to be lit up from within
vein by vein
She didn’t want her emotions to be noticed; preferred to let them quietly simmer and burn against her. Because they were stupid and feral, caused only by her own insecurities, apprehensions, and experiences, closing her eyes, willing the tears to simply cease and desist. The youth didn’t expect the embrace to follow, but he must’ve heard, must’ve known, and her jaw clenched, tight against the backdrop of salt threatening to overwhelm and consume. Her head sunk somewhere along his shoulder, breath hitching, hands curling into fists as she fought herself. Melita was stronger than this, and hadn’t survived hardship after hardship to be waylaid by her own efforts. But gods, it hurt.So she listened instead, about short swords, about pearls, about being remembered (sometimes, she wondered, down in the pit of her stomach, if anything she ever did ever mattered, if it left a line, a scorch mark on the horizon, or if she simply was nothing after all). Then he pulled back, and she couldn’t hide her tear-streaked cheeks, try as she might as she drew one hand to dash them all away. “Okay,” the girl breathed slowly, in and out, watery, gilded gaze meeting his.
to be the sun
MELITA
