all i can do is stand on the curb and say sorry about the blood in your mouth
It's not productive at all, not really, but having a plan helps to get more what if's flowing, sends his mind in a direction, instead of just spinning his wheels. Brings a tone to his voice, like he's trying for something snappish, something angry, but can't quite bring any real heat to his voice. "What if it can't be? If I can't be? If the Voice doesn't do anything?" It almost sounds like an accusation, though it's not clear if it's being aimed at anyone, if it's just an attempt to spew out vitriol. If he can't be upset, can't feel anything, then one of them had to.
Though the effect is broken suddenly, because as it turns out, he can still feel something. Fear. A desperate, panicky shift, his hands wrapping even tighter around Sunjata, his body drawing in even closer, leaving a void for Haai to lean in and fill. "Don't. Don't." It's a whisper, full of strangled panic. What if this wasn't about him at all? Just a threat, a warning, a way to draw out Sunjata. If the other man came back injured, or worse, didn't come back at all, that would be even more painful than this, that would be the final straw.
Though the effect is broken suddenly, because as it turns out, he can still feel something. Fear. A desperate, panicky shift, his hands wrapping even tighter around Sunjata, his body drawing in even closer, leaving a void for Haai to lean in and fill. "Don't. Don't." It's a whisper, full of strangled panic. What if this wasn't about him at all? Just a threat, a warning, a way to draw out Sunjata. If the other man came back injured, or worse, didn't come back at all, that would be even more painful than this, that would be the final straw.
i wish it was mine
NATE
