to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Truth be told, when Iskra had struck the ‘week in Halo’ deal, she’d expected more…indoor activities. Hot chocolate. Curling up next to the fire and annoying him about something. Taking his clothes off next to said fire. She didn’t complain though, not when the townsfolk seemed to be out of doors at almost all hours regardless, keeping and tending to everything as if winter and Deepfrost hadn’t set forth a chilling deluge. It wasn’t as cold as before, so she hadn’t stolen too many of his layers, instead occupied herself with some of those sturdier, fleece-lined pants on over her leggings and a very cute Ludo sweater underneath the heavier parka; showing it off to him and him alone she supposed.The Honeybee conjured a litany of things to speak about, haphazard little subject lines that might gain traction and saving the heavier bouts for when they returned to his lodgings. “So I talked to my uncle, sounded like he was going to go to Frey after all that shit,” handwaving the puncturing lines about dead hearts. “And then remember the drama going on at Flora’s party? There’s more with that,” and she likely would’ve continued, had she not begun noticing little ice carvings everywhere.
They didn’t seem marked by anything in particular. Just a vast variety. Snowmen. Miniature Citadels. An occasional dragon or ursur. “These are fun,” pointing to one that resembled either a disheveled unicorn or bear – something had gone awry somewhere and the creator must’ve given up or saved it for another day. Turning her gaze back to Iskra, her grin went wide, either ominous or imploring. “Can we make one?”
to be the sun
MELITA
