shards of iron and ice

MELITA

Melita wondered why on earth he was even down here in the marketplace, bothering her, striving to pick a fight. "Don't you have anything else to do?" Perhaps she was right in holding her grudge, her bitterness, in this instance, if he always acted like such a condescending dick. Despite her attempt at moving forward, at moving on, at moving away, he was either incapable of taking a hint, or there was more at play here. Her eyes narrowed, ignoring half of the things he said, taking in a massive breath, glancing at strangers as they roamed by. An accusation of her being a hypocrite was intriguing – wouldn’t be the first time (Wessex had leveled that upon her before, and then the girl was a bit more apologetic – here though, with this ridiculous, inept, asinine man? No.), nor probably the last. But she bit. “How so? I’m implementing a great amount of control right now.” It was loosened on a snarl, on a glint of malice in her eyes.

help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts