(SE) when the nighttime comes, say yes

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

He doesn’t see anyone as he looks to her. He sees her, the pale hair and the pale face, sunburned slightly with the reflection and heat of the water, the way his horned shadow warps on the curves of her face, those wary and uncertain pale eyes that find him as his own reflect nothing short of a softness, of trust, of friendship with the hint of not slipping away should she wish to drift closer. The waves continue to brush along his back, and it’s a steady rhythm as he listens to her speak, fingertips still sweeping gently along her arm until he finds her shoulder again.

“I can.” He rumbles to her, offering her a gentle smile. “I broke a few before I got the one I have now. It’s just a matter of finding out what works best for you, and how much of a tension to the bow string there is.” He explains easily, shifting his leg slightly beneath the water, to continue to prop himself up enough to be that anchor for her.

That is, until something cold and slick slides into his lower back with a bit of force, pushing him toward her as he grips onto her to not lose her among the slight drift. There’s a hint of surprise on his face, one hand slipping to her waist — high enough to not make any moves of the sort — before he lowers his head into the water fully once more to see what it was that had run into him. He rises from it to shake his head, brush the water from his eyes and push his hair back again as the horns continue to drip water, and he rolls his eyes as he looks back to her. “Seems like the trout are swimming on.” He rumbles with some small amount of amusement, close enough now to see the red patches on her cheeks.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me