Hotaru
My head's a burial ground of your memory
Her newly acquired perch on the counter only intensifies the easy way the home seems to open up and slot her into place. Where she had feared feeling replaced, forgotten, there is instead only a sense of belonging. Or perhaps that's just her tired mind conjuring up sensation to soften the blow of what's yet to come. But now isn't the time for her trademark pessimism. Sunjata is warm and solid behind her, his kiss like benediction lost between the golden strands of her hair. Hotaru presses into his chest, scars and ink both old and familiar alike a canvas of comfort that she is happy to sink into. Even so her eyes trail after Nate, and though she's not privy to the bond the two share she still knows. But she can't go to him, knows he needs a moment to collect himself in the same way she does. They're kindred spirits in that way, and no matter how she may personally long to reach out and bring him into her arms where he belongs, she won't steal this steadying moment from him. Her nose wrinkles slightly at the smell of cigarettes, but it smooths out in the next moment as a brightly furred kitten crawls precociously into her lap. As if she could ever resist petting and coddling such an adorable creature. It gives her hands something to do, a distraction that helps calm her mind and settle her thoughts. The tiny, budding purr helps keep her tied to her body when she hears that she'd missed their wedding. Pain and regret seem such feeble words for what breaks loose in her chest. But there is no blame, and after a moment she forces her head up to ensure they can see that clearly in her eyes. "Nate has always been the planner," she agrees with a crooked smile. Forgiveness, if they dare to think they are in need of it, all for the taking in her expression. Apologies and commentary can wait for the rest of the explanation, which comes on Sunjata's husky tone. She's sure he could talk her into falling asleep there on the counter, given a bit more time.
"I remember coming home after...after Kia-" her voice breaks on the name, and she swallows hard. The grief is still so fresh, with all the time that has been stolen from her. "But the heat never seemed to go away even after returning. I remember trying to get to the water, and then I just...woke up somewhere entirely different." The faraway look to her gaze muddles further as she tries and fails to conjure up something more. Something tangible to give these two men who deserve more than her forgetfulness as a reasoning. "Atlas had been taking care of me. Shepherding me, I suppose. He carried me back here, and that's all I know." Pale fingers curl in the kitten's russet fur, careful not to tug despite how badly her hands desire to clench at the unfairness of it all.
The smell of food stirs her from her frustrations. Sunjata remains close, and she brushes a bare ankle idly against his knee, needing some form of touch after months without it. Starved for contact, for familiarity. Nate will orbit back as he always does, she won't rush him. Even so her words reach out, a lasso to pull him back. "It's not your fault, if that's what you're thinking. My stupid boys," she admonishes fondly, heart so full of aching love that her hand drifts upwards as if to claw it free and present it to them to win their forgiveness for herself. "If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I swear that nothing could have convinced me in my right mind to leave you. To miss so much. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm -" her voice breaks high into silence, and the tears come swift and unexpected. There isn't even time to sob, liquid spilling over in an abrupt release of emotions - relief, regret, exhaustion. Hotaru lifts a hand to brush them away harshly, trembling lips scowling down at the tears on her hand. "I love you. And I hope..." you still love me too. But Hotaru is a coward, too afraid of her own emotions to be so vulnerable even with them, and the words remain unspoken.
