swimming in the murky water

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

He knows Nate hasn’t gone anywhere, knows that he’s been here waiting the whole time. Knows that it’s been himself that’s gone and come back, half alive and half dead far too many times to count. He knows it’s him that’s used to this by now, used to being attacked and harmed, absolutely not making any friends out wherever he plans to live for however long he’s there. But it hurts a bit differently with the idea of Nate – seeing it rather than feeling it, because Sunjata was often like a steel trap, burning those traumas deep within him to think about far, far later than the shell Nate’s become as he’s stood there in front of him, as he has been since the last attack.

But he keeps his forehead pressed to Nate’s, hearing the slight apology, the way Nate trails off and Sunjata’s not even sure where it’s going. But he takes another quiet and long inhale, chewing on the inside of his cheek momentarily before his longer exhale soothes the ruffled feathers along his shoulders and down his arms. “I didn’t mean to either.” He finally manages, letting go of Nate’s hands to wrap his arms around Nate, to bury his head into Nate’s neck and try and hide away even if it hurts to do so. “Ek is lief vir you, my maanlig.”

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end