LOREN
Last time Amalia had seen Loren, he’d at least possessed some semblance of happiness. However, that had been before meeting Frey. Before his conversation with Remi in the pit. Before the Launceleyn had once again gone and ruined his life through his own folly. He’d ignored all his instincts, the ones that told him he was a monster, bad news, that he would hurt anyone he let close. And he and everyone around him had paid for it.
Now, his cheer was gone, washed away by everything he’d been through recently; in its place, it had left exhaustion and a deep and abiding emptiness where his heart and soul had once been. Oh, sure, he went through the motions, still took care of everything he was supposed to, still came out to pray to gods he didn’t trust and didn’t quite believe him. But when he turned his gaze to her, she’d see that it was blank and dead. It was an accurate representation of his insides, at least.
Still, the baker hadn’t done anything wrong, and so despite his bone-deep need to avoid any and all contact, he mustered up the energy to respond to her in as polite a tone as he could manage. ”Hello, Amalia. Just leaving, actually.” Hopefully that would be enough to get her to leave him alone, even if his voice had come out in more of a pained whisper than he’d intended. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to return her soft expression or her smile. Still, most people he spoke to recently got the hint that he wasn’t exactly in the mood to exchange pleasantries or even to talk at all. He’d provide his magic, his skills, his expertise.
But inside, his thoughts were dark and his emotions darker. And he'd already said more than enough. Best to stay silent from now.
Now, his cheer was gone, washed away by everything he’d been through recently; in its place, it had left exhaustion and a deep and abiding emptiness where his heart and soul had once been. Oh, sure, he went through the motions, still took care of everything he was supposed to, still came out to pray to gods he didn’t trust and didn’t quite believe him. But when he turned his gaze to her, she’d see that it was blank and dead. It was an accurate representation of his insides, at least.
Still, the baker hadn’t done anything wrong, and so despite his bone-deep need to avoid any and all contact, he mustered up the energy to respond to her in as polite a tone as he could manage. ”Hello, Amalia. Just leaving, actually.” Hopefully that would be enough to get her to leave him alone, even if his voice had come out in more of a pained whisper than he’d intended. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to return her soft expression or her smile. Still, most people he spoke to recently got the hint that he wasn’t exactly in the mood to exchange pleasantries or even to talk at all. He’d provide his magic, his skills, his expertise.
But inside, his thoughts were dark and his emotions darker. And he'd already said more than enough. Best to stay silent from now.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
