It's cool, man. Nacho gets it. He's had his tense days, too. He just buries it deeper, that's all. Plus, he has the shock of suddenly being alive again after literally killing himself to hamper some of his emotions. Some days, he feels like he's living with all of his feelings behind a glass wall. Like he knows what he should feel but can only actually feel the whisper of the ghost of the emotion he should be experiencing.
Other days... well, other days he's as tense as Jesse is now.
He nods at Jesse's introduction. "Pinkman it is," he says with a shrug. He can't explain why, but using Jesse's last name just feels right somehow. Maybe because he can't help feeling drawn to this kid, wanting to look out for him, almost feeling like maybe they have more in common than just a potential shared relationship with ABQ -- and his brain's natural trauma response screams silently to create distance, and to hold onto that distance like a security blanket, even though Nacho's not sure that's what he really wants to do.
"Uh. Yeah. It's not sensitive info, but" -- Nacho looks around again, and then looks down, gesturing with only his eyes to the nametag he wears that bears a fake name on it -- "I don't wanna get caught goofing around. I've already been reprimanded once already."
Here he gives Jesse a small smile, almost conspiratorial in nature.
"Nah, man. Your room's good." It always surprises Nacho how willing people are to trust here, at least when it comes to the others within their group. It would never occur to him to invite a random stranger into his quarters, even one as friendly and harmless-seeming as Jesse. But it occurs to him too that maybe his surprise is a sign of something wrong with him, not them.
Going two years with only one person you can trust really takes a toll on a person's mental state, after all.
Going to Jesse's room with him feels, to Nacho, not unlike jumping off a cliff, plunging straight into frigid water below. It's not that he thinks Jesse's going to do anything. He's more worried for Jesse than worried about him, if anything. But it's the act of going somewhere alone with a stranger, somewhere as isolated as said stranger's room, that feels like a huge step.
A step he's going to have to take eventually, though. Might as well be now.
He follows Jesse to his cabin, and again looks both ways before they duck inside. The consequences for getting caught aren't dire, not the way they were back home. He'd just get yelled at, that's it. But the paranoid urges haven't left him yet and anyway he's not in the mood to get talked down to by some stiff supervisor.
When they shut the door, Nacho hesitates, unsure how to broach what he wants to say. Unsure how to explain it.
"So. Albuquerque, huh?" He pauses. "What year?"
Sorry for his bluntness, Jesse! He's not trying to break your brain or anything. Seriously.
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Other days... well, other days he's as tense as Jesse is now.
He nods at Jesse's introduction. "Pinkman it is," he says with a shrug. He can't explain why, but using Jesse's last name just feels right somehow. Maybe because he can't help feeling drawn to this kid, wanting to look out for him, almost feeling like maybe they have more in common than just a potential shared relationship with ABQ -- and his brain's natural trauma response screams silently to create distance, and to hold onto that distance like a security blanket, even though Nacho's not sure that's what he really wants to do.
"Uh. Yeah. It's not sensitive info, but" -- Nacho looks around again, and then looks down, gesturing with only his eyes to the nametag he wears that bears a fake name on it -- "I don't wanna get caught goofing around. I've already been reprimanded once already."
Here he gives Jesse a small smile, almost conspiratorial in nature.
"Nah, man. Your room's good." It always surprises Nacho how willing people are to trust here, at least when it comes to the others within their group. It would never occur to him to invite a random stranger into his quarters, even one as friendly and harmless-seeming as Jesse. But it occurs to him too that maybe his surprise is a sign of something wrong with him, not them.
Going two years with only one person you can trust really takes a toll on a person's mental state, after all.
Going to Jesse's room with him feels, to Nacho, not unlike jumping off a cliff, plunging straight into frigid water below. It's not that he thinks Jesse's going to do anything. He's more worried for Jesse than worried about him, if anything. But it's the act of going somewhere alone with a stranger, somewhere as isolated as said stranger's room, that feels like a huge step.
A step he's going to have to take eventually, though. Might as well be now.
He follows Jesse to his cabin, and again looks both ways before they duck inside. The consequences for getting caught aren't dire, not the way they were back home. He'd just get yelled at, that's it. But the paranoid urges haven't left him yet and anyway he's not in the mood to get talked down to by some stiff supervisor.
When they shut the door, Nacho hesitates, unsure how to broach what he wants to say. Unsure how to explain it.
"So. Albuquerque, huh?" He pauses. "What year?"
Sorry for his bluntness, Jesse! He's not trying to break your brain or anything. Seriously.