Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Her fingers, while still nimble and formidable with the long stems and petals, traced over the foundation with deliberate measures in his line of sight – sometimes going over them several times before moving on to next steps. “Well, yeah,” she scoffed at the ‘Ludo thing’ of it all. “Except now it’s disappeared, so,” she’d taken it upon herself to ensure it could be plucked away and back to where it belonged. Which was stalled out for the moment, while gathering information and necessities before she could beeline back to Mort. “Besides, I have a hard time with continuing fun shit while I know it’s gone. I know I’m supposed to, but, worrying and all that.” As if she couldn’t quite keep up a ready façade of amusements and water balloons and mildly disastrous exploits, if her herald was still in the midst of this enigmatic mystery. “Does that make any sense?” she glanced back at him, understanding it wasn’t quite the same for Frey exploits.
Snorting at the notions that she’d given him said testaments, she then huffed a sigh, adding another crimson flower amongst the gold. “Listen, sometimes I take my own advice.” As she nudged him back with her own elbow, eyes narrowing in concentration, trying to wage war with feelings and the tides of impending clarity. “I also feel bad when it’s a constant onslaught of shit though. I imagine it gets fuckin’ old listening to ‘hey guess what else happened today’.” Or all at once. But at his offer, she tucked another smile on her face, likely not lingering for long, but there just the same. “Thanks. I think I’ll feel better once I have more information and I can talk to Mort again.” Perhaps get a plan going.
Snorting at the notions that she’d given him said testaments, she then huffed a sigh, adding another crimson flower amongst the gold. “Listen, sometimes I take my own advice.” As she nudged him back with her own elbow, eyes narrowing in concentration, trying to wage war with feelings and the tides of impending clarity. “I also feel bad when it’s a constant onslaught of shit though. I imagine it gets fuckin’ old listening to ‘hey guess what else happened today’.” Or all at once. But at his offer, she tucked another smile on her face, likely not lingering for long, but there just the same. “Thanks. I think I’ll feel better once I have more information and I can talk to Mort again.” Perhaps get a plan going.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
