sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine
"How many times have you come home bleeding out? Or like this?" Both arms come up to gesture towards Sunjata, getting dangerously close to too close, to that point of contact, the point of no return.
There's one last sneer, one last burst of defensive, jabbing anger, purely in response to the clipped words, the sharp tone, reminding Nate of the single slip he'd seen, of Sunjata's past, bleeding through who he was now. Vitriol sits on the tip of his tongue, words to hurt, but the other man opens his mouth first, and Nate stops, listens. There's no point in shouting over each other, when he knows he doesn't need to, but he doesn't expect to be hit so hard by the tirade.
Nate is silent, completely, the clack of the other mans teeth almost echoing now, no words rising to swallow up the sound immediately. He can't argue this, can't deflect any of it, not without very deliberately and intentionally severing what's between them. He can't bring himself to do that. But he's used to facing his mistakes on his own terms, to dealing with things on his own terms. He doesn't even know how to explain himself, not really, how to turn everything into words, into an explanation.
"I don't want you to talk any differently." It feels like an easy place to start, a solid base to build off, except he can't build anything, can't stop it all from spewing out of him after the first words. "I want things normal again. I want to be normal again. I miss you, all the time, and I know that I'm the one who changed, and I'm the one who fucked everything up, I just..." Nate closes his eye hard, so the force of Sunjata's eyes feels softer, so he doesn't have to know he's being looked at. He hates this, hates that he's spiralling again, hates that it's taken so long to break through his numb haze and rip out this. "You're... you're all I have. All I care about. And I can't do a fucking thing to keep you safe, I couldn't keep myself safe, I can't..." Should this feel like backtracking? Like a failure? He's trying to be open, but it feels like far too little, far too late.
He's thoroughly broken open now though, and as much as he wants to sink back into that anger, into the satisfying burn, he can't bring himself to. Can't sink fully into despair either, so he tries for something different, tries to cling to something that gives them time. "We have the week, right?" His voice sounds too quiet in his own ears now, too soft. "We can... figure this out. We can talk. Properly."
There is nothing but fear in Nate, when you dig deep enough. It is the core of him, and right now, the only thing that saves him, that spurs this change, is the fact that he's more afraid of losing Sunjata than he is of anything else. He'd go through hell, lose both his eyes, if it meant he still got to cling to the other man.
There's one last sneer, one last burst of defensive, jabbing anger, purely in response to the clipped words, the sharp tone, reminding Nate of the single slip he'd seen, of Sunjata's past, bleeding through who he was now. Vitriol sits on the tip of his tongue, words to hurt, but the other man opens his mouth first, and Nate stops, listens. There's no point in shouting over each other, when he knows he doesn't need to, but he doesn't expect to be hit so hard by the tirade.
Nate is silent, completely, the clack of the other mans teeth almost echoing now, no words rising to swallow up the sound immediately. He can't argue this, can't deflect any of it, not without very deliberately and intentionally severing what's between them. He can't bring himself to do that. But he's used to facing his mistakes on his own terms, to dealing with things on his own terms. He doesn't even know how to explain himself, not really, how to turn everything into words, into an explanation.
"I don't want you to talk any differently." It feels like an easy place to start, a solid base to build off, except he can't build anything, can't stop it all from spewing out of him after the first words. "I want things normal again. I want to be normal again. I miss you, all the time, and I know that I'm the one who changed, and I'm the one who fucked everything up, I just..." Nate closes his eye hard, so the force of Sunjata's eyes feels softer, so he doesn't have to know he's being looked at. He hates this, hates that he's spiralling again, hates that it's taken so long to break through his numb haze and rip out this. "You're... you're all I have. All I care about. And I can't do a fucking thing to keep you safe, I couldn't keep myself safe, I can't..." Should this feel like backtracking? Like a failure? He's trying to be open, but it feels like far too little, far too late.
He's thoroughly broken open now though, and as much as he wants to sink back into that anger, into the satisfying burn, he can't bring himself to. Can't sink fully into despair either, so he tries for something different, tries to cling to something that gives them time. "We have the week, right?" His voice sounds too quiet in his own ears now, too soft. "We can... figure this out. We can talk. Properly."
There is nothing but fear in Nate, when you dig deep enough. It is the core of him, and right now, the only thing that saves him, that spurs this change, is the fact that he's more afraid of losing Sunjata than he is of anything else. He'd go through hell, lose both his eyes, if it meant he still got to cling to the other man.
i couldn't get the boy to kill me
but i wore his jacket for the longest time
NATE
