to be lit up from within
vein by vein
It was for the best that her invisibility contorted over sound and senses; he would’ve been able to hear the sudden snap of her grin, the molten edges of her heart. At his laugh her pulse quickened, granting herself a modest pat on the back, before settling in to watch, witness him placing things together – her gaze flickering back and forth from dog to man, and then settling on the latter. There could’ve been a whole assortment of responses and retorts; maybe a backlash or recoil for the sheer amount of things laden about his shop, hands ripping apart streamers or poking holes in balloons. But she knew Iskra, and he knew her, and the unpredictable chords were part of the dance.Goose gave him no answer, and she snorted, granting a laugh that wouldn’t reach his ears. Wholly delighted, even at the furrow of his suspicious brow and the cautious turn as if she might pop out of nowhere, she rose from her crouch, standing along the counter, a towering inkling of chaos. Only when he called out for her, summoned like a demon, did she reappear – tangible again, brightened smiles and shout from her wooden throne. “SURPRISE!” On that note, she tossed out the confetti she’d kept laden in her hands; pieces of roses she and Aithne had turned into slivers of reverie, hues of blue, white, and yellow to match her impending gift.
to be the sun
MELITA
