to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita liked it when she was the wicked one, not the individual beginning to stew, and she didn’t hide her pout when she spotted the amused punctures beginning to unfurl across Aithne’s face. Perhaps she should’ve just done all of this on her own and called it good; no one but herself would’ve been asking such questions. And she certainly wouldn’t have had to mull over answers.Placing more of the rose arrangements within the box and studiously not looking back at the Ancient, her brows furrowed, as if she was granting the exercise great concentration. “Oh, lots!” she gave by almost nothing. “He’s my best friend,” and much more than that, but that was for her to unpack and gauge and scrutinize, and she didn’t want to flounder and squirm right there in front of Aithne, incapable of attaching another label until they had actually talked over things, rather than…well, no she’d liked that too.
Dusting her hands off like they’d accomplished something incredibly difficult, she glanced down at the box and all its distinctions. “Well, that looks great! Thanks for all your help!” And if it looked like she was escaping, then so be it, as she hoisted the crate up. “Let me know if you ever need something!”
[FIN]
to be the sun
MELITA
