We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick
His jaw snaps shut with the shushing, at least for a few seconds while he, too, processes it. But when he speaks next, saying the only thing that comes to mind, he can feel those frozen fingers move slightly, a slumping of Nate’s shoulders when the Ascended speaks again. He works his jaw beneath both of their hands, breathing in a slow, deep breath, before the warmth exhales around cool fingers.
“Because it happened to me too.” He admits, though it isn’t something that’s a secret. Nate knew, he was the one that pulled Sunjata away from the edge that he stood upon, thinking it was his fault when it wasn’t. Thinking he’d been a failure. But something about this doesn’t seem to suggest to the Flood that his husband wanted reasonability. And if nothing else, Sunjata can certainly be there for the emotional waves that come, keeping solutions or explanations to himself until Nate’s ready to hear them.
His hands move when Nate slumps in, when he feels the chill of his husband’s face press against his warm, scarred neck. Fingers thread through wet, snow-melted curls, his head tilting slightly to press against him in a little sideways embrace, leaning back that much more. “You didn’t hartlam.” He agrees, just as he himself had done nothing wrong when Frey didn’t answer.
“Come here,” he hums, moving the chair back slightly to try and manhandle Nate into sitting with him, keeping his eyes closed as he does so, though it’s difficult to do given Nate’s size and strength over him.
“Because it happened to me too.” He admits, though it isn’t something that’s a secret. Nate knew, he was the one that pulled Sunjata away from the edge that he stood upon, thinking it was his fault when it wasn’t. Thinking he’d been a failure. But something about this doesn’t seem to suggest to the Flood that his husband wanted reasonability. And if nothing else, Sunjata can certainly be there for the emotional waves that come, keeping solutions or explanations to himself until Nate’s ready to hear them.
His hands move when Nate slumps in, when he feels the chill of his husband’s face press against his warm, scarred neck. Fingers thread through wet, snow-melted curls, his head tilting slightly to press against him in a little sideways embrace, leaning back that much more. “You didn’t hartlam.” He agrees, just as he himself had done nothing wrong when Frey didn’t answer.
“Come here,” he hums, moving the chair back slightly to try and manhandle Nate into sitting with him, keeping his eyes closed as he does so, though it’s difficult to do given Nate’s size and strength over him.
the flood
Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end
totally sniped from odd ilu
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.
