SuNjATA
the flood
“I don’t particularly want to find out.” He offers quietly, gaze avoiding her own as he lifts her hand to where he could better see the wound. The blood itself begins to flow like a silent river, pulsing and thundering, and he swallows somewhat hard against it and the redness to her arms from where the ropes had been. Placing part of the cleaning cloth over her wrist, he holds it down to absorb the blood, applying a decent amount of pressure to keep it from bleeding, before he reaches down to grab a piece of the rope she’d cut off to tie around her upper arm to stop the bleeding so he could clean it up.
He doesn’t look at her when she speaks, too focused on the pale hand within his rough calloused ones, the remnants of blood and redness lingering. And he can hear it in the way that she speaks, the recollection of Hotaru saying something similar. He clenches his jaw with a quiet sigh that passes through his nose as he tenderly uses the clean edges of the cloth to clean up the blood around it, imagining it won’t need stitches – which thank the gods, because he’d never been one to figure that out. Lusea had always stitched him up after a brawl, he had the scars to prove it.
“I think it was meant to be a gift, that we were going to try.” He shrugs, keeping his gaze on her wrist while she looks to his own. “And yeah, I said I was going to try, but it’s…” He pauses to shake his head a little bit, an almost sad laugh leaving him at that. “It might have worked once. Before everything. Not anymore.” He refrains from mentioning how Frey had also let Phoebe know that she’d miscarried his child, deciding it’s better left unsaid.
But he finally does manage to look at her, once he’s tied the bandage up around her wrist with enough padding to let it clot and still not quite bleed all the way through. He reaches up with featherlight fingers to untie the rope around her upper arm, pulling lightly up on the pressure to not get her wrist to throb so terribly. “Lusea and I made a pact in Korofi, that we’d never marry because of what it meant. It'd been shoved down my throat that I'd have some arranged marriage to better ties within the family if I lived past my seventeenth birthday. Lusea and I also agreed that we'd never have children, too, because Korofi was hard as hell to grow up in. And it was a dream to have someone wanting such things, especially there. I’d grown used to it, not marrying, not ever thinking about having to be a father, just enjoying each other and nothing more.” A small shrug granted. “Ten years later and I still don’t want that. But I conceded all of it to Phoebe, because I wanted to help her.” The insanity of his agreement of marrying her, giving her his protection, giving her children if she wanted it. And just like what he told her before, he reiterates here. “Miserable together is better than miserable alone. Though according to her I’m going out of my way to make her more miserable.”
He doesn’t look at her when she speaks, too focused on the pale hand within his rough calloused ones, the remnants of blood and redness lingering. And he can hear it in the way that she speaks, the recollection of Hotaru saying something similar. He clenches his jaw with a quiet sigh that passes through his nose as he tenderly uses the clean edges of the cloth to clean up the blood around it, imagining it won’t need stitches – which thank the gods, because he’d never been one to figure that out. Lusea had always stitched him up after a brawl, he had the scars to prove it.
“I think it was meant to be a gift, that we were going to try.” He shrugs, keeping his gaze on her wrist while she looks to his own. “And yeah, I said I was going to try, but it’s…” He pauses to shake his head a little bit, an almost sad laugh leaving him at that. “It might have worked once. Before everything. Not anymore.” He refrains from mentioning how Frey had also let Phoebe know that she’d miscarried his child, deciding it’s better left unsaid.
But he finally does manage to look at her, once he’s tied the bandage up around her wrist with enough padding to let it clot and still not quite bleed all the way through. He reaches up with featherlight fingers to untie the rope around her upper arm, pulling lightly up on the pressure to not get her wrist to throb so terribly. “Lusea and I made a pact in Korofi, that we’d never marry because of what it meant. It'd been shoved down my throat that I'd have some arranged marriage to better ties within the family if I lived past my seventeenth birthday. Lusea and I also agreed that we'd never have children, too, because Korofi was hard as hell to grow up in. And it was a dream to have someone wanting such things, especially there. I’d grown used to it, not marrying, not ever thinking about having to be a father, just enjoying each other and nothing more.” A small shrug granted. “Ten years later and I still don’t want that. But I conceded all of it to Phoebe, because I wanted to help her.” The insanity of his agreement of marrying her, giving her his protection, giving her children if she wanted it. And just like what he told her before, he reiterates here. “Miserable together is better than miserable alone. Though according to her I’m going out of my way to make her more miserable.”
if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?
would we fly?
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.
