Maea
Stars, hide your fires
It was an excellent showcase of how turbulent her emotions were, that she could go from apprehension to frustration into blazing fury and then laugh in relief and genuine amusement over the span of a few minutes. No wonder they overwhelmed her. No wonder the internal fireworks were confusing people - they confused her, too, and while it really was a good feeling to let them out to play, Maea felt raw and vulnerable for it, too. Like the way her stomach filled with butterflies as Sunjata slipped down from his perch to kneel beside her, looking every bit the charming rogue she'd once fallen head over heels in love with. It was silly and foolish because she'd rather chop her hand off than reach for him again, yet a part part of her heart would always have his name carved into it. Inextricably, no matter how she raged against it - and for perhaps the first time in her life, Maea surrendered to that lingering affection. Allowed herself to simply feel it, and found... that it was light as a feather. Golden and bright and entirely her own, free of conditions and independent of what he might feel or say or do - a gentle flame that needed no fuel to keep burning.
"That's it, then. I've changed, my work here is done - " she jested merrily, dusting off her hands in a dramatic gesture like she'd just done a hard day's work. "Thank you," she added, softening into a more sincere expression. "For taking the time to listen. It makes a world of difference to voice these things in a safe space." Somewhat surprisingly, it appeared that he still was that. For all the hurt and resentment that'd muddled things between them, he'd never actually betrayed her trust or failed to try when she'd needed help. Even now, long after he should have given up on ever getting through her thick skull... here he was.
Reclining onto her elbows, Maea contemplated the scars on his face and the gray strands silvering his hair. Faintly aware of a bright scent of lemons and mint that came drifting on the wind, she inhaled and felt refreshed; it reminded her of something sweet and mellow, honey melting on the tongue – and she almost laughed again when she realized what it was. Cough drops. That's what he smelled like.
"Jata... do you think there's any hope of us being friends again?"
"That's it, then. I've changed, my work here is done - " she jested merrily, dusting off her hands in a dramatic gesture like she'd just done a hard day's work. "Thank you," she added, softening into a more sincere expression. "For taking the time to listen. It makes a world of difference to voice these things in a safe space." Somewhat surprisingly, it appeared that he still was that. For all the hurt and resentment that'd muddled things between them, he'd never actually betrayed her trust or failed to try when she'd needed help. Even now, long after he should have given up on ever getting through her thick skull... here he was.
Reclining onto her elbows, Maea contemplated the scars on his face and the gray strands silvering his hair. Faintly aware of a bright scent of lemons and mint that came drifting on the wind, she inhaled and felt refreshed; it reminded her of something sweet and mellow, honey melting on the tongue – and she almost laughed again when she realized what it was. Cough drops. That's what he smelled like.
"Jata... do you think there's any hope of us being friends again?"
Let not light see my black and deep desires
