i'm not a whole person, and i dont think i ever will be
parts of me died in the house i grew up in
There is a warning, albeit not entirely a long one. He can still spy the focus given to him by the hunger devouring Nate’s pupils as he looks up to him, even through the dizziness that has taken its hold. He’s burning, taught like a string, until he gives in before he can’t hold on anymore. He shudders as he breaks, releasing the hold he’d tried so carefully to have, and Nate takes it easily. A growl escapes him, hips and thighs shaking and trembling beneath the pressure, a growl of relief slipping from his throat and he focuses on the man the best he can, though his mind is swimming and he feels so far away despite being right here.
The arm that holds him up against the desk trembles, muscles flexing as he tries to gasp for breath, feeling the tender kiss along the bite mark to his thigh before Nate rises. The Ascended has the height advantage in this position, and Sunjata finds he doesn’t care about that at all. All he can do is focus on Nate’s face, hand at his throat still despite his harsh attempts to swallow and gasp for breath.
But Nate’s hand leaves him to support him, the rough demand in the Ascendeds voice reverting him in such a delicate state that he does manage to push off the desk a small amount, pulling himself closer to the Ascended and an attempt to shift his legs that feel like lead until his head rests at Nate’s collarbone, the claws to his hands leaving as he takes them both and wraps them around the Ascended’s lower back for support, rasping and trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t even know what to say, what he will say when he can find it in him to say anything at all.
Or maybe it’s the fact he’s simply lost too much blood, too sick to catch his breath fully and try to recirculate the oxygen in his veins.
The arm that holds him up against the desk trembles, muscles flexing as he tries to gasp for breath, feeling the tender kiss along the bite mark to his thigh before Nate rises. The Ascended has the height advantage in this position, and Sunjata finds he doesn’t care about that at all. All he can do is focus on Nate’s face, hand at his throat still despite his harsh attempts to swallow and gasp for breath.
But Nate’s hand leaves him to support him, the rough demand in the Ascendeds voice reverting him in such a delicate state that he does manage to push off the desk a small amount, pulling himself closer to the Ascended and an attempt to shift his legs that feel like lead until his head rests at Nate’s collarbone, the claws to his hands leaving as he takes them both and wraps them around the Ascended’s lower back for support, rasping and trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t even know what to say, what he will say when he can find it in him to say anything at all.
Or maybe it’s the fact he’s simply lost too much blood, too sick to catch his breath fully and try to recirculate the oxygen in his veins.
& i visit them in dreams
SUNJATA
