SUNJATA
the flood
'cause my life is like a bedroom door
don't lead me in when you feel low
don't lead me in when you feel low
He can feel the smile that blooms across Nate’s face, and he can feel the way his heart thunders in his chest, like a roaring drum in his ears. But it quells as soon as Nate’s head shifts, as soon as the lightning electricity meets his storms, and the smile is reflected just as much – fanged and pleased with the result as he leans into the light touch through wavy dark hair, as his own hand brushes along the pale skin of Nate’s face. The comment of always coming home settles him further, thumb stroking along a strong jaw line before his gaze is searching Nate’s face for the lie within – as if he’s been lied to before with this very similar thing.
“It’s becoming a pretty large book of people and things.” He offers weakly in an attempt at a bit more humor – ducking his own head a small amount, perhaps sheepishly, before he quiets and lets Nate finish. Nate had been quiet while he’d stumbled over his words, it was only fair that Sunjata do the same while they try to figure out exactly how to go about the thoughts that swirl in their minds. And when he explains, the smile along his face shifts into a slight smirk along his own, leaning briefly into the tapping fingers along his skull. “Mm, well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He adds with a quiet breathy laugh.
A few moments later and he’s squeezing Nate lightly against him again, head tilting back a small amount, as if he’s trying to hide his own face and failing quite miserably to do so. “It… Takes me awhile to open up. Fully, that is.” He begins, quietly. “And there’s things that I’ll do despite trying so fucking hard not to.” His mind reflects back on his spiral, on pinning Nate against the wall, that Korofian enforcer leaking through the cracks. “Please just forgive me for it. I don’t mean it.” Because he’s sure the cycle will repeat itself, that he’ll try to push Nate away again and again.
He only hopes he stays through it. And so, just as before, when saying ‘I love you’ had become too hard and difficult of a thing to manage, he shows it in his body language – the one that doesn’t require the use of shitty words and hoarse, hurting throats. His head nears Nate’s again, pressing a softer, more gentler kiss to the Ascended’s lips.
“It’s becoming a pretty large book of people and things.” He offers weakly in an attempt at a bit more humor – ducking his own head a small amount, perhaps sheepishly, before he quiets and lets Nate finish. Nate had been quiet while he’d stumbled over his words, it was only fair that Sunjata do the same while they try to figure out exactly how to go about the thoughts that swirl in their minds. And when he explains, the smile along his face shifts into a slight smirk along his own, leaning briefly into the tapping fingers along his skull. “Mm, well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He adds with a quiet breathy laugh.
A few moments later and he’s squeezing Nate lightly against him again, head tilting back a small amount, as if he’s trying to hide his own face and failing quite miserably to do so. “It… Takes me awhile to open up. Fully, that is.” He begins, quietly. “And there’s things that I’ll do despite trying so fucking hard not to.” His mind reflects back on his spiral, on pinning Nate against the wall, that Korofian enforcer leaking through the cracks. “Please just forgive me for it. I don’t mean it.” Because he’s sure the cycle will repeat itself, that he’ll try to push Nate away again and again.
He only hopes he stays through it. And so, just as before, when saying ‘I love you’ had become too hard and difficult of a thing to manage, he shows it in his body language – the one that doesn’t require the use of shitty words and hoarse, hurting throats. His head nears Nate’s again, pressing a softer, more gentler kiss to the Ascended’s lips.
'cause i might make a move
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.
