i don’t feel it

SUNJATA

the flood

The blur of the dream begins to fade away and Sunjata can’t quite recall the whole process of making the pancakes. But what he can figure out, is that as he glances to Ronin the view looks oddly familiar – standing in his kitchen, things of his own around the room, and Ronin standing there in his usual garb, making pancakes. It’s enough to warm him up inside, though he can’t remember why now, and he nearly misses what Ronin mentions about the whiskey.

“Sorry, what?” He asks, his gaze clearing up a bit as he focuses on Ronin and the clear shot glass handed to him. He takes it, instinctively, in a scarred hand spiderwebbed with lightning, flashing a wide grin to Ronin. “Oh, yeah, probably true.” He agrees with a slightly awkward chuckle, moving to take the shot and let it burn down his throat.

And it burns, against his parched and dry throat, melding and melting against his insides that feels much like an alcohol burn – so much so he coughs, squints at it, squints at Ronin before jutting the shot glass out for another shot. And it goes like this for a bit, while they make pancakes together, and Sunjata never quite fully ends up remembering or figuring out the fact Ronin had also been there in his dream.

- FIN <3

hard drugs, fake love; it's a sensation
makes one hell of a collaboration