you're trying not to tell him you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling
Creeping downstairs in the middle of the night was already a habit Nate indulged in more often than he wanted to admit, but recently, it's been more of a necessity than anything else. Sunjata has been sleeping on the main floor, and some paranoid flame that kept getting fanned higher and higher in Nate's chest insisted on checking on him periodically. Just to make sure he hadn't left, hadn't been stolen by the moon, or some mob, or any other of the troubles that seemed to follow them.
Tonight is no different, though Nate waits until the sounds of movement downstairs have been silent for some time before he pries himself from Hotaru's arms, a soothing kiss pressed to her cheek to quiet any protest. He's dressed enough to hide most of himself in shadows, away from hateful moonlight and the creeping dawn, when it comes.
Passing by Haai as quietly as he can manage, Nate pauses to let his hand brush along her head, a deep sigh slipping from him. It's just a moment's reprieve, where he can pretend things are fine. Where he can pretend like he doesn't feel the weight of the blood ring against his chest instead of on his finger. A single eye glances over the dark bundle of fur under the griffon's wing, and Nate moves on into the kitchen.
Pemota's soothing glow waits for him there, the starwhal floating to hover around his shoulders. While he hasn't been cooking much at all, there's always been coffee ready in the morning, and today is not going to be any different. Nate does what he can to keep quiet, but he is grinding coffee beans, and as bad as he would feel to disturb Sunjata, as much as he doesn't want to talk about anything that's happened, Nate misses him.
Tonight is no different, though Nate waits until the sounds of movement downstairs have been silent for some time before he pries himself from Hotaru's arms, a soothing kiss pressed to her cheek to quiet any protest. He's dressed enough to hide most of himself in shadows, away from hateful moonlight and the creeping dawn, when it comes.
Passing by Haai as quietly as he can manage, Nate pauses to let his hand brush along her head, a deep sigh slipping from him. It's just a moment's reprieve, where he can pretend things are fine. Where he can pretend like he doesn't feel the weight of the blood ring against his chest instead of on his finger. A single eye glances over the dark bundle of fur under the griffon's wing, and Nate moves on into the kitchen.
Pemota's soothing glow waits for him there, the starwhal floating to hover around his shoulders. While he hasn't been cooking much at all, there's always been coffee ready in the morning, and today is not going to be any different. Nate does what he can to keep quiet, but he is grinding coffee beans, and as bad as he would feel to disturb Sunjata, as much as he doesn't want to talk about anything that's happened, Nate misses him.
& you're trembling and he reaches over
and touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist
NATE
