Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
She considered again, weighing out the details and parameters in her mind, keenly spying upon the lantern once more. “Nah. I think with those additions it’ll be perfect.” Crouching down, eyes keen and steady, her level of interest and intrigue in anything slicing or dicing remained, holding her attention eagerly, fervently, as the older man went about cutting the stones once more. Clean and proper, diligent and careful; something the honeybee could probably stand to study and understand, given her propensity for impetuousness.
When that seemed finished for the moment, her restless energy coiled back to the forefront. “Do you need anything else for it?”
When that seemed finished for the moment, her restless energy coiled back to the forefront. “Do you need anything else for it?”
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
