Aamu
He misses warmth: he hasn't thought about it much lately, but his relative isolation since being reawakened suddenly has him yearning for it when Nate casually presses against him there on the step and reminds him of it. Hip, shoulder, odds and ends as one does when sitting close to someone else: impersonal pressure is all he feels. Dull and dead. Aamu's knees press together and he leans forward a little. "Mmh," he agrees with a grimace as Nate bumps against him. He's not the one actually suffering, though.
Aamu hedges a glance Nate's way. He seems a statue, stone in the moonlight, hard-eyed. And this time it's Aamu's turn to say "well, shit," though he actually reaches around the other man to give Nate a bit of a half-hug. "Now that's rough. Safrin's a right bitch." Worse than the moon.
He doesn't like it, but things are starting again: history repeating itself. And Safrin.. Sunjata... It makes him feel sick, terrified, angry, all manner of things he can't get out. "What happened?"
Aamu hedges a glance Nate's way. He seems a statue, stone in the moonlight, hard-eyed. And this time it's Aamu's turn to say "well, shit," though he actually reaches around the other man to give Nate a bit of a half-hug. "Now that's rough. Safrin's a right bitch." Worse than the moon.
He doesn't like it, but things are starting again: history repeating itself. And Safrin.. Sunjata... It makes him feel sick, terrified, angry, all manner of things he can't get out. "What happened?"
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
