretching from ear to ear, but I caught the slight tone of panic, underlying his humour. 

    "I quit. I finally told Kyle to fuck himself." I admitted, clasping my hands together and leaning forward. "Thing is, I know it's a long-shot and I get it if you say no, but I was wondering if it would be okay if- well, you see, when I told him to fuck himself, I didn't really think ahead and I sort of-" 

    "Ash," he interjected, his voice halting my flailing arms in their actions, as I was trying to project what I wanted to say. "You can stay here for as long as you need to. I've told you that before." His smile grew smaller, but it seemed more genuine that way. Warm. 

    I breathed a sigh of relief. "Nate, you don't know how grateful I am. Thank you." 

    "Absolutely. Do you want something to drink? You look thirsty." 

    "Oh, no, I can't stay. I gotta get back to Logan," I said as I pushed myself to my feet and began wandering over to the door. Nate cleared his throat, but I didn't pay any attention to it. 

    "How about some shoes then?" I stopped in my tracks at his words, and looked down at my feet for the second time. Shoes. Yeah, shoes would be great. 

    "Good thinking," I said, turning around and grinning at him like an idiot. He shook his head at me, heading for his bedroom. I waited patiently for him to reappear with a shoebox in hand. I swear, this guy was just prepared for everything. Like, who knew I'd turn up at his place, shoe-less and needing some? Brilliant. 

    "You're amazing, Nate, thanks!" I quickly shoved my feet into the, perfectly fitting, Nike shoes. This guy was a genius. "I'll be back later, I guess." I opened the door and just before closing it behind me, I looked Nate in the eye and said, "Thank you, so much." 

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