sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine
This is anger just for the sake of it, just to feel the burn. Every little push Sunjata tries to make only flares him up worse, makes him want to scream twice as long, twice as loud. "Don't act like you only had one option." Nate snarls. Even stopping one might've been enough, but did Sunjata know that? No! Hadn't they talked about this, on the beach of some wandering island? Wasn't this an old conversation? And yet, here they were.
Nate can see that he's struck a nerve, somewhere in his yelling, even if he can't pinpoint exactly what it is. He can see the feathers growing in at Sunjata's shoulders though, and presses harder, moving to take a step around the table, a step closer. Playing the predator. "No what? Huh?" If he were closer, this is where he'd shove a hand out, starting something he didn't want to, something he couldn't come back from. The last shred of sense he had kept him still, kept him from moving closer, though he shoved all the frustration, all the hurt and the anger and everything he could muster into his voice. "You're supposed to come home to me!"
He'd said, when this had started, that he was greedy, and he was. Self serving, selfish. And right now, if he had to make the choice, the whole city could burn if it meant the other man came back to him. Of course, Nate can't say that, can't voice it in anyway that matters, and he's stuck on his rage, on the cutting tones in his voice.
"I don't know. I don't know. But I don't give a fuck about-" The words stop suddenly, Nate's mouth closing with a snap, the realization washing over him. Humiliation floods over him, first and foremost, but it's followed by a kind of hollow acceptance. He hadn't managed to keep any other fuck up quiet, why would this be any different?
"Great." He croaks out, nodding. "I mean, what'd I expect? That no one had seen it? That people wouldn't talk about it? Idiot." This is as much spiral as it is wildfire, and Nate knows, with a certainty, and unwavering foreboding, that he'll be nothing by the end of this, he'll be back in that numb, quiet place he'd started in. The only thing he's not sure of is if he'll be truly alone or not.
Nate can see that he's struck a nerve, somewhere in his yelling, even if he can't pinpoint exactly what it is. He can see the feathers growing in at Sunjata's shoulders though, and presses harder, moving to take a step around the table, a step closer. Playing the predator. "No what? Huh?" If he were closer, this is where he'd shove a hand out, starting something he didn't want to, something he couldn't come back from. The last shred of sense he had kept him still, kept him from moving closer, though he shoved all the frustration, all the hurt and the anger and everything he could muster into his voice. "You're supposed to come home to me!"
He'd said, when this had started, that he was greedy, and he was. Self serving, selfish. And right now, if he had to make the choice, the whole city could burn if it meant the other man came back to him. Of course, Nate can't say that, can't voice it in anyway that matters, and he's stuck on his rage, on the cutting tones in his voice.
"I don't know. I don't know. But I don't give a fuck about-" The words stop suddenly, Nate's mouth closing with a snap, the realization washing over him. Humiliation floods over him, first and foremost, but it's followed by a kind of hollow acceptance. He hadn't managed to keep any other fuck up quiet, why would this be any different?
"Great." He croaks out, nodding. "I mean, what'd I expect? That no one had seen it? That people wouldn't talk about it? Idiot." This is as much spiral as it is wildfire, and Nate knows, with a certainty, and unwavering foreboding, that he'll be nothing by the end of this, he'll be back in that numb, quiet place he'd started in. The only thing he's not sure of is if he'll be truly alone or not.
i couldn't get the boy to kill me
but i wore his jacket for the longest time
NATE
