'cause the bad's been slowly getting worse
and this fast lane living, it's a curse
It's not uncommon for Nate to come home after a night out, and find the house empty, quiet. It doesn't worry him, not too much, though the roiling fog outside gives him a moment of pause. If he's lucky, there won't be too much time to worry, and he fills some of it with a shower, washing off his own adventures in the stream of water, and retiring to the bed once he's done, certain it's where Sunjata would be headed once he came home. The sound of the door has him perking up, sooner than he expected, and Nate is on his feet quickly, Pemota following him as he head towards the stairs, when the call rings out from downstairs.
"Ek is hier, sonskyn." Though there is something in the shakiness of Sunjata's voice that has him moving, still heart sinking in his chest, reaching it's nadir as he rounds the corner of the stairs, and sees the bruised and beaten body of his love. He is by the attuned's side in an instant, fast even considering his ascended abilities, a gentle eye looking over new injuries, gentler hands ghosting along bruises, along the lichtenberg pattern tracing up from a swollen hand. "What happened?" It's barely a whisper, words said entirely without breath, arms already reaching out to support to lead Sunjata towards a chair.
Ordinarily, Nate loses himself in moments like these, shifts entirely into a being focused, driven along certain steps. That switch does not overcome him this time, overruled by naked concern, by worry. A first aid kit that has seen far too much use in the short since it's been placed into the kitchen is pulled out, though Nate truly isn't sure what he can actually do, when the wounds already seem taken care of. A hand comes to rest on Sunjata's neck, closeness given the excuse of checking a pulse, the other hand spreading over the worst of the bruising, ascended skin cool enough to mimic a cold compress, in a pinch. Pemota settles just above the attuned's head, radiating calm and warmth, trying to ease the frantic state Sunjata was in.
"Ek is hier, sonskyn." Though there is something in the shakiness of Sunjata's voice that has him moving, still heart sinking in his chest, reaching it's nadir as he rounds the corner of the stairs, and sees the bruised and beaten body of his love. He is by the attuned's side in an instant, fast even considering his ascended abilities, a gentle eye looking over new injuries, gentler hands ghosting along bruises, along the lichtenberg pattern tracing up from a swollen hand. "What happened?" It's barely a whisper, words said entirely without breath, arms already reaching out to support to lead Sunjata towards a chair.
Ordinarily, Nate loses himself in moments like these, shifts entirely into a being focused, driven along certain steps. That switch does not overcome him this time, overruled by naked concern, by worry. A first aid kit that has seen far too much use in the short since it's been placed into the kitchen is pulled out, though Nate truly isn't sure what he can actually do, when the wounds already seem taken care of. A hand comes to rest on Sunjata's neck, closeness given the excuse of checking a pulse, the other hand spreading over the worst of the bruising, ascended skin cool enough to mimic a cold compress, in a pinch. Pemota settles just above the attuned's head, radiating calm and warmth, trying to ease the frantic state Sunjata was in.
better tell me what's your life worth
i think it's time for a change, 'cause the drugs don't work
