You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave
I am! Nate insists, immediately contrary. There’s a hiss in his silent voice that rattles through his throat, barely there, and yet loud enough to compete with the thunder of Sunjata’s heart. When have I not chosen you? Theres a twitch, a moment where Nate nearly pulls back from the venom in his own words, before pressing back in against the attuned so hard it makes his teeth creak in protest.
The open vein of sickly emotion thumping from Nate bleeds out slowly, replaced with an icy miasma that seems to make both of them ache as much as the other. At least, it seems that way, if the tension in the ascended’s jaw is anything to go by. There’s no easy solution, nothing he can do except continue to pull back, crushing down the parts of himself that bleed and howl and spit venom in an attempt to escape.
And then, it comes to him. Simple, easy. We can just take it out, huh? We’ve got time, eight seasons time, I can figure it out. And that should be that, right? It should be enough to drag Sunjata back to the safety of neutrality, a hope that Nate allows to swell around him in a dizzying delusion, breaking through the chill in the bond. The ascended let’s out a soft, near hysterical laugh, that missing hand returning to clutch at the attuned. It doesn’t have to be hard, Sunny, right?
The open vein of sickly emotion thumping from Nate bleeds out slowly, replaced with an icy miasma that seems to make both of them ache as much as the other. At least, it seems that way, if the tension in the ascended’s jaw is anything to go by. There’s no easy solution, nothing he can do except continue to pull back, crushing down the parts of himself that bleed and howl and spit venom in an attempt to escape.
And then, it comes to him. Simple, easy. We can just take it out, huh? We’ve got time, eight seasons time, I can figure it out. And that should be that, right? It should be enough to drag Sunjata back to the safety of neutrality, a hope that Nate allows to swell around him in a dizzying delusion, breaking through the chill in the bond. The ascended let’s out a soft, near hysterical laugh, that missing hand returning to clutch at the attuned. It doesn’t have to be hard, Sunny, right?
NATE
