// 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 //
“It’s where my hands are, so I can see there specifically.” Sunjata explains with a huff of a laugh against her skin, the croon of how he flatters her – amusement glinting briefly there despite the heat that threads through his veins with her movements. His head tilts up, pressing his lips to her collarbone. “Y’want me to be poetic?” He asks her, wondering if she’s seeking out the fact that he should be pretending that this is for more than just feeling something. Like there might be more to their situation than equal misery holding hands in the dark.
His breath huffs as she rolls her hips against his own jostling, her question one that might have had him still had she not been working him up – enough that when she pulls him in and buries his face into her neck, his lips trailing gently against her skin, Sunjata doesn’t freeze or flinch from the question. His voice is heavy, rough, and jostled when she tugs at his shirt. “Yeah.” Right now at least, though when the shininess of their tangling in the figurative sheets are over, he can’t say he’d still be happy.
Right now, though, it’s easier to drown in the electricity that blossoms between them, the one that has him shedding the tank top and leaving it in a heap on the floor where all his scars and tattoos are fully on display – the feathers and compasses in their full glory, the fiery heart with the arrow shot through it over his heart, the sleeve with the waves that darkens only one arm while the other maps out the path of a lightning strike that had raged through his body with its fingers creeping toward his heart before stilling like gnarled branches.
“Been a while since I’ve had to wear a blindfold.” He aims for the joke, at least, rather than letting his melancholy get to him, surging up somewhat blindly but able to make out her neck to press his lips to, his hands finding the smooth skin of her back to glide back down and dip his fingers into the waistband of her pants before sliding them between them to unbutton her pants, incredibly willing to help her balance herself to slip them off (sure he’ll have to do something similar shortly). "I don't hate it, in case you were wondering."
His breath huffs as she rolls her hips against his own jostling, her question one that might have had him still had she not been working him up – enough that when she pulls him in and buries his face into her neck, his lips trailing gently against her skin, Sunjata doesn’t freeze or flinch from the question. His voice is heavy, rough, and jostled when she tugs at his shirt. “Yeah.” Right now at least, though when the shininess of their tangling in the figurative sheets are over, he can’t say he’d still be happy.
Right now, though, it’s easier to drown in the electricity that blossoms between them, the one that has him shedding the tank top and leaving it in a heap on the floor where all his scars and tattoos are fully on display – the feathers and compasses in their full glory, the fiery heart with the arrow shot through it over his heart, the sleeve with the waves that darkens only one arm while the other maps out the path of a lightning strike that had raged through his body with its fingers creeping toward his heart before stilling like gnarled branches.
“Been a while since I’ve had to wear a blindfold.” He aims for the joke, at least, rather than letting his melancholy get to him, surging up somewhat blindly but able to make out her neck to press his lips to, his hands finding the smooth skin of her back to glide back down and dip his fingers into the waistband of her pants before sliding them between them to unbutton her pants, incredibly willing to help her balance herself to slip them off (sure he’ll have to do something similar shortly). "I don't hate it, in case you were wondering."
// 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.
