MELITA
Despite her feral grin, she didn’t want him to laugh it off. The girl yearned for him to believe it, for more than a second, to be more than a smoldering flame burning at both ends, idiotic and daft, stupidly rampaging his way through dramatic turns. She narrowed her eyes at him, at this moronic piece of work, tempted to ball her fist and throw it into his shoulder, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Easier to parse it all away on chuckles instead of looking underneath, peering into where he needed to lift himself out of these damned ethers. So a sigh followed and flickered, a shake of her head, uncertain if voicing her concerns would hold any weight, merit, or worth. If it would just hasten off into more stupidity, as if she said nothing at all. Get your head out of your ass, you idiot passed through her mind, but with so much uncertainty now, she didn’t give it any voice. But then there were gifts, things she didn’t deserve, unwrapping, unfurling her parcel as Sunjata took the one she proffered, and in the wake of the monumental bestowal, hers seemed so minute, so insignificant. The pearls were instantly recognized, as if they’d both played one another in that realm, seeking out favored items while rummaging and pretending, but the set of daggers were something new, something wonderful. “These are too lovely.” Maybe she shouldn’t accept them. Not after just giving him a simple rock.
She's so hard to please
But she's a forest fire
But she's a forest fire
