Amalia
She brings a small supply of items from her shop, auxiliary, excess: paint and embroidery thread, baking supplies and herbs and flavors, flowers and candles and glass and cloth- more, perhaps, than initially planned, but never let her be accused of under-preparing for such an event.
Despite her over preparation, Amalia allows Deimos to take charge, content to aid, to follow direction and lend a hand as needed. Which isn't to say she is apathetic or disinterested: on the contrary she delights in the process, quietly glowing with warm, eager pride as he takes the festival and makes it his own.
Their own- and oh, how much so.
Co-hosting, co-planning- coupling, in short, a truly strange thing. Amalia sits on a table surrounded by her excess of wares, her dark eyes glittering as she glances over at Deimos, a bright smile blooming beneath her rosy cheeks. Always- and the rest of it hangs unsaid, even in the silent bond. Always ready, with you here.
Despite her over preparation, Amalia allows Deimos to take charge, content to aid, to follow direction and lend a hand as needed. Which isn't to say she is apathetic or disinterested: on the contrary she delights in the process, quietly glowing with warm, eager pride as he takes the festival and makes it his own.
Their own- and oh, how much so.
Co-hosting, co-planning- coupling, in short, a truly strange thing. Amalia sits on a table surrounded by her excess of wares, her dark eyes glittering as she glances over at Deimos, a bright smile blooming beneath her rosy cheeks. Always- and the rest of it hangs unsaid, even in the silent bond. Always ready, with you here.
don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light
