// now knowing how to think, i scream aloud, begin to sink
my legs and arms are broken down with envy for the solid ground //
my legs and arms are broken down with envy for the solid ground //
“My clients do like the snake tongue thing.” He drawls a little playfully, finding the air a bit easier as the moments go on. Attention, perhaps, is what he needed to get through some of the fog, but it’s something he’d never dare to admit. He was raised subscribed to the thought that he wasn’t allowed to need anything. At least, nothing so simple as physical touch. And perhaps that had been his father’s thought process when he’d been raising him to be as emotionless as possible.
So, despite the awkward feeling and realization that he can’t feel much of anything in regards to a romantic kind of sensation or emotion, it sobers him a bit, letting him draw silent while she finishes up his face and he sits up a little to clean the rest of the soap off of his face to hand the towel off to her. “No?” He teases her immediate refusal of being a barber, and leans back a little to get more comfortable as he scents the aftershave in the air, split between her palms to warm it up and make it more malleable.
As her hands find his face they’re warm and soft, despite the callouses there from all of her hard work. It stings a touch, only in the spaces where his skin was more sensitive – not used to the close shave these days at all – but the Heartless doesn’t flinch or even so much as blink to feel it. It just has him inhaling a touch sharper, her hands on him, his eyes finding her face, the warmth of her palm lingering in a way that he doesn’t quite realize he’d needed until she’d offered him a shave.
Her fuck it confuses him initially, surprise flickering across his face in the streak of a lightning strike that flows through each and every one of his scars as she settles into his lap and he realizes that perhaps either she’s helping him to not feel anything – like they’d talked about before – or that she needs this too and they’d both offered to be there for one another if it ever came down to it.
And truthfully? Without the complexities of his heart getting in the way, Sunjata finds himself falling back into old habits to cope and deal. So no, it isn’t rawness that fills the Heartless’ face, but an understanding that softens once the surprise begins to vanish, the echo of the silent lightning along his face as him moving. A slow inhale, a shift of his hands to smooth up the outside of her thighs to her hips, his gaze lightening a touch as he pushes through the hands still on his face to meet her close enough as his chin lifts. “You sure?” He asks in a voice suddenly thick with his accent, giving her the opportunity just as she’s given him one to decide whether or not she wanted to.
He certainly wasn’t going to complain.
So, despite the awkward feeling and realization that he can’t feel much of anything in regards to a romantic kind of sensation or emotion, it sobers him a bit, letting him draw silent while she finishes up his face and he sits up a little to clean the rest of the soap off of his face to hand the towel off to her. “No?” He teases her immediate refusal of being a barber, and leans back a little to get more comfortable as he scents the aftershave in the air, split between her palms to warm it up and make it more malleable.
As her hands find his face they’re warm and soft, despite the callouses there from all of her hard work. It stings a touch, only in the spaces where his skin was more sensitive – not used to the close shave these days at all – but the Heartless doesn’t flinch or even so much as blink to feel it. It just has him inhaling a touch sharper, her hands on him, his eyes finding her face, the warmth of her palm lingering in a way that he doesn’t quite realize he’d needed until she’d offered him a shave.
Her fuck it confuses him initially, surprise flickering across his face in the streak of a lightning strike that flows through each and every one of his scars as she settles into his lap and he realizes that perhaps either she’s helping him to not feel anything – like they’d talked about before – or that she needs this too and they’d both offered to be there for one another if it ever came down to it.
And truthfully? Without the complexities of his heart getting in the way, Sunjata finds himself falling back into old habits to cope and deal. So no, it isn’t rawness that fills the Heartless’ face, but an understanding that softens once the surprise begins to vanish, the echo of the silent lightning along his face as him moving. A slow inhale, a shift of his hands to smooth up the outside of her thighs to her hips, his gaze lightening a touch as he pushes through the hands still on his face to meet her close enough as his chin lifts. “You sure?” He asks in a voice suddenly thick with his accent, giving her the opportunity just as she’s given him one to decide whether or not she wanted to.
He certainly wasn’t going to complain.
// i'm reaching for the life within me, how can one man stop his ending?
i thought of just your face, relaxed, and floated into space //
i thought of just your face, relaxed, and floated into space //
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
