you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling
All Nate can do is gasp in a ragged breath while his mind scatters in a dozen directions, emotions blooming and dying away in a constant clamour. Somewhere within the mental noise, there’s words, I know and I love you and endless curses and promises.
Yes. He says silently, the single syllable almost breaking him. Almost. Nate bounces back in a moment, something manic taking over, forcing him to rise again, his empty hand smearing away the fluid leaking from his eyes. ”Yes! With the uh, the Halo,” he snaps, mind and body both moving too quickly. That connection refuses to break as he steps towards the front hall, Nate strong enough to drag Sunjata no matter what the other man wanted. ”We, we uh, we,” while his mouth is stuck, his mind isn’t, though the words are almost too fast paced to make out, got you that nice leather pair, remember? Buttery soft and warm, but crafted thin enough to allow a degree of flexibility.
Grabbing a box off the nearby shelf, he digs through it, no thought spared to how crazy he might look. None spared to how crazy he feels, hyper focused on this one single pair of gloves that he throws a different pair to the side, not noticing at all. Of course, the gloves are right near the bottom (first thing you take off) but as soon as he see them Nate goes very suddenly still again. Lifting them out of the box like they’re made of gold, Nate let’s put a breath, then turns to find Sunjata’s gaze, wordlessly handing a single glove over. Even his side of the bond is a low hum, all of the ascended working on pure impulse and not thought.
Except, of course, the moments spent pondering how to get a glove on with only one hand. It’s an eel ward struggle, culminating in Nate scraping the hand against his leg with the glove half on, a task made harder by the tight fit of the leather. No sooner is the bulk of his hand covered than he’s reaching out, trying to help Sunjata with the same fruitless task.
Yes. He says silently, the single syllable almost breaking him. Almost. Nate bounces back in a moment, something manic taking over, forcing him to rise again, his empty hand smearing away the fluid leaking from his eyes. ”Yes! With the uh, the Halo,” he snaps, mind and body both moving too quickly. That connection refuses to break as he steps towards the front hall, Nate strong enough to drag Sunjata no matter what the other man wanted. ”We, we uh, we,” while his mouth is stuck, his mind isn’t, though the words are almost too fast paced to make out, got you that nice leather pair, remember? Buttery soft and warm, but crafted thin enough to allow a degree of flexibility.
Grabbing a box off the nearby shelf, he digs through it, no thought spared to how crazy he might look. None spared to how crazy he feels, hyper focused on this one single pair of gloves that he throws a different pair to the side, not noticing at all. Of course, the gloves are right near the bottom (first thing you take off) but as soon as he see them Nate goes very suddenly still again. Lifting them out of the box like they’re made of gold, Nate let’s put a breath, then turns to find Sunjata’s gaze, wordlessly handing a single glove over. Even his side of the bond is a low hum, all of the ascended working on pure impulse and not thought.
Except, of course, the moments spent pondering how to get a glove on with only one hand. It’s an eel ward struggle, culminating in Nate scraping the hand against his leg with the glove half on, a task made harder by the tight fit of the leather. No sooner is the bulk of his hand covered than he’s reaching out, trying to help Sunjata with the same fruitless task.
& you're trembling and he reaches over
and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist
NATE
