‘ why don’t you shut up and be quiet? ’ // @boomboombaby
Yara had always been quick to anger. Her mother, when she was alive, said it was the gods’ blood in her veins. A god’s rage burns hot, burns ancient. Yours is the same. She’d never seemed to sway one way or the other in regards to how she felt about her daughter’s anger, but Yara liked to think she hadn’t minded it much because she wasn’t sure who she was without it and the idea that her mother had resented it was synonymous with the idea that her mother had resented her. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to entertain.
So she didn’t expel that rage. She didn’t try to flush it out of her system. She wasn’t sure it would have been possible. She wasn’t sure she would know where to begin. When it came to fire, Yara knew only how to let it burn.
And right now, it was burning bright.
She didn’t think she’d been being exceptionately loud. Louder than everyone else, perhaps, but that was simply who Yara was. In any case, she didn’t think she deserved to be chastised for it. (Yara rarely believed she deserved to be chastised. It had always been one of her most damning problems.) Whirling around to face the woman who’d spoken, Yara shot her a fiery glare. “Why don’t you try to make me?”
(Things were off to a lovely start.)
