to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
Maybe if Loren and her hadn’t bent such barbaric tendencies towards one another, her reaction would’ve been different. Maybe if they weren’t mired down in a thousand other discrepancies, rancor, bitterness, and patchworked feelings, she might have cared about his statements. But those moments were gone, strangled, choked, vanished with the breaking of her bones, and everything thereafter. Besides, she had her own traumatic vows and uncertainties to deal with, rather than his fears, his sorrows. That ship of compassion for Loren had long since sailed, and promptly sunk.
She watched him shiver, and then segmented her eyes back to the puddle. Jaw hardened, tension weighted in the balls of her feet, in the curl of her fists, in the steady, stalwart state of her breathing. “That’s too bad,” she presided, not sounding all that sad about it, watching as the water rippled and churned again, feasting her eyes upon eerie, enigmatic eyes – some wholly familiar – her gaze glancing towards Fangorn, and some reminding her of the mighty gourd they’d taken down last year, before its blighted soul had reached the edge of the Fae woods.
She watched him shiver, and then segmented her eyes back to the puddle. Jaw hardened, tension weighted in the balls of her feet, in the curl of her fists, in the steady, stalwart state of her breathing. “That’s too bad,” she presided, not sounding all that sad about it, watching as the water rippled and churned again, feasting her eyes upon eerie, enigmatic eyes – some wholly familiar – her gaze glancing towards Fangorn, and some reminding her of the mighty gourd they’d taken down last year, before its blighted soul had reached the edge of the Fae woods.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
