if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
i know you wanna go to heaven
She whispers, laughing lowly and accuses him of lying, and his steel gaze narrows and zones in on her, gritting his teeth against the accusation. But she claims to know him, claims to scare him, to pull him close and tell her she’s not afraid. His arms shake with the pressure on her shoulders as he applies it again, keeping himself away, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek before he falters and edges loser to her as her hands find the back of his head to her neck, tangling in his hair.
Yes. He thinks. I wish he was. But he doesn’t say it, instead he turns his head from her, shutting his eyes, trying to figure out where Phoebe ends and the blight begins. But it’s hard, so hard to determine it, and it haunts him. All he wants to do is help, that small soft child within him, wishing the best for knowing how much of an asshole he could be, and yet here she was with a spyglass, seeing through his defenses as though he were a glass house.
He finds he hates it.
He also finds he really craves a cigarette right now.
His head shifts toward her face, watching the dark inky black tears stream down her cheeks like mascara, sees the black edge to her body and lips, and he regrets all of it. He puffs out a sigh of frustration, anger, of her misunderstanding, because that’s what it has to be right? He wonders what happened to the girl who cried when his voice raised slightly, when he truly was scared, and if she’s still in there somewhere.
Instead, he decides to give in – leaning down toward her face, letting her near his defenses, as though he’s going for a kiss to her cheek. “It’s not possible.” He tells her, a hint of a sneer in his voice. “Lusea is my other half, she is my armor. She is where I begin and where I end.” His voice is rough, a hoarseness of a lover within the words, despite the bite. And he pulls back with a smirk. “Do I look like a liar to you?” He asks, pressing his hands into her shoulders further, until the snow begins to shift.
Yes. He thinks. I wish he was. But he doesn’t say it, instead he turns his head from her, shutting his eyes, trying to figure out where Phoebe ends and the blight begins. But it’s hard, so hard to determine it, and it haunts him. All he wants to do is help, that small soft child within him, wishing the best for knowing how much of an asshole he could be, and yet here she was with a spyglass, seeing through his defenses as though he were a glass house.
He finds he hates it.
He also finds he really craves a cigarette right now.
His head shifts toward her face, watching the dark inky black tears stream down her cheeks like mascara, sees the black edge to her body and lips, and he regrets all of it. He puffs out a sigh of frustration, anger, of her misunderstanding, because that’s what it has to be right? He wonders what happened to the girl who cried when his voice raised slightly, when he truly was scared, and if she’s still in there somewhere.
Instead, he decides to give in – leaning down toward her face, letting her near his defenses, as though he’s going for a kiss to her cheek. “It’s not possible.” He tells her, a hint of a sneer in his voice. “Lusea is my other half, she is my armor. She is where I begin and where I end.” His voice is rough, a hoarseness of a lover within the words, despite the bite. And he pulls back with a smirk. “Do I look like a liar to you?” He asks, pressing his hands into her shoulders further, until the snow begins to shift.
but you're human tonight
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.
