and if you want, i could tell you the truth
that this life takes a toll on you. i spend nights
”It matters to me.” Did it? Or was it just yet another attempt that people took to try and shift him to what they thought was right, to tug and pull on all the different angles of him until he was unrecognizable. Perhaps he should forgo his human skin, slip into that of the orca and dive into the cold brisk sea of Halo to spend the rest of his days, hollowed and cold and alone where he couldn’t hurt anyone else, least of all himself. Perhaps he could simply sink to the bottom and drown himself with it, too.
Maybe then he’d be happy.
But she turns to him, catches his gaze, his darkness, and he knows that he can’t give her what she wants – he’d latched onto her because she’d been the first to give him attention despite the marriage, despite everything else, to see through the shadows and horns on full display and still not shy away. Intrigued, bright, a loreseeker’s mind beneath it that calculated and understood. And so he sighs, when she asks him if he intends to try and win the trust back.
’Yes.’ He wants to say. But he wants to do it as her friend, like they should have been at first before he’d wrapped her up in his arms, before her body had been against his and he couldn’t help himself but to kiss her. He can still feel her lips at his neck, soft and tentative and unknowing, and he clenches his teeth hard against it.
What did he want?
“I want to help you train. I want to be your friend. I want your trust.” He finally says. “But I can’t be anything more than that.” A line drawn in the sand as much as he dislikes it. Something he needs to keep to, a boundary he needs to keep. “I want to help those that want to learn to fight for themselves, so that nobody can take advantage of them again.” Like he’s being taken advantage of now. “I want the ocean, I want to pack up and leave and never look back when I find it.” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly with the use of it all. His gaze remains on her, waiting to see if she does stay, or if she keeps moving. He wouldn’t blame her if she did.
And there it is, what he’s always wanted to do. To fight for those that couldn’t fight for themselves, even if it meant being on the wrong side. The rebel, the defector, the self-defense, the only goal in his life is to help and thrive along the sands and salt waters somewhere, somewhere other than here.
Maybe then he’d be happy.
But she turns to him, catches his gaze, his darkness, and he knows that he can’t give her what she wants – he’d latched onto her because she’d been the first to give him attention despite the marriage, despite everything else, to see through the shadows and horns on full display and still not shy away. Intrigued, bright, a loreseeker’s mind beneath it that calculated and understood. And so he sighs, when she asks him if he intends to try and win the trust back.
’Yes.’ He wants to say. But he wants to do it as her friend, like they should have been at first before he’d wrapped her up in his arms, before her body had been against his and he couldn’t help himself but to kiss her. He can still feel her lips at his neck, soft and tentative and unknowing, and he clenches his teeth hard against it.
What did he want?
“I want to help you train. I want to be your friend. I want your trust.” He finally says. “But I can’t be anything more than that.” A line drawn in the sand as much as he dislikes it. Something he needs to keep to, a boundary he needs to keep. “I want to help those that want to learn to fight for themselves, so that nobody can take advantage of them again.” Like he’s being taken advantage of now. “I want the ocean, I want to pack up and leave and never look back when I find it.” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly with the use of it all. His gaze remains on her, waiting to see if she does stay, or if she keeps moving. He wouldn’t blame her if she did.
And there it is, what he’s always wanted to do. To fight for those that couldn’t fight for themselves, even if it meant being on the wrong side. The rebel, the defector, the self-defense, the only goal in his life is to help and thrive along the sands and salt waters somewhere, somewhere other than here.
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.
