(SE) a whisper in our ear, or a bottle for our fears

you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling

It’s so hard to be angry. So hard, and yet not at all. Nate doesn’t know what he wants, doesn’t know what Sunjata should be doing, but this isn’t it. This isn’t what he wants. Whatever they’re doing right now. Whatever conversation they’re about to have. It doesn’t undo what Sunjata’s done.

A deep sigh leaves Nate, his hands dropping away and clenching at his sides. ”That is a lot of very good reasons for me to be angry.” His voice is just as soft, sharp underneath the velvet purr. Nate doesn’t move, doesn’t look away from Sunjata. ”And I am. I think I will be for a while.” Theres a but, hiding around the corner, so obvious that he doesn’t bother saying it.

”You made me a stranger in my own home.” All at once, that sharpness rears its ugly head, anger replacing sorrow in an instant. ”I can’t trust you with anything anymore. I can’t tell you where I’m going, I can’t tell you what I’m doing, none of it. Not until this fucking war is over.” Not until there’s no chance it will get back to Safrin. Nate already carries enough on his shoulders, and now there’s no alleviation.

& you're trembling and he reaches over

and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist

NATE