// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose,
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
His heart does stutter occasionally, a pulse that varies and shifts with the motions Sunjata goes through to finish his meal. But when it’s done, his heart calms just enough for him to feel okay enough to stand. Nate’s arms remain around him, though, a soft smile of encouragement it feels like, granted from his lover. And he finally does stand, leaning a bit heavier on Nate as the exhaustion starts to weigh so heavily in his bones, in his mind, in everything.
Before he realizes it, they’re in the bathroom – water drawing and he’s shrugging out of his clothes with Nate’s help. A sluggish thought occurs to him, to tell Nate that there’s a bag in the front pocket of the pants, of the medicine Vai had given him and specifically instructed him to bring home so Nate would know what he’d had taken aside from the magical healing she’d given so his heart wouldn’t burst.
It disappears as Nate’s hands help soothe any rush of anxiety, of forgetfulness, a tenderness and care shown to him as if he is glass and he might break should Nate push too hard. He’s not sure if it helps or hurts to be held and cared for like this – always expecting to be strong, never expecting to be like this. But, the attuned leans back in the tub, hissing against the cold of the porcelain and relishing the warmth of the water – dipping his hands and arms below the surface to warm him up and hopefully temper any tremors.
Nate takes his head into his hands, and Sunjata tries to focus on Nate’s blue eye, to focus on the scar, on anything, but it’s shaky at best. He’s thankful when Nate leans in for the kiss, pressing back into it as if he might be able to shift another apology through the action, without having to say it again, eyes shutting tight. And when Sunjata breaks the kiss, he keeps his forehead against Nate’s, keeps his eyes closed, takes a deep inhale to breathe in and steady himself. “In the front pocket of the pants are what Vai gave me.” He murmurs. “She told me to bring it to you so you’d know.” So Nate would know what it was, how she’d treated him, what steps had already been taken.
Before he realizes it, they’re in the bathroom – water drawing and he’s shrugging out of his clothes with Nate’s help. A sluggish thought occurs to him, to tell Nate that there’s a bag in the front pocket of the pants, of the medicine Vai had given him and specifically instructed him to bring home so Nate would know what he’d had taken aside from the magical healing she’d given so his heart wouldn’t burst.
It disappears as Nate’s hands help soothe any rush of anxiety, of forgetfulness, a tenderness and care shown to him as if he is glass and he might break should Nate push too hard. He’s not sure if it helps or hurts to be held and cared for like this – always expecting to be strong, never expecting to be like this. But, the attuned leans back in the tub, hissing against the cold of the porcelain and relishing the warmth of the water – dipping his hands and arms below the surface to warm him up and hopefully temper any tremors.
Nate takes his head into his hands, and Sunjata tries to focus on Nate’s blue eye, to focus on the scar, on anything, but it’s shaky at best. He’s thankful when Nate leans in for the kiss, pressing back into it as if he might be able to shift another apology through the action, without having to say it again, eyes shutting tight. And when Sunjata breaks the kiss, he keeps his forehead against Nate’s, keeps his eyes closed, takes a deep inhale to breathe in and steady himself. “In the front pocket of the pants are what Vai gave me.” He murmurs. “She told me to bring it to you so you’d know.” So Nate would know what it was, how she’d treated him, what steps had already been taken.
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.
