// It's not enough that I'm running on empty
I had to go and run out while I had you in the car with me //
I had to go and run out while I had you in the car with me //
"Why did you come back Hotaru?" Like everything else that's left him, the words are pointed, wrapped in all the barbs and hurt Nate can muster. "Did you think it was going to be like last time? Or the time before that? Did you think you'd come back and we'd welcome you home again, into our lives and beds like you'd never been gone?" He can’t help being mean; if he takes a hot poker to his emotions, his soft spots, they can’t be used against him.
Confused anger tugs at Nate’s face, furrowing his brow and tugging the corners of his lips even further down. “How would Deimos have any idea what we were doing?” His cheeks bulge out with yet more anger ready to spew from his mouth when Sunjata cuts in mentally. There is still something him that is ashamed, something that he tries desperately to shut up. He distracts from it by dipping his hands into the glow of Sunjata’s rage, letting it rekindle his own and burn away the shadows of doubt and shame.
Hotaru shifts, something that is strange to see, new and uncomfortable and yet another reminder of the distance yawning between them. Distance that is doubled by the way Nate is cut from half the conversation suddenly, though it doesn’t stop him from stepping between Sunjata and Hotaru. Just in case.
A move that turns out to be wise on his part, though not for the reason he expects. Sunjata is the one to leap, Nate reaching out with two pairs of arms to drag the panther back, a sharp hiss in his mind. Don’t start anything He holds the other tightly, jaw working while he does.
“I’m beginning to think I never really knew what you wanted.” The words are soft, cold, in the face of all of there anger. Even this is still anger, wrapped up and frozen and left to thaw and ache over time. The sparks and conflagration return to him quickly, all the venom on her words only spurring Nate on. "I painted you? Far as I can see you're the only one holdin' a brush here." "Why did you even come back, if it was all so fucking conditional?"
Sunjata shifts back into himself, and Nate’s arms stay wrapped around him, not willing to risk anything at this point. Not willing to let the attuned make a mistake he wouldn’t let himself make. There are no words to respond to Hotaru’s accusations, about their lack of consequences, when hadn’t that been her departure? But Nate can’t even put words to that thought, not right now.
Confused anger tugs at Nate’s face, furrowing his brow and tugging the corners of his lips even further down. “How would Deimos have any idea what we were doing?” His cheeks bulge out with yet more anger ready to spew from his mouth when Sunjata cuts in mentally. There is still something him that is ashamed, something that he tries desperately to shut up. He distracts from it by dipping his hands into the glow of Sunjata’s rage, letting it rekindle his own and burn away the shadows of doubt and shame.
Hotaru shifts, something that is strange to see, new and uncomfortable and yet another reminder of the distance yawning between them. Distance that is doubled by the way Nate is cut from half the conversation suddenly, though it doesn’t stop him from stepping between Sunjata and Hotaru. Just in case.
A move that turns out to be wise on his part, though not for the reason he expects. Sunjata is the one to leap, Nate reaching out with two pairs of arms to drag the panther back, a sharp hiss in his mind. Don’t start anything He holds the other tightly, jaw working while he does.
“I’m beginning to think I never really knew what you wanted.” The words are soft, cold, in the face of all of there anger. Even this is still anger, wrapped up and frozen and left to thaw and ache over time. The sparks and conflagration return to him quickly, all the venom on her words only spurring Nate on. "I painted you? Far as I can see you're the only one holdin' a brush here." "Why did you even come back, if it was all so fucking conditional?"
Sunjata shifts back into himself, and Nate’s arms stay wrapped around him, not willing to risk anything at this point. Not willing to let the attuned make a mistake he wouldn’t let himself make. There are no words to respond to Hotaru’s accusations, about their lack of consequences, when hadn’t that been her departure? But Nate can’t even put words to that thought, not right now.
NATE
