now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
He’s surprised somewhat as he surprises her – catching those honey brown eyes as they grow wide, eyebrows go high, and he lets his settle as he focuses on her further – eyes narrowing ever so slightly. What was it about? It was about the fact that he should be doing something else other than sitting here and drinking, that he should be doing something else other than avoiding dealing with the inevitable. But he’d always been terrible about it, wallowing in his own self-destructive behaviors, addictive tendencies that seemed to constantly make things worse.
He appreciated it regardless, the karma of dealing with the shit that he’d done coming back to bite him in the end.
She asks why not, and his jaw clenches slightly. “Because.” He starts, uncertain how to finish it with the dull pain in the back of his mind. “All I’ve done is drink and sleep.” His gaze tears from her to look out over the light filtering through the windows along the blinds. Drink, sleep, repeat. Over and over again with the occasional different bed slept in on varying nights. And she tells him that she’s there to help him, and he can’t figure out how or why she would want to, not with the things he’d done, the distance they were supposed to keep, the promise he had made.
He sighs, defeated, hand running through his hair before it rests on the back of his neck, gaze lingering on the floor and the space between them. “Why do you want to help me?” He utters quietly, eyes closing tight as he focuses on staying strong. “Why do all of this?” Likely because she still cares, but his mind doesn’t go there – his mind goes back to his old defenses, of walls and masks put into place, of hardening those sharp edges to refrain from opening up and being hurt again.
He appreciated it regardless, the karma of dealing with the shit that he’d done coming back to bite him in the end.
She asks why not, and his jaw clenches slightly. “Because.” He starts, uncertain how to finish it with the dull pain in the back of his mind. “All I’ve done is drink and sleep.” His gaze tears from her to look out over the light filtering through the windows along the blinds. Drink, sleep, repeat. Over and over again with the occasional different bed slept in on varying nights. And she tells him that she’s there to help him, and he can’t figure out how or why she would want to, not with the things he’d done, the distance they were supposed to keep, the promise he had made.
He sighs, defeated, hand running through his hair before it rests on the back of his neck, gaze lingering on the floor and the space between them. “Why do you want to help me?” He utters quietly, eyes closing tight as he focuses on staying strong. “Why do all of this?” Likely because she still cares, but his mind doesn’t go there – his mind goes back to his old defenses, of walls and masks put into place, of hardening those sharp edges to refrain from opening up and being hurt again.
but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?
i am the way and the life in the best looking truth
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.
