knew what she was doing when she invited the wild in
Does he? Does Sunjata know it? Because Melita had lived long, long before he’d come into her life, and had survived in her youth, harassed and chased by monsters, desperately trying to save herself, and her sister, from the plaguing demons. She’d lasted all this while without him, and could do so again – she wasn’t weak. Careless, impulsive, and occasionally ignorant? Certainly. But gods did she grind against the soil and howl into the night, a little beast, a spark, a flame, yearning, waiting, for the right stoking to completely unravel and unfurl. To be an inferno; a rapturous, irreverent thing. “He’s not though. He’s not a burden. He’s just stupid.” A sniffle, frustration avid and rampant, a curse on her lips behind all the love she has for these idiots. And the fear too – that she wasn’t enough. That they looked upon her in some insignificant way – that she didn’t belong. “It can’t be better if I’m constantly feeling this way.” When nothing changed.
So she squeezed and held tighter; indifferent to the notion that he couldn’t feel her warmth. Maybe a little bit would slip through. Maybe it wasn’t about the natural way of humans, but the sentiments, the ruminations, buried within. “I'll hold you to that.” She sniffled, but didn’t move away. “Or I’ll have to come find you again.” And quite frankly, naught would stop her.
So she squeezed and held tighter; indifferent to the notion that he couldn’t feel her warmth. Maybe a little bit would slip through. Maybe it wasn’t about the natural way of humans, but the sentiments, the ruminations, buried within. “I'll hold you to that.” She sniffled, but didn’t move away. “Or I’ll have to come find you again.” And quite frankly, naught would stop her.
Melita
