hold me like we're dying from the liquor that we drank

SUNJATA

the flood

all the drinkin' and the druggin' and the black and the red
the achy skin and all the sweat in my bed

There’s confusion at the mention of sharing a cake – before Sunjata remembers that Nate shared a birthday, something that was uncommon in Korofi when it came to siblings. Parents and children? Sure. But that was different – birthdays rarely celebrated when you were noble born, if only for part of the whole ‘don’t get attached’ bit that his mother had been poor at. He’s glad of it though, and he shifts a bit as Nate slips in beside him – turning to face his fiancé with a boyish smile that crosses his face. “I don’t know how to cook.” Or bake for that matter.

But that seems hardly relevant now, especially as Nate’s speaking again – a hum of a laugh leaving Sunjata at the mention of getting fucked up. A nod to that, because gods how he’d done the same. At the mention of fries though, there’s a nostalgic groan that leaves him, mouth watering with the thought. “I miss fries.”

Nate’s laughing again and Sunjata can’t quite figure out why, gaze trying to focus on him as soon as it leaves him, an amused grin spreading across Sunjata’s face at the smug pride that leaves his lover, eyes squinting closed at the peppering of kisses and raspberries, snickers leaving him as he shakes his head. “That's weird. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen your blood and it’s not made of pasta.” But he still gives Nate a mischievous look as if it were and he was just blind.

Favorites, though? His brows furrow as he thinks long and hard. “Any sauce is good...” He murmurs softly, before his gaze focuses finally and a toothy crooked smile breaks like sunlight across his face. “I like the ones that look like little bowties.” His brows wiggle, his free hand coming up as if he’s miming wearing one. "I actually really liked wearing bowties. Maybe that's why."

i think i'm losin' too much
but there's just never enough