to be lit up from within
vein by vein
“Ohhhh, the rodeo,” she hummed indistinctly, her gaze catching on more in the crowd beginning to wave their arms around, clearly trying to figure out what was going on. On impulse, she fired another shot of water straight into the back of someone’s head – barely muffled a loud laugh as a wig came toppling off and away, onto the pebbled ground. “Are you participating again?” Having no shifts of her own, she and Iskra had been purely entertained – though if she recalled, she was pulling pants down on the last interim. For the chaos. As for her fault in all of this, of which there was none, she’d only meant it as an apology for the shit he was going through yet again. One could place blame and fault on his relationship lines several times over, but not upon these fragile distinctions. Not when he was just there, waiting, wondering, and biding his time with a thousand questions and no gods damned answers. “Yeah, well. It still sucks,” she shrugged, now taking the opportunity to blast several more streamlined portions of water so the wig looked like it was trying to escape.
Trying to find a way back into fun – or fuck, just something less depressing, her gaze went back to him for a moment while the women below kept shrieking. “Anything you want for the dinner party? We could try and theme it or something.” Food and drink wise anyway – or maybe it’d just be a potluck fest.
to be the sun
MELITA
