there's a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly
No matter how he still aches, how every motion seems to take a toll, Nate simply can't keep his arms still. He's a touch gentler now, but only by virtue of the glacial pace his hands move up and down his husband's back, trying to hold everywhere all at once. The absolutely ridiculous, absolutely sensible sounding thought of If I had more arms gets the chance to drift through his mind, a hiccup in the density of everything else he's feeling. And, stupidly, the thing that finally has tears flowing from him.
That flinch will come one day, he's sure, but for the moment, Nate looks up into steel eyes and sees only Sunjata. Both hands move now to cup the attuned's jaw, fingers fanning over the new scar carved into his cheek. We match now. Sorrow has coloured his voice this whole time, but it's more evident with these words than it has been before. It isn't as if he'd escaped unscathed either. Smooth, shiny featureless scars dapple over his side now, made worse where the sun had been magnified by the remnants of the tides on him. At least the dozens of smaller cuts and scrapes had healed already, barely a remnant of them left on his cool skin.
As Sunjata moves closer again, hands move to cup his head instead, pulling him painfully close again. You did it. They're beyond sense at the moment, two different conversations happening, all wrapped up in emotions that would be paralyzing alone, let alone reverberating through the pair of them. Now I've got you again. Silent as his voice is, it's all too easy to see the I'm sorry, I'm so sorry behind his words.
That flinch will come one day, he's sure, but for the moment, Nate looks up into steel eyes and sees only Sunjata. Both hands move now to cup the attuned's jaw, fingers fanning over the new scar carved into his cheek. We match now. Sorrow has coloured his voice this whole time, but it's more evident with these words than it has been before. It isn't as if he'd escaped unscathed either. Smooth, shiny featureless scars dapple over his side now, made worse where the sun had been magnified by the remnants of the tides on him. At least the dozens of smaller cuts and scrapes had healed already, barely a remnant of them left on his cool skin.
As Sunjata moves closer again, hands move to cup his head instead, pulling him painfully close again. You did it. They're beyond sense at the moment, two different conversations happening, all wrapped up in emotions that would be paralyzing alone, let alone reverberating through the pair of them. Now I've got you again. Silent as his voice is, it's all too easy to see the I'm sorry, I'm so sorry behind his words.
NATE
