but there's chaos brewing
underneath my skin
Concentration honed in the furrowing of her brow, she almost didn’t notice Nate until he addressed her. Her eyes lifted back to him, a slight, friendly smile following, not sliding back into petulance (yet). “Yes. I’m Melita. You?”
Then of course, because luck hadn’t been on her side lately, several strikes into her motions had her shovel completely, utterly snapping. Maybe everything had been too much: her rage, her strength, her frustration, or simply misfortune. She snorted and shook her head, picking the pieces up, and dropping them off where the other shovels laid. The girl grabbed hold of another, testing its weight once or twice, before returning. This time she attempted from a different direction, digging back in, hoping this would prove successful this time.
--
Melita tries digging a hole again, but with a new shovel!
Then of course, because luck hadn’t been on her side lately, several strikes into her motions had her shovel completely, utterly snapping. Maybe everything had been too much: her rage, her strength, her frustration, or simply misfortune. She snorted and shook her head, picking the pieces up, and dropping them off where the other shovels laid. The girl grabbed hold of another, testing its weight once or twice, before returning. This time she attempted from a different direction, digging back in, hoping this would prove successful this time.
--
Melita tries digging a hole again, but with a new shovel!
trying to hold in the storm
instead of making waves
MELITA
