She senses his movement even as he makes it but does not turn around, does not look to see his rejection, to watch him watch her walk away. She is surprised, then, to find him in front of her, his large hands on her narrow shoulders, a bulwark in her path. Compliantly the baker stops, her gaze still down-turned, her body tense, awaiting judgment, consternation, blame. I did this. I did all this. I made this mistake. How can she face him, he who is good, he who is strong, a lighthouse, a shelter? What storm has she brought into his haven, what turmoil and tragedy will her presence here wreak. Let me go, her brain is howling; Hold me close, her heart retorts.
He doesn't deserve this, the mess that she is. She cannot let him be a casualty to her despair.
"Maybe it can't be fixed." Her voice is a whisper, a resigned exhalation, shaking beneath the weight of her misery. She closes her eyes, not willing, not able, afraid to have him see her like this, broken and aimless and scattered on the floor. "Maybe I break everything I touch." Maybe isn't part of it- the confession in her voice is absolute, knowledge that this must be a fact. Her relationships, her family, her home, herself-
-She remembers a day she sat on the bone bridge, looking down into the abyss and wondering, wondering, wondering what it would be if she simply took that step.
How much of this would have been prevented, had she not been such a coward, so weak?
Could she have saved him?
Could she still?
His hands cup against her cheek, and she shudders, tears burning hot behind her closed eyes. How strange, that even now he is giving, offering him the things she has never deserved. How, how, does he still not see the deep abyss that the girl is, that all she can do is take and take, destroying everything beautiful and good? I cannot bear to lose you- as though she has worth, as though she is something to be cherished and loved. Unbidden her fingers rise over his, intending to pull them away before faltering, still too selfish, still too weak. "Lose me?" she whispers, laughs, chokes. "You couldn't lose me if you tried."
Sighing, Amalia drops her hands, her dark eyes opening, though they remain downcast. "This is my fault. Everything- everything I've tried to do-" Everything fails. "Zariah was right. I'm nothing- I'm worthless- I... I don't know why I thought I could make a difference."
He doesn't deserve this, the mess that she is. She cannot let him be a casualty to her despair.
"Maybe it can't be fixed." Her voice is a whisper, a resigned exhalation, shaking beneath the weight of her misery. She closes her eyes, not willing, not able, afraid to have him see her like this, broken and aimless and scattered on the floor. "Maybe I break everything I touch." Maybe isn't part of it- the confession in her voice is absolute, knowledge that this must be a fact. Her relationships, her family, her home, herself-
-She remembers a day she sat on the bone bridge, looking down into the abyss and wondering, wondering, wondering what it would be if she simply took that step.
How much of this would have been prevented, had she not been such a coward, so weak?
Could she have saved him?
Could she still?
His hands cup against her cheek, and she shudders, tears burning hot behind her closed eyes. How strange, that even now he is giving, offering him the things she has never deserved. How, how, does he still not see the deep abyss that the girl is, that all she can do is take and take, destroying everything beautiful and good? I cannot bear to lose you- as though she has worth, as though she is something to be cherished and loved. Unbidden her fingers rise over his, intending to pull them away before faltering, still too selfish, still too weak. "Lose me?" she whispers, laughs, chokes. "You couldn't lose me if you tried."
Sighing, Amalia drops her hands, her dark eyes opening, though they remain downcast. "This is my fault. Everything- everything I've tried to do-" Everything fails. "Zariah was right. I'm nothing- I'm worthless- I... I don't know why I thought I could make a difference."
Amalia & Jyoti
WE MIGHT BE HOLLOW, BUT WE'RE BRAVE
