Amalia
the shield of safrin
"I could try." Reaching up with a slender arm now covered in smooth pink skin, Amalia runs her finger along invisible currents of the air. It doesn't matter much that the water is choppy, or that the realiatic likelihood of accomplishing this goal is slim to absolute none. They have always survived by looking to the future, or at least she is-- running away from each mistake and toward the promise of this time being a success.
Her hand drops down again, and it is her time to close her eyes, exhaling through her nose. "I didn't know if you would want to see me," she admits softly. "Either of you. If it would be like..." Like last time. Like after Aoife died. If she would be met with warmth or vitriol, especially from the Alchemist. "I thought you might want space."
Her hand drops down again, and it is her time to close her eyes, exhaling through her nose. "I didn't know if you would want to see me," she admits softly. "Either of you. If it would be like..." Like last time. Like after Aoife died. If she would be met with warmth or vitriol, especially from the Alchemist. "I thought you might want space."
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
