[ no one could ever say harry flynn knew when to keep his mouth shut. he'd meant it as a light jab, he hadn't meant to hurt nate, but clearly he isn't ready to joke about the matter. he thinks he should have known that, but it's too late and he's on the ground, nate on top of him, wrestling and probably making the wound worse after it's just healed.
score one harry flynn for the stupid moves tally.
he struggles, avoids hits when he can and takes them when he can't, trying to get himself out from under nate so he can pin him and keep him from aggravating his wound again, because that's really the last thing anyone needs. ] Nate - Nate!
[ he manages to shove his weight against the other, flipping their positions, straddling nate's hips and grabbing his wrists before another punch can be thrown. he's wet and there's snow sticking in his hair and on his clothes, this position's a bit awkward, but for the moment that's not what he's concentrating. it's the last outburst that gets his attention, because again nate's showing genuine hurt, and that bothers harry.
because, y'know, for some reason he cares. ]
Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have joked about that. But I swear what I said is the truth as I remember it. Look, obviously I can't say 'you can trust me' and have everything be right as rain, considering I'm a right bastard from your point of view. But - [ he hangs his head for a moment, heaves a sigh. harry flynn is not at all a touchy feely person but... ]
You're my friend, mate, though I do think you're bloody daft half the time. I wouldn't do that to you, even if it does mean Lazarebitch is gonna skin me alive when he catches me. [ which he does view as an inevitability, sorry to say. your luck's weird and not all that fortunate nate. ] That's about all I can say.
[ he lets go of nate's wrists, shifts off his hips to sit in the snow beside him instead, let him consider the words. and this time? he's not saying something stupid to jeopardize himself again. ]
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score one harry flynn for the stupid moves tally.
he struggles, avoids hits when he can and takes them when he can't, trying to get himself out from under nate so he can pin him and keep him from aggravating his wound again, because that's really the last thing anyone needs. ] Nate - Nate!
[ he manages to shove his weight against the other, flipping their positions, straddling nate's hips and grabbing his wrists before another punch can be thrown. he's wet and there's snow sticking in his hair and on his clothes, this position's a bit awkward, but for the moment that's not what he's concentrating. it's the last outburst that gets his attention, because again nate's showing genuine hurt, and that bothers harry.
because, y'know, for some reason he cares. ]
Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have joked about that. But I swear what I said is the truth as I remember it. Look, obviously I can't say 'you can trust me' and have everything be right as rain, considering I'm a right bastard from your point of view. But - [ he hangs his head for a moment, heaves a sigh. harry flynn is not at all a touchy feely person but... ]
You're my friend, mate, though I do think you're bloody daft half the time. I wouldn't do that to you, even if it does mean Lazarebitch is gonna skin me alive when he catches me. [ which he does view as an inevitability, sorry to say. your luck's weird and not all that fortunate nate. ] That's about all I can say.
[ he lets go of nate's wrists, shifts off his hips to sit in the snow beside him instead, let him consider the words. and this time? he's not saying something stupid to jeopardize himself again. ]