SUNJATA
the flood
i can still see your face looking back through the flames
and i search it, was it worth it?
and i search it, was it worth it?
Nate’s arms squeeze tighter around him and Sunjata’s confusion only grows. It’s different – the idea that if his husband were to break up with him, it wouldn’t begin with him pulling the Attuned tighter, by telling him that he was handling it, whatever that meant. He can’t help the pinch of his brows, in the way his head still rests against Nate’s, in the way he tries to shift slightly as the words continue, as that hollow pit in his stomach grows wider and deeper.
And perhaps it’s the pain that echoes through his bound and broken wing, but he exhales the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, shifting just so he can tuck his face into Nate’s neck, hiding them both away from one another, enshrouded in the darkness of the draped tricolored wing as Nate’s worry pours through him through the bond and almost chokes him up. Okay. He murmurs through the bond, shifting to try and drown out Nate’s worry and discomfort with his own confusion.
He presses a kiss to Nate’s neck with a quiet exhale of breath, settling in against his husband as if he feels fragile and small, when in reality the both of them are about as strong as cracked glass. “What is it? What are you handling?” He asks after a breath of air, a moment of trying to figure out how to word it, even if it doesn’t seem to come out as well as he thought it did.
And perhaps it’s the pain that echoes through his bound and broken wing, but he exhales the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, shifting just so he can tuck his face into Nate’s neck, hiding them both away from one another, enshrouded in the darkness of the draped tricolored wing as Nate’s worry pours through him through the bond and almost chokes him up. Okay. He murmurs through the bond, shifting to try and drown out Nate’s worry and discomfort with his own confusion.
He presses a kiss to Nate’s neck with a quiet exhale of breath, settling in against his husband as if he feels fragile and small, when in reality the both of them are about as strong as cracked glass. “What is it? What are you handling?” He asks after a breath of air, a moment of trying to figure out how to word it, even if it doesn’t seem to come out as well as he thought it did.
no i don't mind the smoke, but your tears make me choke
are you okay? should i go away?
are you okay? should i go away?
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.
