what's harder, harder to fake? that you want me to stay, or that you want me to stay the same
for you? chained to a lie. who's to blame? let it die. we're the same
for you? chained to a lie. who's to blame? let it die. we're the same
Sunjata knows why that is, knows why Hotaru would prefer to be an object rather than an equal, but it still doesn’t help the sinking feeling in his gut as the two of them continue, as his words are aired and the exhaustion evident in every lull of his accented voice. He leans on Nate, while at the same time leaning on Hotaru as a tether as well, positive that things were right because they were all here, all together again, even if the conversation was tough and hard.
But it needed to be done, didn’t it?
He swallows hard, steel eyes focusing on Hotaru’s face, swallowing hard against a parched throat as she mentions she’s been burned before. But he’d never compare himself to the Thranduil she’d told him of, of the Ashamin, only to use for greed and wants only to abandon at the end. He’d always had a part of him that loved Hotaru, evident in the way that he tries to keep her here now, and with Nate? He can see it in Nate as well, no jealousy in his heart for it because he understands. Hotaru is special, something else entirely. And once you had a sip, you couldn’t ever compare anything else to normalcy again.
His lips part to answer her question, but Nate beats him to it – the same expectations that are granted towards themselves too. And instead, he clamps his lips shut, head bobbing in a slight nod before he rests the back of his skull against the wall again. “Come home, Hotaru.” He rumbles softly, quieter, half lidded eyes watching her reaction. Until of course, she grabs their hands and he squeezes hers gently, squeezes Nate’s side as the Ascended leans in and offers his attention on the attuned, Sunjata’s head tilting toward his lover as if he might see through the question, but when it comes, it does surprise Sunjata – just enough, unsure what her response would be.
But he agrees.
“I’m sorry for what I did, Ru. But I’d never do to you what the men of your past did. Not intentionally, not without… You know. But…” He sighs heavily, squeezing her hand, knowing she’d understand the way he can be manipulated so easily. “Marry us.” It’s easier than explaining everything else, a quiet hum of hope strumming along within his heart as it beats thunderously loud in his ears. “Deimos might kill me, but it’d be worth it to have you.” A small bit of humor creeps up in the awkwardness of his agreement, a small wry smile crossing his face as he watches her for her reaction.
But it needed to be done, didn’t it?
He swallows hard, steel eyes focusing on Hotaru’s face, swallowing hard against a parched throat as she mentions she’s been burned before. But he’d never compare himself to the Thranduil she’d told him of, of the Ashamin, only to use for greed and wants only to abandon at the end. He’d always had a part of him that loved Hotaru, evident in the way that he tries to keep her here now, and with Nate? He can see it in Nate as well, no jealousy in his heart for it because he understands. Hotaru is special, something else entirely. And once you had a sip, you couldn’t ever compare anything else to normalcy again.
His lips part to answer her question, but Nate beats him to it – the same expectations that are granted towards themselves too. And instead, he clamps his lips shut, head bobbing in a slight nod before he rests the back of his skull against the wall again. “Come home, Hotaru.” He rumbles softly, quieter, half lidded eyes watching her reaction. Until of course, she grabs their hands and he squeezes hers gently, squeezes Nate’s side as the Ascended leans in and offers his attention on the attuned, Sunjata’s head tilting toward his lover as if he might see through the question, but when it comes, it does surprise Sunjata – just enough, unsure what her response would be.
But he agrees.
“I’m sorry for what I did, Ru. But I’d never do to you what the men of your past did. Not intentionally, not without… You know. But…” He sighs heavily, squeezing her hand, knowing she’d understand the way he can be manipulated so easily. “Marry us.” It’s easier than explaining everything else, a quiet hum of hope strumming along within his heart as it beats thunderously loud in his ears. “Deimos might kill me, but it’d be worth it to have you.” A small bit of humor creeps up in the awkwardness of his agreement, a small wry smile crossing his face as he watches her for her reaction.
SUNJATA
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.
