// 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 //
He doesn’t notice, too far gone mentally at the moment to spy the shift in Nate, the awkwardness that might hide behind the bright laugh, the bright smile. And as Korofi is said back to him, mentally, Sunjata can’t help the crinkling of his eyes with the smile he wishes to give. It’s much better. Because in the end, he was Nate’s. Gods be damned. He’d always pick him unless something forced his hand otherwise. He consistently hopes and prays it won’t, that he’d keep his mind through it all.
Not become some assassin in the night, least of all to the person that means the most to him.
It’s a good thing I’m tall, then, huh? The joke is offered easily, the switch in his tone reverting back to a cross between the ease of Torchline and less of the Korofi nobility that had overtaken him – Nate’s own words infiltrating his. No, no, no. I mean… It does count after. But… I can find one before. For you. I want to. He’s jumbling his thoughts together, moving too fast for his mind to keep track of as he projects them.
Perhaps the feel of ivory keys beneath his calloused fingers might spark some… Peace. Something else to focus on. And perhaps the idea of a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a glass of whiskey above the keys, playing music just for Nate sparks some inner happiness he wasn’t sure he could reach again. Perhaps it’s what he needs to ground himself.
Nothing of that holds a candle to the warmth that blossoms in his chest, that pours like a flood down the bond to the other man, to wrap around those sore parts of his past and fill them with happiness that can’t be rubbed away. A happiness that blossoms and blooms, just as Nate had done for Sunjata in those darkest moments – the light to guide him out.
So he pushes and pushes that warmth through, leaning forward through the pain that they both know is a terrible idea but not willing to, not wanting to stop. The sound that colors the air from his husband is met with more warmth, more love, a smothered blanket of life to look forward to, to drown out the sadness and sorrows, of what could come and what was coming.
They’re stronger than that. They’re stronger than everything that wants to take them apart. He knows this. It’s his mantra, it’s his prayer.
Star-crossed lovers, as it were. Sunjata would move them if he could. He’d give everything. And after everything he’s done in life, it’s the least he could do to repent, to show any semblance of what a gift Nate has been to him, has brought him, has shown him.
It scares me too, skatjie. He murmurs, pulling away just enough that he can peer into the Ascended’s face, to loosen his hand in his hair to rest along his neck. I’d do it all over. Again and again. He adds on, breathlessly, his other hand coming up to push back the Ascended’s dark hair from his face, to wipe away the tears that may have fallen. Because it got me you. He's sure he's said this before, but something about it seems like it might mean more in the moment. And what could it really hurt, repeating the thoughts in his mind, the love in his heart?
Not become some assassin in the night, least of all to the person that means the most to him.
It’s a good thing I’m tall, then, huh? The joke is offered easily, the switch in his tone reverting back to a cross between the ease of Torchline and less of the Korofi nobility that had overtaken him – Nate’s own words infiltrating his. No, no, no. I mean… It does count after. But… I can find one before. For you. I want to. He’s jumbling his thoughts together, moving too fast for his mind to keep track of as he projects them.
Perhaps the feel of ivory keys beneath his calloused fingers might spark some… Peace. Something else to focus on. And perhaps the idea of a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a glass of whiskey above the keys, playing music just for Nate sparks some inner happiness he wasn’t sure he could reach again. Perhaps it’s what he needs to ground himself.
Nothing of that holds a candle to the warmth that blossoms in his chest, that pours like a flood down the bond to the other man, to wrap around those sore parts of his past and fill them with happiness that can’t be rubbed away. A happiness that blossoms and blooms, just as Nate had done for Sunjata in those darkest moments – the light to guide him out.
So he pushes and pushes that warmth through, leaning forward through the pain that they both know is a terrible idea but not willing to, not wanting to stop. The sound that colors the air from his husband is met with more warmth, more love, a smothered blanket of life to look forward to, to drown out the sadness and sorrows, of what could come and what was coming.
They’re stronger than that. They’re stronger than everything that wants to take them apart. He knows this. It’s his mantra, it’s his prayer.
Star-crossed lovers, as it were. Sunjata would move them if he could. He’d give everything. And after everything he’s done in life, it’s the least he could do to repent, to show any semblance of what a gift Nate has been to him, has brought him, has shown him.
It scares me too, skatjie. He murmurs, pulling away just enough that he can peer into the Ascended’s face, to loosen his hand in his hair to rest along his neck. I’d do it all over. Again and again. He adds on, breathlessly, his other hand coming up to push back the Ascended’s dark hair from his face, to wipe away the tears that may have fallen. Because it got me you. He's sure he's said this before, but something about it seems like it might mean more in the moment. And what could it really hurt, repeating the thoughts in his mind, the love in his heart?
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.
