You pump the blood so I can breathe, Don't let me go don't ever leave
Nate might emotional, hysterical, unreasonable, but he is not stupid, and he is not deaf. He hears the words Sunjata doesn’t say alongside the few he does, hears the but linger in the background. Imagines how it must have looked; thin, placating protests, too quiet to be heard or taken seriously. It’s a picture that tears even more at his insides, buckling walls in him that Nate had thought were solid and steady.
All that anger and pain comes out in his voice, the mental shout, a plea for Sunjata to understand. I’m dead without her! Everything I am comes from the Voice. Everything you love comes from the Voice. Nate bares his teeth, tongue wagging out of his mouth as he glares at Sunjata, looking more human, more primal than he has in days. Its your cunt goddess that’s the fucking problem Sunshine!
Snatching the bottle out of reach of Sunjata, Nate throws it towards the wall instead, distracted while it shatters and falls to the floor, another mess they'll have to clean up eventually. A sound, something that’s trying to be a laugh gags out of the ascended, loud in the echoing silence of the room. He wishes it had done something, wishes it could stop whatever it is that’s growing in his chest without his permission.
All at once, Nate whirls to face Sunjata fully, unblinking electric stare locked on the attuned, measuring each word that rings into his head. He doesn’t dare to let himself hope, knows better than to do that now, knows what kind of life they’re living, but it’s enough to smooth out the rough edges, enough to keep his eyes from watering. “What if?” He repeats, an invitation for elaboration, for Sunjata to pitch the idea.
All that anger and pain comes out in his voice, the mental shout, a plea for Sunjata to understand. I’m dead without her! Everything I am comes from the Voice. Everything you love comes from the Voice. Nate bares his teeth, tongue wagging out of his mouth as he glares at Sunjata, looking more human, more primal than he has in days. Its your cunt goddess that’s the fucking problem Sunshine!
Snatching the bottle out of reach of Sunjata, Nate throws it towards the wall instead, distracted while it shatters and falls to the floor, another mess they'll have to clean up eventually. A sound, something that’s trying to be a laugh gags out of the ascended, loud in the echoing silence of the room. He wishes it had done something, wishes it could stop whatever it is that’s growing in his chest without his permission.
All at once, Nate whirls to face Sunjata fully, unblinking electric stare locked on the attuned, measuring each word that rings into his head. He doesn’t dare to let himself hope, knows better than to do that now, knows what kind of life they’re living, but it’s enough to smooth out the rough edges, enough to keep his eyes from watering. “What if?” He repeats, an invitation for elaboration, for Sunjata to pitch the idea.
NATE
