MELITA
Her eyes narrowed speculatively when he didn’t rise to her bait; either he’d seen through them, or she needed to come up with more convincing angles to taunt with. Marking that in the back of her mind, she let the rest of the portions seize where they fell, a grasp of his skin, a line to be drawn back along water’s edges, and questions that had her huffing or laughing when her mind could concoct a response other than what she intended to test on him. “If they’re not, then they’ve wasted an opportunity,” she chided – though she paused to sidle along the fringes of the pool, purposefully dipping her toes in the water while she tapped on her chin. “And what Honeybee writing would that be? My favorite insults?”Grinning at such a thought, because there were many, she glanced back just in time to see his skin freed once more from the golden sweatshirt. Absorbed in watching the slow freefall, and presuming he was doing it entirely on purpose, she took it in with her greedy, hooded, avaricious little stare, then a feral smile to follow; much too aligned with her current thoughts.
But rather than reach out and take immediately, she dropped the rest of the way into the fathoms, delicately plopping out of arm’s reach. If Iskra could predict what was coming, he probably had an opportunity to escape and evade the eventuality, as she dipped her hand underneath, then rapidly lifted it upwards, slapping a jettison of water his way. Then, subsequently cackling, and swimming across the portions in rapid succession.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
