NATE
The walk home has never felt so long. Nate has never been so aware of every step, every uneven patch of ground. It's all he can do to keep steady, to be something strong for Sunjata to cling to. He somehow even manages to talk the entire time they walk, nonsense stories about his long days in Halo, the Climb. The disappointment of not being able to fully complete the tasks he'd set out to do. Stories about benign fuck ups from his youth. Whatever came to mind without thought.
Despite how long it took, Nate seemed surprised as they crossed the threshold of their property, his hand searching through his pockets first, then through Sunjata's to find the key. There is a part of him that pauses, though he knows he shouldn't, to lock the door behind him, checking it once, twice, before focusing once more on the interior of the house, dim starlight growing brighter as Pemota makes her way through the halls to lead them deeper inside, upstairs and to the bedroom.
Haai already waits in their room, on the bed as if she's waiting to receive her bonded, waiting to take over for Nate. I'll be right back. He promises easily, unwillingly leaving his husband alone with their companions, wreathed in starlight that almost makes the bruising look better. He makes as much noise as he can, moving through the house. The clatter of a box being set down on the counter, of cupboards opening and things being moved around. There is only a single beat of silence, a beat where Nate stops to stare out the window, at the endless expanse of the sea and the path that leads to their home, half expecting to see a procession of shadows creeping towards them.
Gods know that's how it felt.
The sound of quick feet thundering back up the stairs comes before long, a pitcher with some kind of iced juice clutched in one of the ascended's hands, and a basket with various cloths and bottles in the other, both set on the bedside table as he sits on the bed. A smile is spread across Nate's face like too cold butter on soft bread, but his hand is steady when it reaches out, brushing hair away from Sunjata's face just for the excuse to touch him. "How are you feeling sonskyn?"
Despite how long it took, Nate seemed surprised as they crossed the threshold of their property, his hand searching through his pockets first, then through Sunjata's to find the key. There is a part of him that pauses, though he knows he shouldn't, to lock the door behind him, checking it once, twice, before focusing once more on the interior of the house, dim starlight growing brighter as Pemota makes her way through the halls to lead them deeper inside, upstairs and to the bedroom.
Haai already waits in their room, on the bed as if she's waiting to receive her bonded, waiting to take over for Nate. I'll be right back. He promises easily, unwillingly leaving his husband alone with their companions, wreathed in starlight that almost makes the bruising look better. He makes as much noise as he can, moving through the house. The clatter of a box being set down on the counter, of cupboards opening and things being moved around. There is only a single beat of silence, a beat where Nate stops to stare out the window, at the endless expanse of the sea and the path that leads to their home, half expecting to see a procession of shadows creeping towards them.
Gods know that's how it felt.
The sound of quick feet thundering back up the stairs comes before long, a pitcher with some kind of iced juice clutched in one of the ascended's hands, and a basket with various cloths and bottles in the other, both set on the bedside table as he sits on the bed. A smile is spread across Nate's face like too cold butter on soft bread, but his hand is steady when it reaches out, brushing hair away from Sunjata's face just for the excuse to touch him. "How are you feeling sonskyn?"
Deep down, it hurts to know
How bad I wanna call it quits
How bad I wanna call it quits
