to be lit up from within
vein by vein
In an idle sense, Melita did wonder what had become of Saiden. Mainly by bouts of curiosity, imagination capable of drawing all sorts and semblances of possibilities; from the one-eyed crotch-scratching cook wandering off and working for another ship, to gambling his other line of sight away and meandering blind somewhere. But there was no way of knowing, and maybe one day he’d simply stroll back in as if nothing was the matter. Her question drew naught anyway; her gaze angling back towards Milo as he answered. She didn’t frown and furrow her brows, tucking her legs neatly in front of her, rounding an arm over her knees, humming under her breath. “Which ones?” Her head tilted, all inquiry without menace or measures otherwise.
to be the sun
MELITA
