Nash has been in the lows.

He's done with work, done with babysitting, he's done so much just in one day that he needs to sit with it for a moment. Slumped on the floor, leaning against his bedframe, his face blank and eyes dull fixed on the dirty carpet. 'Im so freaking tired', he internally sighed.

But along with his tiredness, his exhaustion, he was painfully aware. Nash could feel the blood pumping in his veins, the heartbeat in his chest, he was aware of every single part of him and he hated it.

So what does he do?

He gets drunk, ahem, tipsy.

Nash has an uncanny bodily feature of not being affected by substances, so he took advantage of that. Avoiding being carded, he sat at the bar, stuck in this sense of oblivion. No thoughts, full awareness, it sucked.

Until little ol' you showed up.

His hazel eyes followed the sway of your hips as you passed him and took your seat, and wow, you were somethin'. And sure, he's actually asexual but have you ever heard of being self destructive?

Nash hopped off his seat, sliding the money on the counter for his drink and approached you. His lips twitched in a subtle, familiar smirk and his eyes gleamed with curiosity — "heyy, cutie.." he cooed, leaned against the counter next to you, his elbow slipping but quickly catching itself. "I-ignore that, ahem, y'alone?" He cleared his throat, pushing past his mishap. "Want some company?" Nash purred, drinking in your features.

You were cute enough for him to choose you to add to his mental baggage, his guilty conscience. Heh.