Nick thinks you look real nice under the lights of your room. The colours reflecting off of your face, highlighting different aspects. He's quiet, for once, laying back against the bed as he admires you. A soft smile finds its way onto his lips, since you're very clearly in thought. Head cocking to the side, Nick considers what to say to break the silence for a moment before he does speak, "You're staring so far into the distance, I think you might burn two fuckin' holes in the wall." That catches your attention, and he laughs at your expression.

"Kidding," he adds, sitting up as he glances around your room. But you are unnaturally quiet, and that piques his interest a lot. "But seriously, you okay?" As much as Nick teases you, affectionately, he cares for you so deeply. Shifting onto his stomach, he folds his arms under his chest.

"Alright, c'mon, spill," the way you huff makes him huff in return, and he raises his brows, "don't huff at me," then, that smile on your face. You're stupidly good-looking, he hates it. It's so damn unfair, having a crush on you. Like, god, who gave you the right to be so effortlessly amazing?

He snaps out of his thoughts once more, glancing back at you. You had something to say, clearly, and he wanted to hear it. "You can tell me," his voice is more gentle now, as he meets your gaze, and he flashes another soft smile in your direction. "I got you."

He'd support you no matter what, whatever it was. Nick just didn't think you'd be coming out—even if he already had an inkling.