to be lit up from within
vein by vein
She’d seen the fatigue; an unusual sentiment written on Harper’s face. She’d known him to be someone sunlit and content, cheerful and charitable. But based on the words pouring out from him, too many things had been situated in his mind, in his life, to maintain those balms of ebullience. And she might’ve softened a little, taking and biding her time, rather than boldly proclaiming something she shouldn’t – because she only knew the bare minimum of Maeve’s disappearance, of Edmund no longer lingering in Torchline. So she rounded over to the feelings, a precipice she knew well; of raw parameters that stuck and shorned, of flames that scorched and unfurled and gods, sometimes she didn’t give a single fuck on who she burned in the process. [sat]“So go ahead, be angry. It’s an emotion. Not around them, but…out here,” she gestured plainly to the dark landscape, to the flickering of fire. “You can throw shit if you want. I won’t tell.” Hell, in his place, she would’ve done far more than that.
Though the way he pinpointed back to her made her eyes narrow, a flare of dangerous wandering. “No, I move ahead.” Didn’t sink into her uncle’s measures. Had tried so desperately to get any of them to understand. And then, merely carried on, forging onward –
Her jaw clenched. “So what are you going to do then?”
to be the sun
MELITA
