SUNJATA
the flood
'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
He wonders belatedly what else she’s heard tonight, but he doesn’t comment on it because something about the way she clings to him seems to suggest that now is not the time when their minds are still fuzzy from the alcohol. But he holds her against him still, even as she tells him that it looked like they made up, and he doesn’t know if that’s entirely true. It isn’t until she sits up enough to look at him that he stills, brows pinching together as he looks at her and his expression shifts to one of further confusion as she continues on.
Sunjata doesn’t love easily. Especially these days. And it’s that thought that has his throat tightening as if in proof that he could never truly be happy. He’s always going to have those vast canyons of missing pieces of people that had left too soon. “I’m not.. I-” He cuts himself off, heaving a sigh and looking away from her as if he can hide himself when he speaks, because his throat suddenly feels like gravel sits within it. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be happy, Isla.” There might be times, but even now he can’t find it in him to think of a day where he doesn’t feel so empty, so hopeless. He can’t think of a day where the nightmares won’t plague him and he’ll wake up thinking that everything’s fine.
“I’m always going to love her, but…” It’s the few and far between brutal honesties that Sunjata can offer right now, whether or not he should. “I don’t even know if… It’s the same for her. Or if it’s just toying with old wounds just to feel something again.” His head tilts slightly to look back at her, an expression that’s unreadable as his jaw sets tight.
Sunjata doesn’t love easily. Especially these days. And it’s that thought that has his throat tightening as if in proof that he could never truly be happy. He’s always going to have those vast canyons of missing pieces of people that had left too soon. “I’m not.. I-” He cuts himself off, heaving a sigh and looking away from her as if he can hide himself when he speaks, because his throat suddenly feels like gravel sits within it. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be happy, Isla.” There might be times, but even now he can’t find it in him to think of a day where he doesn’t feel so empty, so hopeless. He can’t think of a day where the nightmares won’t plague him and he’ll wake up thinking that everything’s fine.
“I’m always going to love her, but…” It’s the few and far between brutal honesties that Sunjata can offer right now, whether or not he should. “I don’t even know if… It’s the same for her. Or if it’s just toying with old wounds just to feel something again.” His head tilts slightly to look back at her, an expression that’s unreadable as his jaw sets tight.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
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.
