to be lit up from within
vein by vein
Melita had only met Safrin once before, trailing after Sunjata amongst and amidst the wintry wonders of Halo – mainly to ensure he didn’t commit to something idiotic. It had been a wondrous surprise, to see the lady of the stars in all her glory, a highlighted beacon across the cosmos. “She’s quite beautiful,” and Melita hummed under her breath, not much else to regale, save for the little ivory stones to match the momentous occasion. She’d kept those tucked away though, furtive and secretive. But the question wasn’t extended back to her, so the girl fell silent, casting a rock out into the water with a quiet little plop in between plumes of heat and curling ventures.Unaware of what Safrin had proposed or regaled the stranger with, the honeybee child was forced to merely tilt her head, stare over the hues towards Arialla. For the youth, who’d lost too many things over time and worlds, her preference veered heavily towards moments of memory, of pleasant figments, unwarped, uncalloused by everything else falling apart around them. A soft smile alighted again, and she threw another pebble, watched it sink like the other. “I would rather have something familiar, then nothing at all.”
to be the sun
MELITA
