Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Her head lifted slightly, at the mental image of Rexanna and Bastien being together again. Perhaps that was the only thing that brought a smile to her face in that moment – because, yes, that’s what the artist had ached and hoped for. “Well, I hope they’re at peace now.” No inclinations towards a war brimming and brewing beyond, no semblances of skirmishes and upheaval from two individuals who’d never yearned or crave for such violence.
The grin went away rapidly, immediately thereafter. “But what about Azrael…,” a quiet, contemplative murmur, a rarity from the sprite.
Half-distracted from that particular, newfound melancholy, she passed the stones over to Darkeye without argument, and hands went to pick up her lantern pieces, sliding them back into the bag. “Oh. Where are your tools?”
The grin went away rapidly, immediately thereafter. “But what about Azrael…,” a quiet, contemplative murmur, a rarity from the sprite.
Half-distracted from that particular, newfound melancholy, she passed the stones over to Darkeye without argument, and hands went to pick up her lantern pieces, sliding them back into the bag. “Oh. Where are your tools?”
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
