- NATE -
I don’t want a world
Without pain or loss
Without pain or loss
All is forgiven, or at least understood, and it takes a weight off Nate. He already felt like he was ruining things, he didn't need to be actually ruining relationships. He wasn't even gripped in the particular kind of petulant darkness where such a thing felt vaguely satisfying, this had brought pure guilt. It leaks away when the griffin climbs up into the bed, when Sunjata pulls him close, guilt and darkness replaced with an almost giddy lightness. Something better, though Nate knew he was sinking and rising too quickly, his moods shifting too much to ever be comfortable, or stable.
"You know," Nate manages to pull a righteous, indignant tone almost easily, "it's rude to eavesdrop." It's the easiest way to keep his cheeks from warming, though it's more of a reflex, it's not like a blush would show up on him anyway. "I'm... glad though. Glad I have you. Both of you." He reaches up and back, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of Sunjata's neck, the most contact he can muster without actually shifting. Which he'd like to avoid.
Apparently though, that's not a message that was passed onto the attuned. There's only a little bit of whining as he shifts up, the complaints dying in Nate's throat when they're finally properly settled, lying front to front. He dips in, pressing his face in against Sunjata's throat, imagining different circumstances that would have brought him to this place. Brighter ones, where the mood wasn't already a little soured by the bandage spanning his face.
"You know," Nate manages to pull a righteous, indignant tone almost easily, "it's rude to eavesdrop." It's the easiest way to keep his cheeks from warming, though it's more of a reflex, it's not like a blush would show up on him anyway. "I'm... glad though. Glad I have you. Both of you." He reaches up and back, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of Sunjata's neck, the most contact he can muster without actually shifting. Which he'd like to avoid.
Apparently though, that's not a message that was passed onto the attuned. There's only a little bit of whining as he shifts up, the complaints dying in Nate's throat when they're finally properly settled, lying front to front. He dips in, pressing his face in against Sunjata's throat, imagining different circumstances that would have brought him to this place. Brighter ones, where the mood wasn't already a little soured by the bandage spanning his face.
I just want them
To mean something
To mean something
