[Training] no one told you to breathe

MELITA

She lifted her glass to him to be refilled, and then slid quietly back into pondering, into assembling the next response into her mind. It came with a sense of eerie trepidation, and only because of the patterns she’d seen before. Maybe the apprehension and sentiments would be for nothing- and he’d only be a mechanism of action (but something in her blood wound like a spring, and perhaps he’d wandered too close to fire and flames and cosmos again). The youth settled the impending question on the tip of her tongue, brows furrowing slightly, attempting to parse through roles in these schemes and games. “Is that what you asked to be?” Some weapon of the goddess? And what did that signify? That he was at her beck and call to bloody his hands if she yearned, craved, and wished for it? Was it something she’d proclaimed him to be instead, a bestowal, an honor, for everything he’d done?

The honeybee girl had her suspicions, and the unease coiled amongst them – understanding, knowing temptation, and impetuous design – the way it bled through both of their lines – but this seemed beyond foolish. Sadly, exactly something Sunjata would do.

help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts