// 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 //
Does he deserve it? He’s unsure. But there’s something about the brilliance of Nate’s smile, the way Pemota’s starlight and the moonlight filtering in glints off the pale grin, off the fangs that settles Sunjata inside just enough. It quirks the corners of his own up, an easier smile while his jaw doesn’t have to move or strain. However, the Attuned is at a loss as to what to say, so instead he focuses on the sparkle of confusion, of the what for the laughter, before he forgets about it. That is, until Nate’s speaking again and Sunjata’s brows wiggle a bit as they inch closer to one another. Am I? He asks.
Perhaps it’s just all the things he’s always wanted to say, held back by a tongue that’d been reprimanded far too many times to truly speak how he feels. Perhaps the drugs just pull that veil away for the world to see, and perhaps that’s why it’s so easy with Nate – because he wants to tell him everything, even the bad parts, because he knows Nate would still love him anyway.
He dives deep into the story of the dogs, however, hand scratching at Haai’s ears, slowly edging closer to Nate without realizing it, close enough that he can rest his head on Nate’s shoulder, nestled in close as he can without pain. I can imagine. He murmurs in regards to Nate’s father raising puppies and two boys. They had separate trainers, handlers, everything needed to protect the manor. As for his mother, though, steel gaze flits up to meet Nate’s face, the hand at his husband’s wrist shifting to run along his tattooed arm.
It takes him a moment to think of how to answer the comment, no shadows hidden in steal, no darkness glimmering over his face. She and Saar were the best parts. He admits, brows knitting together again as he thinks about it. Mother had a garden. It was the only place she’d go where Father wouldn’t go. His fingers continue their idle touch and strokes along Nate’s arm. It was this… Large greenhouse. She could grow anything. I spent a lot of time there when I was young. It was like… Her little gift for me after the Chamber visits. Isolation without actually being isolated. He murmurs thoughtfully, though it ends a bit bitterly. The Attuned bond is wide open, for Nate to feel what he feels, and as he mentions the greenhouse it’s bright and vibrant, a happy sensation, that sours at the mention of the chamber room, one that spikes a moment of bitterness.
If he could shake his head, he would, but he instead focuses on his husband – the anchor for him as he gets swept away. She grew the bluest hyacinths.
Perhaps it’s just all the things he’s always wanted to say, held back by a tongue that’d been reprimanded far too many times to truly speak how he feels. Perhaps the drugs just pull that veil away for the world to see, and perhaps that’s why it’s so easy with Nate – because he wants to tell him everything, even the bad parts, because he knows Nate would still love him anyway.
He dives deep into the story of the dogs, however, hand scratching at Haai’s ears, slowly edging closer to Nate without realizing it, close enough that he can rest his head on Nate’s shoulder, nestled in close as he can without pain. I can imagine. He murmurs in regards to Nate’s father raising puppies and two boys. They had separate trainers, handlers, everything needed to protect the manor. As for his mother, though, steel gaze flits up to meet Nate’s face, the hand at his husband’s wrist shifting to run along his tattooed arm.
It takes him a moment to think of how to answer the comment, no shadows hidden in steal, no darkness glimmering over his face. She and Saar were the best parts. He admits, brows knitting together again as he thinks about it. Mother had a garden. It was the only place she’d go where Father wouldn’t go. His fingers continue their idle touch and strokes along Nate’s arm. It was this… Large greenhouse. She could grow anything. I spent a lot of time there when I was young. It was like… Her little gift for me after the Chamber visits. Isolation without actually being isolated. He murmurs thoughtfully, though it ends a bit bitterly. The Attuned bond is wide open, for Nate to feel what he feels, and as he mentions the greenhouse it’s bright and vibrant, a happy sensation, that sours at the mention of the chamber room, one that spikes a moment of bitterness.
If he could shake his head, he would, but he instead focuses on his husband – the anchor for him as he gets swept away. She grew the bluest hyacinths.
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.
