if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?
is it safer if we just say that we tried?
There’s nothing that would stop Sunjata from loving Nate. Certainly not a scar, not even a missing eye if he couldn’t be fixed – nothing would stop the feeling that courses through Sunjata’s veins with the mere mention of Nate, that fierce protectiveness only growing stronger with this. And he gets it now, gets what it feels like to be on the other end and if anything… If anything, Sunjata feels like he should be the one apologizing – that he hasn’t made Torchline safer yet, if someone could attack someone else and get away with it, what was stopping anyone else?
But he nearly exhales a shaking breath of relief when Nate’s arms wrap around him, however tight, clinging to him just as much as Sunjata holds Nate. And he’s shifting ever so slightly now, pulling himself so his back can reach the headboard, keeping Nate in his lap and Haai as the added barrier, resting his face and cheek along Nate’s head, eyes shutting tight against the way Nate tries to speak, the words blurring together and repeated so much that Sunjata only squeezes him tighter. “It’s not your fault.” He says softly, gently, meaning every single word of it.
And then he’s removing one hand from around Nate, to search for that balled up fist, the left hand to his own. His fingers tap against Nate’s balled fist, as if he’s trying to make some quiet statement. “You are mine and I am yours.” A promise and a prayer. “Until the end.” No amount of scars or attacks, no amount of breakdowns and spirals would push Sunjata away from the Ascended.
But he nearly exhales a shaking breath of relief when Nate’s arms wrap around him, however tight, clinging to him just as much as Sunjata holds Nate. And he’s shifting ever so slightly now, pulling himself so his back can reach the headboard, keeping Nate in his lap and Haai as the added barrier, resting his face and cheek along Nate’s head, eyes shutting tight against the way Nate tries to speak, the words blurring together and repeated so much that Sunjata only squeezes him tighter. “It’s not your fault.” He says softly, gently, meaning every single word of it.
And then he’s removing one hand from around Nate, to search for that balled up fist, the left hand to his own. His fingers tap against Nate’s balled fist, as if he’s trying to make some quiet statement. “You are mine and I am yours.” A promise and a prayer. “Until the end.” No amount of scars or attacks, no amount of breakdowns and spirals would push Sunjata away from the Ascended.
are we laughing at the danger?
are we dancing after death, you and I?
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.
