SUNJATA
i found hope in a hopeless home
found my father but i lost my soul
found my father but i lost my soul
It’s something he’s fallen into, a trap of sorts – curious to see how it ends, curious to see how far she goes, what runs through her mind, what lines there are and lines he was sure she wouldn’t cross. Until, of course, she does, and her nose brushes by his and he waits with an almost baited breath in the middle of the climb, on his back among the lava rock dirt and the heat of both the environment they find themselves in and the heat from her above him.
The steel of his gaze watches her, however blurry it is, as her fingernails dig in against his chest, sliding up and up in ways that she hasn’t ever done before. And when she tells him she’s not running anymore, confusion blares its loud siren in his head, precisely the time that her lips meet his. It’s different now than it would have been back when they’d been in this position before. There wasn’t the scar that twisted the corner of his lips, there wasn’t the history shared between them, the sparring conversation, the fact that she’d been one of the ones to keep him on his set path.
The new Queen would find he tastes like the hint of smoke, the hint of whiskey, of salt and oceans and electricity from the breath that had just raced through his throat previously, and Sunjata does kiss her back, only for an effort of pushing her up enough so that he can flip them, to place her with her back to the ground, to pull away quickly as his sudden worries and admittedly a small fraction of fear overcomes him internally.
He pulls away, keeping her there for a second by her shoulders, before he’s pushing off of her and rising, readjusting his shirt, running a sweat slicked hand through his hair as a flush covers his neck, under the scars of ascended bites and the rest. “I don’t… Understand.” He manages, his voice tight with uncertainty.
The steel of his gaze watches her, however blurry it is, as her fingernails dig in against his chest, sliding up and up in ways that she hasn’t ever done before. And when she tells him she’s not running anymore, confusion blares its loud siren in his head, precisely the time that her lips meet his. It’s different now than it would have been back when they’d been in this position before. There wasn’t the scar that twisted the corner of his lips, there wasn’t the history shared between them, the sparring conversation, the fact that she’d been one of the ones to keep him on his set path.
The new Queen would find he tastes like the hint of smoke, the hint of whiskey, of salt and oceans and electricity from the breath that had just raced through his throat previously, and Sunjata does kiss her back, only for an effort of pushing her up enough so that he can flip them, to place her with her back to the ground, to pull away quickly as his sudden worries and admittedly a small fraction of fear overcomes him internally.
He pulls away, keeping her there for a second by her shoulders, before he’s pushing off of her and rising, readjusting his shirt, running a sweat slicked hand through his hair as a flush covers his neck, under the scars of ascended bites and the rest. “I don’t… Understand.” He manages, his voice tight with uncertainty.
i tried to trace it, i aimed to scope
been tryna kill it, but it's all i know
been tryna kill it, but it's all i know
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.
