The sound of laughter pulsing into the landscape was harmonious and silly, a reckless endeavor sparked by similar facets, features, and figures – she was wild in her freedom, in her ardent, unabashed movements and motions, and he presided in the same stead, varnished and lacquered amidst dynamic chuckles. The child would have calculated her play and impulses until the ends of the earth, energetic and coaxed into oblivion by the singsong paradise of diversion and amusement, led directly into flames and fire because it was everything she wanted, intoxicating, tempting, inveigling. But he moved again, and all of her riveted pieces had to cling back to his motions, watching the long-drawn arc of his massive wings and their eminent plumage (somewhat like hers, marked by some of the same hues, and her eyes were scorched on their marks, on their patterns, on the similarities between the two – almost stretched hers out to see if they matched, to see if one end could fold into another). Swiftly, before she could even react, the feathers swept beneath her chin, hoisted her jaw upwards, and her stare was pinned directly into his before she was smothered, pushed into his chest.

She understood none of it; but held her breath against the thick hair and the layered tassels, suddenly very still, very rigid, very taut, unsure and uncertain of what was brewing in the midst of their shuffles and chaos, from splashes to embraces. However, she could’ve sworn when her gaze had met his, that she’d seen fear and apprehension: ghosts of ill-confidence sauntering, shifting, slithering into the jubilant refrains, encasing them in the unknown. She knew what that was like, had considered the sentiments on more than one occasion (for she enjoyed peering into the obscure, but was never sure of what would come from it), yet, couldn’t puzzle over why he’d reflect the measures of foreboding. Curiosity, an eternal spark in her churning, brewing, brimming cauldron of a mind, stoked and fed the inquiries, the questions, billowing, flowing, echoing past all the oddities, the strangeness of the movement. Then, seemingly as abruptly as he’d cloaked and veiled and shielded her with the strength of his frame, it all flickered away, spread down toward her sides, leaving the girl rattled, addled, confused. There was something between all these layers and nuances, a spread of sentiments she couldn’t quite fathom and understand. It was like a spider web, and she pushed her way through the maddening, ivory threads, striving and reaching, because that’s all she’d ever done. She dug into the earth, stubborn, obstinate, a bristling little Titania in the making, with her fairy wings and gossamer potential, with her brimstone abilities lying in wait. She stayed there, raising her head again so her stare solidified on his (gold and red, like bleeding, gilded marks of rubies and stones), and wondered; fed the frenetic blend of yearning, of longing, of pondering until the question pervaded through her mouth and blossomed into the air; staying there like an anomaly, neither hushed or deafening. “Did I scare you?”

Melita

diamond in the flesh