SUNJATA
the flood
you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face
At least with the coffee cup – spiked as it may be – moved to the side table, Sunjata can lean a bit more on Nate, his body molding and melding in against the cool touch of the Ascended in a way that causes some relief, some form of comfort among the rest of the burns as the warmth starts to spread in his stomach. He fights off more of the nausea, eyes shutting tight as Nate begins to agree, shifting them so he’s flatter against the Ascended to use as an anchor.
Gods he loves this man.
His good arm wraps around Nate’s middle, leaning against him with all the exhaustion in his bones, pressing his face into Nate’s shoulder where he can, feeling the way that those cool fingers work to stretch the skin around the burns with quiet, protesting hisses slipping from Sunjata despite knowing that they needed to be done. “I’m usually not hurt that badly.” He protests quietly, but he knows. Nate had witnessed Sunjata’s head first and shield the others mentality first hand now. Before, when the volcano erupted, it had been easy – far from the danger. But this? Trapped in a tunnel? There wasn’t an out.
His apology is met with a quiet shuddering inhale as it stretches the wound to his shoulder when his lungs expand, lips pursing slightly as he considers it for a long moment. “It’s okay.” He finally manages, attempting to squeeze Nate around the middle. “We made it, didn’t we?” They’d made it out, even if Sunjata felt half dead because of it.
Gods he loves this man.
His good arm wraps around Nate’s middle, leaning against him with all the exhaustion in his bones, pressing his face into Nate’s shoulder where he can, feeling the way that those cool fingers work to stretch the skin around the burns with quiet, protesting hisses slipping from Sunjata despite knowing that they needed to be done. “I’m usually not hurt that badly.” He protests quietly, but he knows. Nate had witnessed Sunjata’s head first and shield the others mentality first hand now. Before, when the volcano erupted, it had been easy – far from the danger. But this? Trapped in a tunnel? There wasn’t an out.
His apology is met with a quiet shuddering inhale as it stretches the wound to his shoulder when his lungs expand, lips pursing slightly as he considers it for a long moment. “It’s okay.” He finally manages, attempting to squeeze Nate around the middle. “We made it, didn’t we?” They’d made it out, even if Sunjata felt half dead because of it.
by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
and it hurts 'cause we survived it
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.
