don't you know i'm no good for you?
Nate tries to sell it, that much Sunjata can tell. But it hurts all the same, that similar edge of a knife being Sunjata’s own state too – except his tends to fall either self-destructive or trying desperately to forget himself and the things he’s done. For now, though, there’s the quiet choked comment as Sunjata scans the mirror that is his husband’s face, the attuned’s lips quivering still as he tries to bite down on his reverberating emotions.
“Okay.” He agrees a bit weakly. They can work on the windows. The idea of somewhere to come back to, however, does spark a brief moment of hope through the dark. So he tries to find it within him to pull himself up, to pull himself out of the dark spiraling emotions that he can’t get out of any other way. He watches without quite seeing his husband stand, watches that hand outstretch before immediately withdrawing and Sunjata hasn’t even moved yet. He isn’t even sure if he’s managed a breath yet. He isn’t even hungry, isn’t sure he will be for a while, but he doesn’t voice that thought. He almost wonders
The tug to the shirt draws him out of it, however little it is, snapping his attention toward the task they’ve chosen at hand. “Yes.” He says quietly, sucking down a deep lungful of breath, wiping at his face one last time, running those fingers through his hair even if the curls were soaking wet, even if water dripped from the earrings in his ears onto his scaled shoulders.
He pushes himself up, he tries desperately to try and give some sort of closeness that he thinks they both need, the ability to maybe just pretend that things were okay even if they weren’t. That mask slides into place, however shaky it is through the bond as he’s sure Nate can tell. He moves back to that sawhorse, grabbing the board that Nate had stumbled over just before they’d both crumpled to the ground. “Do you think this is long enough to fit the windows?” He asks, marking the board with a piece of charcoal to determine the length before he gets to sawing it.
“Okay.” He agrees a bit weakly. They can work on the windows. The idea of somewhere to come back to, however, does spark a brief moment of hope through the dark. So he tries to find it within him to pull himself up, to pull himself out of the dark spiraling emotions that he can’t get out of any other way. He watches without quite seeing his husband stand, watches that hand outstretch before immediately withdrawing and Sunjata hasn’t even moved yet. He isn’t even sure if he’s managed a breath yet. He isn’t even hungry, isn’t sure he will be for a while, but he doesn’t voice that thought. He almost wonders
The tug to the shirt draws him out of it, however little it is, snapping his attention toward the task they’ve chosen at hand. “Yes.” He says quietly, sucking down a deep lungful of breath, wiping at his face one last time, running those fingers through his hair even if the curls were soaking wet, even if water dripped from the earrings in his ears onto his scaled shoulders.
He pushes himself up, he tries desperately to try and give some sort of closeness that he thinks they both need, the ability to maybe just pretend that things were okay even if they weren’t. That mask slides into place, however shaky it is through the bond as he’s sure Nate can tell. He moves back to that sawhorse, grabbing the board that Nate had stumbled over just before they’d both crumpled to the ground. “Do you think this is long enough to fit the windows?” He asks, marking the board with a piece of charcoal to determine the length before he gets to sawing it.
i've learned to lose, you can't afford to
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.
