to be made of sunshine is beautiful
to be the light and the warmth and to be loved
His quip didn’t land particularly hard, a snort ensuing, following suit. She’d said it anyway, and wasn’t taking it back. “Purely based off my experiences with you.” Quite frankly, she didn’t want to know him well enough. He seemed like a spiraling mess, constantly up and down, and she wasn’t sure how anyone ever knew where they fit in his mercurial moods. While Melita would always admit to having a temper, she didn’t blatantly go out of her way to rile and provoke someone (unless it was Kiada; and their history was far more extensive). Loren just seemed to poke needlessly. “Not sure. I don’t know you well enough.” No sneers, no jeers, no other reaction save for the slightest narrowing of her eyes. But the danger wasn’t there, coiling in her blood. Just acceptance of the inevitable, of a man she wasn’t sure she would ever want to understand.
She didn’t expect the apology though. It caused her gaze to form into naught more than gilded slits, presuming something else was afoot, suspicious, and specious. The youth certainly wasn’t sorry for her actions, and a fake, forced segment of regrets wouldn’t make any of it better. She’d asked him to back off, and when he hadn’t, she’d been well within her rights to ensure he did. She’d do the same to anyone acting in a threatening, odious, ridiculous way. The girl wasn’t even certain she could, would, accept it, if it meant anything at all, if she was supposed to let go of her grudges. So the honeybee child nodded, and perhaps that was some modicum of forbearance.
She didn’t expect the apology though. It caused her gaze to form into naught more than gilded slits, presuming something else was afoot, suspicious, and specious. The youth certainly wasn’t sorry for her actions, and a fake, forced segment of regrets wouldn’t make any of it better. She’d asked him to back off, and when he hadn’t, she’d been well within her rights to ensure he did. She’d do the same to anyone acting in a threatening, odious, ridiculous way. The girl wasn’t even certain she could, would, accept it, if it meant anything at all, if she was supposed to let go of her grudges. So the honeybee child nodded, and perhaps that was some modicum of forbearance.
to be made of sunshine is painful
to be too hot to touch, too far away to reach
MELITA
