i never got to ask you how you got so good
The rumble of Nate’s voice is a balm against the emptiness and Sunjata clings to it desperately, as if he could listen to Nate’s voice enough to feel entirely whole again. He can’t and it’s unfair of him to try, but at this point it’s the only thing he can do. The fingers that tangle in his hair are gentle distractions and Sunjata does the same with Nate’s curls. It’s okay. He murmurs gently, mentally, trying to keep the slippery slope at bay.
It doesn’t work though, because the second Nate asks the question – that terrible, horrible are you okay, Sunjata’s face twists and he tries so desperately to keep the sheen from his eyes, the dark clawed void of pain from squeezing his throat. His lips twist, tug against the scar as he works his jaw, as that oil slick of brokenness slips back in and Sunjata tries to recoil from it before it devours everything. He tries to keep as much of it from Nate as he can, but it spreads and spreads like a virus in his side of the attuned bond.
His gaze drops from Nate, unable to meet the electric blues of Nate’s, instead focusing on the collar of his shirt, on the swirl of a tattoo along his arm from where it rests against Nate’s shoulder. Ek het Haai verloor… Even his mental voice quavers and breaks, his fingers trembling by where they linger on the back of Nate’s neck. I should… I should’ve left her at home and I didn’t and… He shuts his eyes tight, swallowing hard, managing to meet Nate’s gaze with a glimmer of tears in his eyes, the pinch to his brow as the tears begin to overflow. And now she’s dead.
It doesn’t work though, because the second Nate asks the question – that terrible, horrible are you okay, Sunjata’s face twists and he tries so desperately to keep the sheen from his eyes, the dark clawed void of pain from squeezing his throat. His lips twist, tug against the scar as he works his jaw, as that oil slick of brokenness slips back in and Sunjata tries to recoil from it before it devours everything. He tries to keep as much of it from Nate as he can, but it spreads and spreads like a virus in his side of the attuned bond.
His gaze drops from Nate, unable to meet the electric blues of Nate’s, instead focusing on the collar of his shirt, on the swirl of a tattoo along his arm from where it rests against Nate’s shoulder. Ek het Haai verloor… Even his mental voice quavers and breaks, his fingers trembling by where they linger on the back of Nate’s neck. I should… I should’ve left her at home and I didn’t and… He shuts his eyes tight, swallowing hard, managing to meet Nate’s gaze with a glimmer of tears in his eyes, the pinch to his brow as the tears begin to overflow. And now she’s dead.
pretending nothing matters, wish i understood
SUNJATA
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.
