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 in his ear, and he grits his teeth again – a muscle feathering in his jaw at the implications. He wants to tell her that he doesn’t want to be loved fully, that he still plans on living fast and dying young – and dying at the hands of his flame. Because that is how it should be, how it is, how it always will be. Her hands keep him near, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight when he tries to pull away, instead, steel eyes looking into her own black rimmed ones with a crooked smirk on his lips.
And then she tells him yes.
But Sunjata doesn’t skip a beat, instead, his gaze focuses on her again as her hands begin to trail and he presses her further into the snow with frustration. He wants her to stop talking, stop bringing up the past so he can plant the one fucking rose he came to, but she’s doing her best to prevent it. And his head tilts slightly with the caress, brow furrowing slightly at the gentleness. “Ah, so you know me so well.” He begins to say until her hands are at his throat, and his hands leave her shoulders to reach for her hands, feeling the bruises begin to form.
She isn’t very strong, but he doesn’t trust it, trying to take those daggers away. “I am trying to help you.” He hisses through clenched teeth, a bite to his cheek enough to draw more blood as her hands reopen clotted wounds. “If you fucking let me.” But he doesn’t think she will, and he desperately wants her to stop with the talking, stop with the finger pointing and the blame, to stop trying to reemerge the scared child within him.
But he can’t help but to think about her statement, while he struggles somewhat with her hands around his neck. “Who says I want to be loved?” He snaps.
And then she tells him yes.
But Sunjata doesn’t skip a beat, instead, his gaze focuses on her again as her hands begin to trail and he presses her further into the snow with frustration. He wants her to stop talking, stop bringing up the past so he can plant the one fucking rose he came to, but she’s doing her best to prevent it. And his head tilts slightly with the caress, brow furrowing slightly at the gentleness. “Ah, so you know me so well.” He begins to say until her hands are at his throat, and his hands leave her shoulders to reach for her hands, feeling the bruises begin to form.
She isn’t very strong, but he doesn’t trust it, trying to take those daggers away. “I am trying to help you.” He hisses through clenched teeth, a bite to his cheek enough to draw more blood as her hands reopen clotted wounds. “If you fucking let me.” But he doesn’t think she will, and he desperately wants her to stop with the talking, stop with the finger pointing and the blame, to stop trying to reemerge the scared child within him.
But he can’t help but to think about her statement, while he struggles somewhat with her hands around his neck. “Who says I want to be loved?” He snaps.
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.
