I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map
& I knew that somehow I could find my way back
She doesn't answer his rhetorical question; of course she does, as much as the prospect of leaving a cripple terrifies her. But Loren's sudden burst of rage catches her off guard, and the wry amusement quickly fades, hardness left in its place. She should feel lucky, and the fact that she doesn't is further testament to how entitled, how foolish, how wrong she is. She should count the blessings that she has: legs, life, a comparatively clean conscience.
Right now, though, she just feels shitty, and she wishes he would tell her that it's okay. Wallow with her instead of against her; allow her to be his comrade in guilt, rather than his competition for most wounded soul.
But it is Amalia's fate to always come up short - she's not even the best at having a bad day.
She watches as he begins to string together straw with telekinesis, holding back another joke about how he hardly needed her for this. Instead Amalia dutifully begins the bottom of a basket, not skillful but clearly experienced enough as she creates a network of strands to weave her connecting reed between. It's hard, slow work, but her hands aren't so shaky anymore; she can feel the effects of Loren's magic, the strength it lends her body. Carefully, stubbornly, she snakes the twine until she has about an inch worth of woven base, and beads of sweat upon her brow.
Right now, though, she just feels shitty, and she wishes he would tell her that it's okay. Wallow with her instead of against her; allow her to be his comrade in guilt, rather than his competition for most wounded soul.
But it is Amalia's fate to always come up short - she's not even the best at having a bad day.
She watches as he begins to string together straw with telekinesis, holding back another joke about how he hardly needed her for this. Instead Amalia dutifully begins the bottom of a basket, not skillful but clearly experienced enough as she creates a network of strands to weave her connecting reed between. It's hard, slow work, but her hands aren't so shaky anymore; she can feel the effects of Loren's magic, the strength it lends her body. Carefully, stubbornly, she snakes the twine until she has about an inch worth of woven base, and beads of sweat upon her brow.
then i heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
so I stayed in the darkness with you
Amalia
