and if you want, i could tell you the truth
that this life takes a toll on you. i spend nights
He pauses in his own frustration, his own spiraling as she begins to speak, a wounded whisper that he can hear vividly with the earring in his ear, as though she’s speaking to him directly, and he clenches his teeth again with a muscle feathering in his jaw as he lifts his bow once more and focuses on the target, hastily as he inhales a rough shaking breath. “I don’t care who you tell.” He tells her, and while he does… well, perhaps dealing with the consequences would be easier in the end rather than dealing with them up front. He watches the arrow miss by a hair once more, slipping past where the dummy’s ear would have been.
But she continues, and he shakes his head to that, slinging the bow over his shoulder as he steps over to her then, hearing her shatter and break in her words alone. “You aren’t though. It’s me.” He tells her, shadowed gaze at her back, he’s always been the problem, the one thing in common with everything that’s fallen apart in his life was with his direct involvement. “You’re worth so much, Maea. And I’m sorry I ruined it for you.” The apology is open, hoarse, broken as he is. He doesn’t care if she knows secrets and history of him that nobody else does, if she takes it to ruin him. In fact, he’d probably deserve it for what he’s done. And yet he can’t find the words to say it.
He approaches her then, slowly, reaching down to lift her bow. “Again.” A softer request this time.
But she continues, and he shakes his head to that, slinging the bow over his shoulder as he steps over to her then, hearing her shatter and break in her words alone. “You aren’t though. It’s me.” He tells her, shadowed gaze at her back, he’s always been the problem, the one thing in common with everything that’s fallen apart in his life was with his direct involvement. “You’re worth so much, Maea. And I’m sorry I ruined it for you.” The apology is open, hoarse, broken as he is. He doesn’t care if she knows secrets and history of him that nobody else does, if she takes it to ruin him. In fact, he’d probably deserve it for what he’s done. And yet he can’t find the words to say it.
He approaches her then, slowly, reaching down to lift her bow. “Again.” A softer request this time.
stitching up the loose threads of my soul
so in the morning i'm bullet proof
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.
