Lion Head Mesa Hate [m]e baby, maybe I'm a piece of art

A voice like hot red stone. Melody looked up into blue eyes and was struck speechless by them for a moment, immediately turning shy and wide-eyed. Something about him spoke wordlessly of violence, she thought.

Oh, um - nothing! Nothing, really, She hurried to dry her tears, but the reminder of them caused a fresh welling of heat in her eyes. Everything is fine. Um. Melody willed herself to stop crying, but there was no halting it. She forged ahead nonetheless. I'm - I'm Melody. Who are you?