SuNJATA
the flood
Perhaps there’s a part of him that wishes she doesn’t answer, to not place this burden onto her, of the news and knowledge he has of why he’s slid so far down a slope he’d carefully crafted up over years and years, to have it ripped from him again. But there’s that other part, that finds relief as soon as he can hear the door click, hear it slide open, to let his shadowed silver eyes scan over her shorter form as she greets him. “Hotaru.” He replies back, flatly, a quiet nod given. No teases, no tricks, no humor beneath the words. Just flat.
She moves aside and beckons him to enter, and he does, running off of autopilot at this point – though his steel gaze does drift around the room she guides him into, waiting to respond to her inquiry until the words can accurately form on his tongue. He’s said it so much it seems like, and yet not enough. Not enough for people close to him to get the picture. Phoebe knows, Loren knows, Melita doesn’t yet and he’s not sure how to break the news to the small fiery haired girl. He’s not sure how to break the news to himself again and again either, but it remains on his mind.
She sits, and he takes the seat opposite of her, shedding his jacket and settling in, elbows resting on his knees as he reaches up with a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t bother you, I’m sorry.” He says at first, getting it out of the way as he still has the strength to do it. As the words still form on his tongue, while he’s bold enough to be able to say it without his deep voice cracking over the statement.
“She’s gone.” He says at first, realizing again it’s not quite enough information, like when he’d told Loren. Everyone knew she was gone, she was missing, but this was different. “Lusea's dead. Again.” Perhaps the again won’t make much sense, he can’t remember with the fog of his mind, if he’d told her of his lover resurrected from the dead, only to be taken so swift, so quickly once more.
His eyes lift to focus on her, his hand dropping to the space between his legs, wringing his wrists. He doesn’t know what else to say, what else he can say before his voice grows far throatier, heavier, deeper with the emotions roiling through him. How it should have been him so she could live a second life.
She moves aside and beckons him to enter, and he does, running off of autopilot at this point – though his steel gaze does drift around the room she guides him into, waiting to respond to her inquiry until the words can accurately form on his tongue. He’s said it so much it seems like, and yet not enough. Not enough for people close to him to get the picture. Phoebe knows, Loren knows, Melita doesn’t yet and he’s not sure how to break the news to the small fiery haired girl. He’s not sure how to break the news to himself again and again either, but it remains on his mind.
She sits, and he takes the seat opposite of her, shedding his jacket and settling in, elbows resting on his knees as he reaches up with a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t bother you, I’m sorry.” He says at first, getting it out of the way as he still has the strength to do it. As the words still form on his tongue, while he’s bold enough to be able to say it without his deep voice cracking over the statement.
“She’s gone.” He says at first, realizing again it’s not quite enough information, like when he’d told Loren. Everyone knew she was gone, she was missing, but this was different. “Lusea's dead. Again.” Perhaps the again won’t make much sense, he can’t remember with the fog of his mind, if he’d told her of his lover resurrected from the dead, only to be taken so swift, so quickly once more.
His eyes lift to focus on her, his hand dropping to the space between his legs, wringing his wrists. He doesn’t know what else to say, what else he can say before his voice grows far throatier, heavier, deeper with the emotions roiling through him. How it should have been him so she could live a second life.
love will save you, but it won't save me
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
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.
