God, you're clingy.

[ Comes the wry chuckle from the entrance to the bar, where Nate pushes himself off the jamb and into the room with no small amount of exhaustion. He's relieved the place is cleared out now, no witnesses save for the guy who was cleaning up after an easy shift. Nate is surprised Wade hadn't already left. ]

Had to double back, make sure she wouldn't follow me.

[ He looks like a wreck, all scuffed knees and frayed edges, the crew collar of his gray shirt stained with a thick, dark red. It patches his sleeves at his elbows, scrapes through the soft fabric on his torso like the handiwork of a particularly large, particularly angry cat. It coagulates under his fingers where his palm is pressed to the side of his throat, staunching the flow. As comfortable as Nate appears with the circumstances, smile and all, he bumps a table with his thigh and has to stop, off-balance until he settles his free hand on the cool metal top.

He feels the adrenaline fading and desperately hopes he wasn't tracked back here. ]

...wow, lost a lot more blood than I thought.