skin deep

the thing that’s so interesting about nick is that he’s actually a very fearful mammal. he’s scared of heights, afraid of falling down deep depths, and easily squeamish, whenever met with something unfamiliar or icky to him. but his fear of losing judy, in whatever way shape or form, takes precedence. being afraid of falling becomes being afraid judy will fall, so he jumps with her. afraid of drowning down an interminable distance of water results in him ignoring his need for air—all in the name of saving her. everything about him flips when it comes to her, actually. half the city’s been destroyed? the chief is about to chew him out? couldn’t care less. it’s funny, even. but a toy carrot pen recorder shatters and he looks like he’s been shot, so utterly and deeply terrified to have upset her, so freaked and petrified at the notion that he could lose her, when she’s not even his to lose. people attack him with insults, jeers, derision. not a peep from him. doesn’t care for an apology. but he wants her sorries. he wants to know that he affects her, that how he feels matters to her. because maybe… just maybe, if he tugged at her sleeve long enough, he could be more truthful about his honesty. he could elaborate on the nature of his love for her. he could give her a recurring live performance of his feelings rather than encapsulating it all in an oft-overplayed recording, that she will no doubt whip out at any given opportunity: a push, shove, and nudge for how he used to tease her. only problem is, his joke was funny because she’s never been a dumb bunny, whereas her joke about him will be hilarious because he loves her more than she’ll ever know.