there's a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly
I know you do. I know, I promise I do. For a breath, everything is perfect, bright. For a breath, he can forget everything that’s happened in the last two weeks, and he can simply be here. Unlike every other breath he takes though, Nate has to let this one go, has to let his mind slip to injuries instead.
Nate hums, let’s his fingers drift over Sunjata’s lips. Considers, for a moment, opening his mouth to look anyway, and decides in the same moment that that would be a little bit much. Maybe when they go upstairs. I’m glad she took care of you. His other hand drifts down along his husbands side, fingers sneaking up his shirt to press gently against the bandage there. An examination is not usually based on tocuh only, but in the interest of not pulling away from Sunjata any more, Nate makes an exception.
There’s a pulse of betrayal when his hand is grabbed, lifted, hiding a deep, mental flinch. It’s a small mercy that his wrists are the only place that show the actual marks of his captivity. If the muzzle had left something, Nate isn’t sure he’d be able to show his face ever again. Just because they’re preferable doesn’t mean they’re better though, Nate glancing away and letting a soft It’s fine. rush from him. The scars themselves tell a different story, thick and uneven, biting in where he’d pulled with all his strength, when he’d had it.
Nate hums, let’s his fingers drift over Sunjata’s lips. Considers, for a moment, opening his mouth to look anyway, and decides in the same moment that that would be a little bit much. Maybe when they go upstairs. I’m glad she took care of you. His other hand drifts down along his husbands side, fingers sneaking up his shirt to press gently against the bandage there. An examination is not usually based on tocuh only, but in the interest of not pulling away from Sunjata any more, Nate makes an exception.
There’s a pulse of betrayal when his hand is grabbed, lifted, hiding a deep, mental flinch. It’s a small mercy that his wrists are the only place that show the actual marks of his captivity. If the muzzle had left something, Nate isn’t sure he’d be able to show his face ever again. Just because they’re preferable doesn’t mean they’re better though, Nate glancing away and letting a soft It’s fine. rush from him. The scars themselves tell a different story, thick and uneven, biting in where he’d pulled with all his strength, when he’d had it.
NATE
