i'm going back to my roots
another day, another door, another high, another low
rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
another day, another door, another high, another low
rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
The breath of a chuckle almost worries him more than anything else his father’s done tonight – but Sunjata had been fired up, retaliating, uncharacteristically talking back. So he shouldn’t be surprised when the hand flies out to grab his jaw, forming bruises back into the freshly formed ones, making new ones as he hisses and winces, squinting up at his father for the brief moment they’re connected before he’s shoved back and he topples backward again. His head throbs, his chest aches and his throat grows tight as his father continues to speak.
He is wise enough this time to keep his mouth shut, though every part of him wants to scream back at his father with a that was the whole point! and it’s not a lie!. But he keeps his jaw shut, lets the grinding of his teeth ache with the bruising that at this point is now red and vibrant against his skin. And he stiffly starts to pick himself up from the floor as his father thumbs through the papers, his gaze downcast as he listens and masks himself to prevent anything from slipping through.
Numb is what he aims to be, and it’s numb that has him responding with a nod, lifting his gaze to meet his father’s own steel if only to prove that he’s been listening and understands. “Yes, sir.” It comes out better than he anticipates, not as weak as he feels he is inside from it. But he says nothing more until his father’s dismissal has him departing, escaping into a faux solace of his rooms, to clean up and become proper again and realize the mistake he made with coming back up to the Plates.
He'd have been better off staying down below, letting everyone think he’s gone missing or dead.
(Done <33)
He is wise enough this time to keep his mouth shut, though every part of him wants to scream back at his father with a that was the whole point! and it’s not a lie!. But he keeps his jaw shut, lets the grinding of his teeth ache with the bruising that at this point is now red and vibrant against his skin. And he stiffly starts to pick himself up from the floor as his father thumbs through the papers, his gaze downcast as he listens and masks himself to prevent anything from slipping through.
Numb is what he aims to be, and it’s numb that has him responding with a nod, lifting his gaze to meet his father’s own steel if only to prove that he’s been listening and understands. “Yes, sir.” It comes out better than he anticipates, not as weak as he feels he is inside from it. But he says nothing more until his father’s dismissal has him departing, escaping into a faux solace of his rooms, to clean up and become proper again and realize the mistake he made with coming back up to the Plates.
He'd have been better off staying down below, letting everyone think he’s gone missing or dead.
(Done <33)
SUNJATA
