i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
being pulled by the moon in a high tide
He doesn’t mean for it to come out like this – in brash, honest truths that bring the stinging to her eyes. It’s part of the reason why he still can’t look at her, can’t let himself see just how much his admission affects her. But her words are something he can’t avoid, not locked in an endless pit of nothing but ghosts anymore, and he works his jaw as he nods his agreement. Because he can’t either – its as much as he’d admitted to Isla. He always would. It wouldn’t change.
But as she mentions forgiving the rest, well, he agrees. The past was the past. And while a different version of Sunjata would pettily refrain from ever forgiving her for the things she did and never acknowledge his own part in it, this one is malleable. He’s tired of losing everyone.
Her questions are valid, too, even as he dips his chin a little lower, as if ashamed of the answer he so selfishly wishes to say. “You didn’t.” He agrees when she mentions that she wasn’t the one that closed the last door. And it takes him a few moments to gather the thoughts he wants to say, to make sure it’s exactly as he wants them to be. She’ll give him the time, he knows this.
“Because I needed to try and grieve and move on. And it took two years to realize how exactly stupid it had been. And I’ve been reminded recently that maybe I need to try and stitch up those connections I had before the war, for those that care.” Like Melita, like Bartholomew, like Isla even – despite that being her mind. He needed to realize and understand that people cared and he needed to try and let them in, to try and fix things.
“After the last time we spoke I wasn’t sure if you were…” Going to make it. Goes unsaid, but the implication is clear how destroyed they had been. Him, after Nate. Her, after Enzo and the bombshell of Nate. Not too far from here on the Ahi Coast, where the waves were just as tempting to lose themselves in forever rather than try and figure out this new future. “And I can’t go to Halo.” Not with Deimos there. Sure, he could have sent a letter, but how was he to know that she’d even harbor the same feelings? How was he to know that maybe she wanted to cut her losses and move on once she got a handle on things while he remained empty and hopeless, a dark splotch of ink over the pages of pristine fresh paper.
So, he clears his throat and focuses on her, taking all of his willpower to do it, huffing an unamused laugh that only sounds sad. “I am a shell now, Hotaru. Who wants to deal with that?” He doesn’t want to be a burden placed on someone else just because he’ll never stop grieving. But gods, is he selfish, selfish, selfish.
But as she mentions forgiving the rest, well, he agrees. The past was the past. And while a different version of Sunjata would pettily refrain from ever forgiving her for the things she did and never acknowledge his own part in it, this one is malleable. He’s tired of losing everyone.
Her questions are valid, too, even as he dips his chin a little lower, as if ashamed of the answer he so selfishly wishes to say. “You didn’t.” He agrees when she mentions that she wasn’t the one that closed the last door. And it takes him a few moments to gather the thoughts he wants to say, to make sure it’s exactly as he wants them to be. She’ll give him the time, he knows this.
“Because I needed to try and grieve and move on. And it took two years to realize how exactly stupid it had been. And I’ve been reminded recently that maybe I need to try and stitch up those connections I had before the war, for those that care.” Like Melita, like Bartholomew, like Isla even – despite that being her mind. He needed to realize and understand that people cared and he needed to try and let them in, to try and fix things.
“After the last time we spoke I wasn’t sure if you were…” Going to make it. Goes unsaid, but the implication is clear how destroyed they had been. Him, after Nate. Her, after Enzo and the bombshell of Nate. Not too far from here on the Ahi Coast, where the waves were just as tempting to lose themselves in forever rather than try and figure out this new future. “And I can’t go to Halo.” Not with Deimos there. Sure, he could have sent a letter, but how was he to know that she’d even harbor the same feelings? How was he to know that maybe she wanted to cut her losses and move on once she got a handle on things while he remained empty and hopeless, a dark splotch of ink over the pages of pristine fresh paper.
So, he clears his throat and focuses on her, taking all of his willpower to do it, huffing an unamused laugh that only sounds sad. “I am a shell now, Hotaru. Who wants to deal with that?” He doesn’t want to be a burden placed on someone else just because he’ll never stop grieving. But gods, is he selfish, selfish, selfish.
the flood
that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?
am i a villain or a saint?
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.
