NATE
There is a terrible sadness in Nate’s eye when searches for the steel after the words, and maybe worse, a terrible gentleness. ”Getting used to it is still different than liking it.” One was better, though he wouldn’t be able to explain it at the moment, an argument too much for him. His head tilts, leaning against the fingers in his hair.
An easy nod bobs Nate’s head, agreeing at first, but then just because it feels fun, his hair moving around his face, despite how sticky it was with fluid. ”I liked being higher.” And that’s not only paranoia talking, but practicality too. Now that they’d seen the monsoon season, it seemed smart to build a house where it wouldn’t be in danger of flooding. ”We can do the beach too.” The same thought runs through Nate’s mind, how that should be easy, unless they build in the jungle, which, why would they ever?
Nate’s patient as can be, humming some soft, should be faster tune while he waits for a question to answer. He leans in gently, brushing his nose against Sunjata’s, a warm smile spread over his lips, though it drops quickly, Nate’s brows pulling together as the question was voiced. He pulls back slowly, searching the other mans face, some part of him agreeing to the point about Sunjata’s father. That’s a man he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt. But his own? He’d already hesitated so many times, it was hard to tell what he wanted.
”I’d...” Nate doesn’t know, genuinely doesn’t know. There is a part of him that wants to agree, that wants to give into the simple anger, and if it were only anger there then maybe he could. But it isn’t. He swallows unsteadily, and lets his eye fall away from Sunjata’s face, staring at a spot on the bed that just seems to get darker and darker the longer he looks, despite knowing they’re safe here. ”I think I’d... want to show off everything I’ve done. I... turned out better than he ever did, and I’d want him to admit it.”
Nate’s head turns again, this time to press into the crook of Sunjata’s neck, soft kisses pressed against the scars there. His mouth aches more than it waters, but something stops him, keeps his teeth behind his lips. ”If you could... forget, or... undo one thing that you did, what would it be?” It’s still dark, he knows it’s going to be, the way they both hold onto regrets, the lives they’ve lived.
the last ones here on earth
