SUNJATA
the flood
i can still see your face looking back through the flames
and i search it, was it worth it?
and i search it, was it worth it?
It was so reminiscent of home, the blackberry, the pie, the stolen bites in a kitchen before hiding away. Only, usually, it was his birthday when his mother would surprise him with it – a sneaked plate brought to his room in the early morning for him to wake up to. She often had to be secretive about it, though as Sunjata’d gotten older, he realizes that his father had to have known she’d loved him more than what his father had wanted her to.
But then it left these memories, brought back by warm blackberry pie in a completely different world. And it’s all worth it.
The kiss doesn’t last long, Sunjata all but guiding Nate toward the upstairs, toward the gift that still sits splayed out in places, but mostly put together. Enough to play, though the room wasn’t exactly how he wanted it. There’s still a bench, however, tucked underneath it as Sunjata pauses by the entryway, watching as his husband breaks away.
He can’t help but to keep the soft smile on his face, deciding to lean against the door instead, to watch as Nate slips further in and presses a single key that rings out, echoing around the room that’s almost captivating. The warmth and love is spread down the bond and Sunjata steps forward then, his smile growing brighter, bigger, wider, a snort leaving him at the joke. And he thinks he could be official about it, but he steps closer to Nate and wraps an arm around his husband’s hip, pulling him in to press a kiss to his cheek with a soft smirk. “Course I am.” He mimics his husband’s accent the best he can, before he’s offering a laugh and slipping away to sink into the bench.
“I didn’t exactly have time to warm up before you got home… So…” He trails off, sucking in a breath, running his fingers along the keys without touching them, placing his feet in the correct spaces above the pedals. “I played this one for an entire year when I was twelve, just to get it right.” His gaze lifts to Nate then, a bit of a sheepish smile on his face – prolonging it out so he doesn’t make a fool of himself. But he knows better. He knows this song, even if he’s sure his memory has fogged in places. Muscle memory should cover the details, right?
And so he begins, slowly at first, gently at first, and it comes rushing back to him as he plays – focused on the keys until his gaze lifts again to his husband’s face, searching for a reaction.
But then it left these memories, brought back by warm blackberry pie in a completely different world. And it’s all worth it.
The kiss doesn’t last long, Sunjata all but guiding Nate toward the upstairs, toward the gift that still sits splayed out in places, but mostly put together. Enough to play, though the room wasn’t exactly how he wanted it. There’s still a bench, however, tucked underneath it as Sunjata pauses by the entryway, watching as his husband breaks away.
He can’t help but to keep the soft smile on his face, deciding to lean against the door instead, to watch as Nate slips further in and presses a single key that rings out, echoing around the room that’s almost captivating. The warmth and love is spread down the bond and Sunjata steps forward then, his smile growing brighter, bigger, wider, a snort leaving him at the joke. And he thinks he could be official about it, but he steps closer to Nate and wraps an arm around his husband’s hip, pulling him in to press a kiss to his cheek with a soft smirk. “Course I am.” He mimics his husband’s accent the best he can, before he’s offering a laugh and slipping away to sink into the bench.
“I didn’t exactly have time to warm up before you got home… So…” He trails off, sucking in a breath, running his fingers along the keys without touching them, placing his feet in the correct spaces above the pedals. “I played this one for an entire year when I was twelve, just to get it right.” His gaze lifts to Nate then, a bit of a sheepish smile on his face – prolonging it out so he doesn’t make a fool of himself. But he knows better. He knows this song, even if he’s sure his memory has fogged in places. Muscle memory should cover the details, right?
And so he begins, slowly at first, gently at first, and it comes rushing back to him as he plays – focused on the keys until his gaze lifts again to his husband’s face, searching for a reaction.
no i don't mind the smoke, but your tears make me choke
are you okay? should i go away?
are you okay? should i go away?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
