Nikolas just nodded, taking a slow drag of the cigarette and exhaling the smoke through his nose. Though cigarettes weren't a favorite of his (and Harold always made fun of the pipe), it was better than nothing. He looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye.
Some ash fell to the surface of his bad, and he flicked it off casually.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said finally. "I hit something like that last month. It makes you even more tired, right? Feeling like you're stuck?" Another drag. "And then I was talking to Lucy about it and she's...well, she's way ahead of any of us. Which just made me feel worse."
"You'll see, though. Eventually you feel like you're making progress again." He frowned. "I'm still having a hard time figuring out what we're supposed to, you know, do once we've all gotten it right though."