now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat
it's a bearable bruise on your conscious
He agrees with her, that it was a fitting tribute, a fitting name. It rolled off of his tongue easily enough, and even Phoebe had managed to say it almost flawlessly with the knowledge she had of his language. With time, given time, it shouldn’t be a problem. But he stills soon after as her eyes flick to hers, a dark brow lifting as she comments that she knows he’s not heartless. Good. He might want to come off as it at times, but that didn’t mean he absolutely was.
But her question gives him pause, and he focuses on her face again as he thinks of how to answer. He doesn’t know what to think about the child with Emmett, but there’s a part of him that does think about the possibility of the child with Phoebe, about what life would have been like had they been born. But he doesn’t know exactly how to say it, and so he inhales deeply, breathing in the peppermint and lavender and sighs quietly. “Things would be very different. But there are times, yes, where I think about them.” He offers quietly. “I say I’d make a terrible father, but I doubt I would in comparison to my own.” An honest answer, a half crooked smile crossing his face at that.
“Sometimes I do miss what we missed out on.” But that didn’t mean he wanted to do it again. It didn’t mean that he wanted to open up to it with the way things were now. He had become so careful since then, so careful, in order to prevent it from happening. “And I’m sorry that it happened to you again.” She hadn’t deserved it, in the end. However much he probably did, she didn’t in his eyes.
A small quiet nod is given to her in response to her offer of help, unsure of what she could do but filing it away for later, a just in case.
But her question gives him pause, and he focuses on her face again as he thinks of how to answer. He doesn’t know what to think about the child with Emmett, but there’s a part of him that does think about the possibility of the child with Phoebe, about what life would have been like had they been born. But he doesn’t know exactly how to say it, and so he inhales deeply, breathing in the peppermint and lavender and sighs quietly. “Things would be very different. But there are times, yes, where I think about them.” He offers quietly. “I say I’d make a terrible father, but I doubt I would in comparison to my own.” An honest answer, a half crooked smile crossing his face at that.
“Sometimes I do miss what we missed out on.” But that didn’t mean he wanted to do it again. It didn’t mean that he wanted to open up to it with the way things were now. He had become so careful since then, so careful, in order to prevent it from happening. “And I’m sorry that it happened to you again.” She hadn’t deserved it, in the end. However much he probably did, she didn’t in his eyes.
A small quiet nod is given to her in response to her offer of help, unsure of what she could do but filing it away for later, a just in case.
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.
