MELITA
Had Melita known she and her sister were the products of the exact thing Adam was describing, she might’ve been more interested. Instead, she just wrinkled her nose, as if dismayed those principles were what people were invested in – when there rebellions to stage, seditions to maintain, vehemence to encounter. She shrugged at the explanation, only the mildest of embarrassed blushes crossing over cheeks (and mostly because she’d asked a stupid question, betraying absolute innocence where in any other regard, she had none). “Oh,” she proffered thereafter, gaze settling on the floor, a quiet snort sifting through her chest. Her inexperience was showing, and it rankled at her a little.So much so that she’d entirely forgotten the quiver to give too – the lovely little notched arrows, bundled up in a collection of five, waiting outside on the doorstep. Without any implication on her part, she dashed outside, not intending to leave him so quickly, so soon, though she heard the I’ll see you later? with all the inquiries and pauses. Her movements were fervent and rushed, sliding along the aperture until she saw them, right where she’d last placed their tipped edges, grabbing ahold and hustling right back. “Sorry! Forgot these too!” Then she offered the artifacts once more, the same grin from before emboldened on her features. “Let me know if you ever want to practice again!”
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
