#thread.rhodes

Veer did not easily care for others. There was a threshold of importance one had to overcome in order for them to regard anyone as valuable enough that they would change anything about their life to fit them. At times, not even their parents fell in that category. But this kid.

Mujhe yakeen nahin ho raha!

This kid only existed, and Veer felt like he could move heaven and earth for her.

Though he had reservations as well. As he sat at the bench in the park watching the girl spin around, falling, getting back up, chasing ducks. She was perfect, a creation of his chaos and Rhodes’ beauty. Precious, tiny, he could pick her up and carry her around for days. This he knew.

But alas. She was connected to someone Veer did not know how to trust anymore. The real fear of getting send back always hung over him, like an immense shadow of a hawk that might swoop down at any second. Set its claws into him, scoop him up and throw him back into that tiny cell.

His dark eyes studied Rhodes as she got distracted, a call to someone, whomever. And he sped along the paved path to the girl, his back to Rhodes, hunching down beside Goldie. His child, a creature made from him. Partly at least.

Up close he saw the similarities better. “You must be Goldie,” he said, studying the girl. “You are adorable.”

VEER: pinned location VEER: me cancel hai VEER: don’t feel good

Veer had waded in and out of consciousness. Sometimes awake, sometimes asleep despite their eyes being open. They laid curled up in a foetus position, every piece of clothing and blanket either beneath them or on top of them, hoping to keep the warmth in. Clearly he wasn’t prepared. Clearly he should’ve found warmer clothes and thicker blankets. But he’d survived a much colder winter, and spring was about to step through the door. Why should he get sick now? 

He coughed as he got up to shuffle to his sports bag, taking the last water bottle in there, but finding that it was empty. He shook his head and laid back down. Perhaps he should send a message to the others from Snake Den, they could come pick him up, get him some blankets. He just wanted to be warm. He’d forgotten if he’d send a message to Rhodes, so he checked his phone again. Empty… he couldn't even let Rhodes know he wasn’t meeting her and Goldie for lunch. Or had he already? 

Nate was not someone who slowed down. The way he barged into the cafe should say as much, the way he blurted out his coffee order also. He probably shouldn't be having any coffee, he was almost vibrating. No, he was vibrating.

Soon as he got the mug, he almost spilled half of it already, just a few drops though, on the plate underneath it. He was sure that that was why it was there in the first place.

He walked to the first empty seat he could find, no matter that there was someone else sitting already. The coffee mug clattered as he set it down, and then he tipped it over as he sat down, half of it pouring over the table as he reached out to save it.

"Ah." He looked at the other person there and smiled. "I swear I'm more put together than this." Lies.

Abhinav was not one for parties, he’d never been. It was always his wife that dragged him along to the right places, who made sure he would enjoy whatever she threw at him. She knew when he felt most comfortable, when he needed a nudge, when it all got a bit too much. He trusted her to know when to go home, and when he wanted to stay a little longer. And he in return could notice all the small changes in her as well, when she had her limit with alcohol, when he needed to drive her home. Parties by himself were… different. His kids didn’t want to come along, they had scoffed at his idea of joining the party, and instead had all made plans of their own. Leaving Abhinav to fend by his lonesome. 

He spotted Rhodes a few moments after he’d ordered his second - and last - small shot of whiskey. Just something to take the edge off, he could hear his wife saying. He took careful notice of the crowd around him, before he made his way towards her. He was never sure if he should call her Rhodes or Emma, given he liked to call people by the name he had on file. So he went with Rhodes, a nickname was a nickname for a reason. “Ah, I think I can guess who you are,” he said, as he joined her. “Elvis’ wife.”