i can't quite tell you how it hurt me, but my god
He’s always been bad at it – keeping his face hidden unless he was falling behind that Korofi mask of his. Perhaps it was time to dust it off, to pretend it doesn’t matter when it did. To follow with Nate’s advice in letting his mind wrap pluck the names of those that had stated such things, filtering them away in the file cabinet of his mind (damaged as it might be at the moment).
The subject turns to teenage dramatics, however, and Sunjata’s continual faltering with that too. Having not experienced it, he has little to go off of. All he knows is that he can treat it differently than his father had – instead of forcing a relationship between them, Sunjata could be patient. He could wait. He could do exactly what Nate says. So it’s a low rumble of a “just wait and see.” He finishes the sentence with ease, leaning into the lips pressed to his head.
His nickname pulls him out of the darker waters he’s floundering in, his head lifting a fraction, eyes still shut as he feels his husband’s cool forehead press against his own, as he feels the dark curls scrape across his freckled, sunkissed skin. It takes him a few moments before he opens his steel, but he does. He isn’t sure if Nate’s words are a balm or a burn, though. How long has he been like this? It feels like a shifting notion where some months are better and he thinks that he’s gotten better since they’d left Torchline.
But… Perhaps that’s not what Nate means, and he scans the blurry lines of Nate’s vibrant blues, the little hues of white electricity that spark out from under his skin where they touch. “I’m beginning to realize that it really is just us.” He should have learned it sooner, but here he was hanging onto hope. He nudges his head up, pressing his lips to the corner of his husband’s lips, his arms tightening around him. “I love you.” He murmurs gently, a whisper just between them.
The subject turns to teenage dramatics, however, and Sunjata’s continual faltering with that too. Having not experienced it, he has little to go off of. All he knows is that he can treat it differently than his father had – instead of forcing a relationship between them, Sunjata could be patient. He could wait. He could do exactly what Nate says. So it’s a low rumble of a “just wait and see.” He finishes the sentence with ease, leaning into the lips pressed to his head.
His nickname pulls him out of the darker waters he’s floundering in, his head lifting a fraction, eyes still shut as he feels his husband’s cool forehead press against his own, as he feels the dark curls scrape across his freckled, sunkissed skin. It takes him a few moments before he opens his steel, but he does. He isn’t sure if Nate’s words are a balm or a burn, though. How long has he been like this? It feels like a shifting notion where some months are better and he thinks that he’s gotten better since they’d left Torchline.
But… Perhaps that’s not what Nate means, and he scans the blurry lines of Nate’s vibrant blues, the little hues of white electricity that spark out from under his skin where they touch. “I’m beginning to realize that it really is just us.” He should have learned it sooner, but here he was hanging onto hope. He nudges his head up, pressing his lips to the corner of his husband’s lips, his arms tightening around him. “I love you.” He murmurs gently, a whisper just between them.
how it still aches today
SuNJATA
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.
