[Se] I need color

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Melita was ever the nosey inspector, taking her time to glance and look at each side. Each seemed to signify them well – Bastien painting, Rexanna modeling, the saying sweet. She smiled, pondering, tilting her head vaguely. “Maybe Rexanna can have a crown. She was quite a noble queen.” A distinction and honor, to be fair and trusted, well before the war ever decided to descend upon their doorsteps. Otherwise, she couldn’t see anything else warranting correction. Per the review, she smiled, head tilting. “Everything looks great. Do you need anything else?” Eager, and probably restless, to help and assist – an easygoing distraction rather than gnarled and knotted memories.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me