born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
There is no lust that bubbles in Amalia's belly, no eager heat and scorching desire for hedonistic things. There is only want, aching and hollow, a place in herself that she's tried hard to fill with different shapes and faces. It is a place that Finn could live for a time. She could wrap herself around him and hold him close, protect him and hold him as her edges fray and she grows transparent and finally tears, leaving them both exposed.
She did that once, with someone else. Held on until she tore.
His arm is heavy and oppressive on her waist. His breath is sweet, but also sickly, cloying and filling her lungs. She can feel him filling her, drowning her, looking at her and seeing only the bright side of the moon.
"You don't know me," Amalia whispers, drawing back so the bridges break, their faces coming undone. "I can't save you. I haven't saved myself."
She did that once, with someone else. Held on until she tore.
His arm is heavy and oppressive on her waist. His breath is sweet, but also sickly, cloying and filling her lungs. She can feel him filling her, drowning her, looking at her and seeing only the bright side of the moon.
"You don't know me," Amalia whispers, drawing back so the bridges break, their faces coming undone. "I can't save you. I haven't saved myself."
shield of safrin
