- NATE -
but who am I to say?
let's all just run away
let's all just run away
Nate's hates this, hates being held down, hates this part of Sunjata, hates that they're having a fucking argument instead of trying to make things better. Instead of trying to deal with things. All he feels is pressure, and he hates that too, hates that this doesn't hurt his body more than his heart, because at least that would be something else to focus on, something he could use to drown it all out. Every move he makes is fought against, arms shifting around him to keep him in place, and Nate bares his teeth at that, tugs more on the horn in a frustrated rebellion.
There's more fire on his tongue at the growled response, more frustration bubbling up over sorrow, and something close to panic now, though Nate would never let go of himself to quite that extent, it doesn't mean it doesn't simmer, doesn't try. The only thing that keeps him from going off again is the shift in Sunjata, the way he slumps suddenly. Nate honestly isn't sure what it is, what words finally broke through, but he nearly slumps himself, relieved at last.
Slowly, the hand releases from around Sunjata's horn, wraps around the attuneds shoulder instead, to pull him in close against Nate. "You should be fucking sorry." He murmurs, other arm coming up to make the embrace a proper hug, pull it away from the oppressive, the authoritarian. "I'm sorry too. I... I told you, I'm fucking bad at this. But if I have to be a dick to not lose you, I will." At this point, Nate feels like he's out of his head, a step to the left of himself, now that there's room to breathe between them he doesn't know what to do.
The wall at least is sturdy, when neither of them is, and Nate can lean back against it, pull the attuned down with him as he slides to the floor. "Sunjata, I'm not letting you go. Okay? I'm not." As if to demonstrate his arms grow tighter, fingers moving to curl through the other man's hair. "I've got you."
There's more fire on his tongue at the growled response, more frustration bubbling up over sorrow, and something close to panic now, though Nate would never let go of himself to quite that extent, it doesn't mean it doesn't simmer, doesn't try. The only thing that keeps him from going off again is the shift in Sunjata, the way he slumps suddenly. Nate honestly isn't sure what it is, what words finally broke through, but he nearly slumps himself, relieved at last.
Slowly, the hand releases from around Sunjata's horn, wraps around the attuneds shoulder instead, to pull him in close against Nate. "You should be fucking sorry." He murmurs, other arm coming up to make the embrace a proper hug, pull it away from the oppressive, the authoritarian. "I'm sorry too. I... I told you, I'm fucking bad at this. But if I have to be a dick to not lose you, I will." At this point, Nate feels like he's out of his head, a step to the left of himself, now that there's room to breathe between them he doesn't know what to do.
The wall at least is sturdy, when neither of them is, and Nate can lean back against it, pull the attuned down with him as he slides to the floor. "Sunjata, I'm not letting you go. Okay? I'm not." As if to demonstrate his arms grow tighter, fingers moving to curl through the other man's hair. "I've got you."
grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today
and we'll burn this world today
