knew what she was doing when she invited the wild in
“Ooh, yes please.” A contented smile, haphazard and based solely on the moment, sparked and sizzled while they worked, before everything else went up in flames.
And that was just it – wasn’t it? All of these instances could be so easily shattered and rendered into nothing. It’d happened to her so many times before that it should’ve been mere happenstance – one loved, one lost – but it never made it any easier, any harder, and her jaw started to clench, the layers peeling away one by one.
I don’t want to be without you.
But she couldn’t voice it, couldn’t say it, because maybe some part of it was selfish and she was a tempestuous little demon, longing and searching for those aspects of family, and no matter what she did she simply couldn’t hold onto them. Melita doubted Sunjata would survive without Nate either – and she almost didn’t want to pierce through that void at all. To let the favor slide by. To not let it rest on her shoulders, that were already uncertain and unsure and unsteady with the way the earth tilted, with the way she was rebuffed time and time again for trying. For striving. For daring to be a flame, a cinder, in the wakes of ash and dust.
But her bottom lip trembled still, quaking, either threatening to be a volcano, a typhoon, a flood, or any decree, degree of the elements. The steadiness barely lingered, a breath inhaled on sharp angles and yearning for defiance. “I have to hear it first.” And pretend it wouldn’t ever happen.
And that was just it – wasn’t it? All of these instances could be so easily shattered and rendered into nothing. It’d happened to her so many times before that it should’ve been mere happenstance – one loved, one lost – but it never made it any easier, any harder, and her jaw started to clench, the layers peeling away one by one.
I don’t want to be without you.
But she couldn’t voice it, couldn’t say it, because maybe some part of it was selfish and she was a tempestuous little demon, longing and searching for those aspects of family, and no matter what she did she simply couldn’t hold onto them. Melita doubted Sunjata would survive without Nate either – and she almost didn’t want to pierce through that void at all. To let the favor slide by. To not let it rest on her shoulders, that were already uncertain and unsure and unsteady with the way the earth tilted, with the way she was rebuffed time and time again for trying. For striving. For daring to be a flame, a cinder, in the wakes of ash and dust.
But her bottom lip trembled still, quaking, either threatening to be a volcano, a typhoon, a flood, or any decree, degree of the elements. The steadiness barely lingered, a breath inhaled on sharp angles and yearning for defiance. “I have to hear it first.” And pretend it wouldn’t ever happen.
Melita
