SUNJATA
the flood
but am i too late? or hearts to your spades,
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
Her hand grazes along his jaw, her thumb stroking gently along his stubble, his head tilting a fraction into it as he regards her, as he tells her why he can’t let it go. He has to bottle it up, because to not bottle it up made him an asshole, made him more like his father, and it was something he actively strove to avoid. So he’d bottle it up until he explodes, and then start the process over again and again. And luckily for Maeve, he’s already exploded when it came to everything. He’d broken as he’d broken Nate. The one she sees now is simply picking up the pieces, blocking out the light from the windows of his fracturing soul, bound together out of sheer will.
Her thumb travels along, runs along his lower lip just as it had the first night. And back then? That was before Safrin, before all of this, and he’d had his barriers that he’d built up. Here, however, there are none. Everyone’s left. And she’s assured him that it was nothing more than that, a distraction, so he lets go a bit more. He lets go of himself, the shifts within him, the horns that spiral from his head, the way the one hand in her hair tangles and pulls slightly, the way the other hand around her waist moves to settle along the edge of the corset on her hip.
“Distract me, Maeve.” He murmurs, his gaze flickering suddenly back toward the slit pupils of one of his shifts, the wings that appear and move to wrap around her, to blot out the firelight. Haai has taken the kittens at this point, traveled upstairs, a few small guardians for the upstairs while Sunjata applies his focus here. And he does, his chin lifting a fraction, his jaw set.
Her thumb travels along, runs along his lower lip just as it had the first night. And back then? That was before Safrin, before all of this, and he’d had his barriers that he’d built up. Here, however, there are none. Everyone’s left. And she’s assured him that it was nothing more than that, a distraction, so he lets go a bit more. He lets go of himself, the shifts within him, the horns that spiral from his head, the way the one hand in her hair tangles and pulls slightly, the way the other hand around her waist moves to settle along the edge of the corset on her hip.
“Distract me, Maeve.” He murmurs, his gaze flickering suddenly back toward the slit pupils of one of his shifts, the wings that appear and move to wrap around her, to blot out the firelight. Haai has taken the kittens at this point, traveled upstairs, a few small guardians for the upstairs while Sunjata applies his focus here. And he does, his chin lifting a fraction, his jaw set.
so we're not written in the stars,
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
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.
