to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Despite the changes to his being, far more than she’d likely ever understand, there were still the amiable graces conformed to the Alchemist. Some days she wondered about him, what happened, what transpired, conspired the alterations to his core, to his soul, and despite all the insistence in her curiosity, in her emboldened prowess, she never gave them a voice. Her eyes went to the spot beside him, to his features as he accepted her offer, and then the slightest smile warmed up her features, as she drifted down next to his form. Her legs curled before her, arms on knees, as the rest of her dress billowed around her ankles, restless hearts staring out at the sea, at the void, at the sky without its stars, beheld in endless shadow. Fangorn bumbled along, resting amidst her feet, grumbling a greeting to the man before closing his eyes.She rested her head on her arms, turning, tilting slightly to glance upon him, gilded gaze fully intent, failing to narrow in their precision – rather, they were vivid and bright, like pieces and snippets of the sun. Too much drinking was an understandable melee; especially now, and her breath was soft, light, words dulcet in the lack of fire and flames. “How are you?” She could supply roots of conversation, to dazzle and undermine any morose conjectures, but didn’t want to without knowing how he was.
Her grin grew, blossomed, with his smile reflecting back upon her. “You’re welcome. I don’t mind hard work.” A wink extended, meant to be back into days of familiarity, when everything was so much lighter, when shoulders weren’t weighed down by trial after trial.
to be the sun
MELITA
