born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow
The room is a mess, the bright LongHeat light somehow only making it that much worse. It would be so much easier to hate him if he didn't look so gods-damned sad. Looking down at the small and trembling mass that is Finn, Amalia can already feel her anger slipping away, replaced by a dull and aching exhaustion that makes her want to cry. But no, no, she came here for answers, and his sweet injured puppy act can't fool her any more.
She shuts the door behind herself, more instinct than actual desire for privacy, and stalks toward the unmade bed. "Get up, Finn," Amalia snarls, prodding the blanketed mass with her baguette. "You... you lied to me. I'm furious with you." Except it's beginning to sound less like she's furious, and more like she needs to convince herself and him that it's true.
She shuts the door behind herself, more instinct than actual desire for privacy, and stalks toward the unmade bed. "Get up, Finn," Amalia snarls, prodding the blanketed mass with her baguette. "You... you lied to me. I'm furious with you." Except it's beginning to sound less like she's furious, and more like she needs to convince herself and him that it's true.
shield of safrin
