[ That next comment earns a scoff. ] Oh I am not your fucking sweetheart. [ There are words in his head, things to call him, but he's not about to use any of those slurs. ]
How about you drink your drink and stop trying to be one of the big boys.
[ Lucy no longer finds this amusing. She shifts a bit and grabs at her bag. ] Yeah we should probably. I'll call you okay? [ She looks to Matt, but she's still grabbing her stuff and making to move, her and Nate leaving as quick af tbh ]
~~~
[ It's some unspecified amount of time later (idk), on a Saturday morning and Matt is in the communal kitchen. He's short on cash, nobody at home helps and his wages seem to go nowhere. But he managed enough for a loaf of bread, so he's standing in jogger bottoms and a battered old top, making himself a bit of toast and 'borrowing' the butter and jam of whoever it is that left some in the fridge.
[Somehow, they didn't realize this before. Nate goes to bed fairly early and Matt is a night owl because of his job. They've never crossed paths in the halls until this very moment.
Which is bad enough, but also Nate recognizes that jam label.]
[ He looks down and feels sort of guilty. He'd have asked if he knew, and it's fucking typical that it had to be him. But he's not about to g et all apologetic when the guy is being a knob. He's far too hot headed for that. ]
Oh phone the police, someone took some jam. I don't see your name on it.
[ Matt makes an obvious shove of the jam across the counter, and proceeds to eat his toast without it (though with the butter he's already stolen, obv). He gives him a look. ]
Probably because I live here then isn't it, genuis? Room 6E. [ Aka the room you probably heard sex coming from that time. Or more times. ]
Nathaniel. [He says, crossing his arms over his chest. He purposefully doesn't ask for his name because he aggressively acts like he doesn't care. And he could find out from Lucy anyway.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Yeah well better charm that than a stuck up wanker that thinks he's better than everyone else.
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I can be plenty charming when I want to. But you're not my type, sweetheart.
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[ That next comment earns a scoff. ] Oh I am not your fucking sweetheart. [ There are words in his head, things to call him, but he's not about to use any of those slurs. ]
How about you drink your drink and stop trying to be one of the big boys.
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~~~
[ It's some unspecified amount of time later (idk), on a Saturday morning and Matt is in the communal kitchen. He's short on cash, nobody at home helps and his wages seem to go nowhere. But he managed enough for a loaf of bread, so he's standing in jogger bottoms and a battered old top, making himself a bit of toast and 'borrowing' the butter and jam of whoever it is that left some in the fridge.
Big mistake ]
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Which is bad enough, but also Nate recognizes that jam label.]
The fuck do you think you're doing?
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The fuck does it look like?
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Oh phone the police, someone took some jam. I don't see your name on it.
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You want your fucking jam then take it. Prick.
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The hell are you doing in here anyway. This kitchen is for residents.
[He's too mad to put it together right now.]
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Probably because I live here then isn't it, genuis? Room 6E. [ Aka the room you probably heard sex coming from that time. Or more times. ]
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Of course you do.
[Why is this his life??]
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So are you done with Lucy, then? On to the next one?
[Making some assumptions about Matt being a player douche tbh]
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You know what you sound? You sound jealous. Maybe you're not getting any. Not my problem.
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[Except he hasn't gotten laid since he got here. Too focused on classes.]
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So. Nate. What you studying? Because if it's being a knob then you're definitely going to get a first.
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Spoilers: he won't.]
But my name's not Nate. Or is Nathaniel too much for you to remember?
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So what sort of artist are you then, Nate? A piss artist?
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