The grass beneath them softens further as Sunjata presses into Frey’s side, and their expression shifts into something achingly tender. A hand—calloused in one moment, silken in the next—reaches up to wipe the juice from his chin, their thumb grazing his beard with the casual intimacy of someone who’s known him far longer than time allows. "That’s better," they murmur, their voice a warm hum, a low tide lapping at the shores of his anxiety.
Frey takes another piece of fruit from the offerings, this time a cluster of grapes, and plucks one from the stem, holding it between their fingers. They offer it wordlessly, the green/blue of their eyes catching the firelight as they tilt their head, studying him. [says]"You know, gray-eyes, you could’ve called me sooner." The words are gentle, without reproach, their free hand tracing lazy patterns against Sunjata's shoulder, their touch feather-light but grounding. "You carry so much until it nearly breaks you...but here you are, still standing." The corners of their lips curve upward, their approval radiating like sunlight breaking through a storm.
The hand on his shoulder shifts, fingers trailing down his arm as they lean closer, their presence warm and intoxicating. "Take what you need, my darling one." They could guess, of course, but consent was one of the hallmarks of all of their relationships, and they'd not betray Sunjata's confidence simply by steamrolling through his autonomy.
The pomegranate catches their eye, and with a flick of their wrist, the fruit splits in two, its ruby seeds glistening like jewels in the firelight. "And if sweet is what you want…" Frey’s voice drops to a near purr as they hold it out to him, their features shifting slightly—Hotaru’s golden hair blending with Nate’s sharp angles in a way that feels seamless, perfectly balanced. "There’s more than just this that I can offer."
Frey takes another piece of fruit from the offerings, this time a cluster of grapes, and plucks one from the stem, holding it between their fingers. They offer it wordlessly, the green/blue of their eyes catching the firelight as they tilt their head, studying him. [says]"You know, gray-eyes, you could’ve called me sooner." The words are gentle, without reproach, their free hand tracing lazy patterns against Sunjata's shoulder, their touch feather-light but grounding. "You carry so much until it nearly breaks you...but here you are, still standing." The corners of their lips curve upward, their approval radiating like sunlight breaking through a storm.
The hand on his shoulder shifts, fingers trailing down his arm as they lean closer, their presence warm and intoxicating. "Take what you need, my darling one." They could guess, of course, but consent was one of the hallmarks of all of their relationships, and they'd not betray Sunjata's confidence simply by steamrolling through his autonomy.
The pomegranate catches their eye, and with a flick of their wrist, the fruit splits in two, its ruby seeds glistening like jewels in the firelight. "And if sweet is what you want…" Frey’s voice drops to a near purr as they hold it out to him, their features shifting slightly—Hotaru’s golden hair blending with Nate’s sharp angles in a way that feels seamless, perfectly balanced. "There’s more than just this that I can offer."
