to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita frequently threw caution to the wind; extended out over branches and limbs without the thought of the circumstances that could send her spiraling downwards. But Iskra always seemed to be there to catch her, regardless, and all the relief fluttering about her ribcage then felt strikingly stupid for having been amidst apprehension in the first place. She knew better, but simultaneously, she didn’t; one of those instances of understanding Iskra, but not the entanglement they revolved in, needing that support, that comprehension, that reassurance, before everything else could hasten tangibly; smoother sailing for the conflicted and confused. Even the way he glanced at her, as if these moments had been certain all along, and she was the only one that had been rattled and bewildered, made her snort, rolling her eyes inwardly at her own antics. But she preferred it in the open; potentials she didn’t need to regard warily now. Her eyes lit up at the prospects of things she’d dangled taken and snagged, head tilting a little to regard him again. “I can plan it!” she offered thereafter with a bright chirp; he didn’t need to be the one to take up the mantle at each point (unless he preferred it that way; potentially a safer alternative to what she’d “plan”, based on the current circumstances of his workshop). “Maybe some of the leaves will have changed there?” She didn’t know how it all worked, but magical considerations were always a part of the enclosures; perhaps they’d been based to alter along with the seasons, if that was something he wanted to see too.
His nervous motions thereafter though left her laughing; nothing high pitched or obnoxious, but light, airy, wondering how they’d managed to launch and leap over certain steps and then forget some entirely. New, unexplored terrain together then, leaping off the sides of cliffs with what they knew; she was fine with that. Her tastes were ports in storms, even when they were gliding along the tempest with her; grounded portions she was safe within; a steadfast, vigilant portion of strength and diligence, marked by intrepid resolve. Someone that knew her, and she could name him too. Fingers clenching over and around his, she glanced up into his stare, gilded eyes enthralled with his courage and forthright abilities, focused solely on him, wanting to ensure he heard and understood each word she uttered, spoke. “I meant what I said,” as always, veracity a ferocious thing flickering from the Honeybee. “You have my heart. Had it for a long time. It’s only ever been you.” Ignoring the wayward flush to her cheeks, the easy way he simply said it all again and again, she would have to learn what it meant to be so encompassed by love; cherish it too, when it’d been unknown for so long. On tiptoe, she reached upwards for her lips to caress over his; to seal the measures for what they were striving to accomplish. Only breaking away momentarily, she hummed under her breath, granting half a grin. “Could be a dangerous place,“ by her side – but then she winked. “But I’ll take you.”
to be the sun
MELITA
