with heaven on my mind, and hell, well i believe
Nate nods along to the explanation the other man gives, something incredibly familiar when he says he never intended to get married. It's not new information, he doesn't think, but it hits a familiar spot, the same it would have the first time. "It is a shame you did it with Phoebe." The agreement is rough, no small amount of amusement accompanying it. Nothing that happened now could take that sham of an affair back, but, maybe this could make the memory a little more comfortable.
There's no pain when the blade digs across his hand, nothing other than the sensation of fluid spilling, of something in his mind telling him this wasn't quite right. It's easy to ignore though, to not let his eyes move away from Sunjata's face. Slowly, so there's time for the other man to pull away, to laugh this off as a joke going too far, Nate moves his hand out from under the blade, meaning to mirror the position of his other hand, to cup the attuned's jaw between them. It's not quite a full circle, not quite a choker, but none of this is quite right. "Deur my bloed..." If he were just repeating it perfectly, this would be easy, but what comes out is stumbling, trying to translate and rewrite the phrase in his head. "Is ons gebind tot die einde toe."
A pause then, Nate hesitating a moment, then leaning in to press a proper kiss against Sunjata's lips, if the other man will let him. But it's a moment of tenderness he want's to move past quickly, his hands retracting so he can look at the gash bisecting his hand. And realizing, belatedly, that it's his dominant hand.
Deur my bloed is ons gebind tot die einde toe - By my blood, we're bound to the end. But incredibly awkward phrasing
There's no pain when the blade digs across his hand, nothing other than the sensation of fluid spilling, of something in his mind telling him this wasn't quite right. It's easy to ignore though, to not let his eyes move away from Sunjata's face. Slowly, so there's time for the other man to pull away, to laugh this off as a joke going too far, Nate moves his hand out from under the blade, meaning to mirror the position of his other hand, to cup the attuned's jaw between them. It's not quite a full circle, not quite a choker, but none of this is quite right. "Deur my bloed..." If he were just repeating it perfectly, this would be easy, but what comes out is stumbling, trying to translate and rewrite the phrase in his head. "Is ons gebind tot die einde toe."
A pause then, Nate hesitating a moment, then leaning in to press a proper kiss against Sunjata's lips, if the other man will let him. But it's a moment of tenderness he want's to move past quickly, his hands retracting so he can look at the gash bisecting his hand. And realizing, belatedly, that it's his dominant hand.
Deur my bloed is ons gebind tot die einde toe - By my blood, we're bound to the end. But incredibly awkward phrasing
in the stage lights, come down, breaking over me
NATE
