& oh, poor atlas - the world's a beast of a burden
Her smile only widens, if that's possible, the pleased flush on her cheeks positively rosy in the light of the shop. Much like a child on Christmas morning she's floored and delighted by this series of gifts, glancing between Finn and Roland and back to Finn as she rocks on her heels, holding the guitar gingerly between her hands. "Yeah, I'll be careful," she promises brightly, pulling the instrument against her chest.
They say their goodbyes and make it back to the bakery with little incident, the guitar guarded carefully against the rain. And when Finn finally takes his leave Amalia is still far from a musician, but she can play out a handful of chords. More than that, the Shield is happy, for she has made a friend. A friend who doesn't value her because of who she's known as, a friend who doesn't expect her to be more than what she is.
Or so she believes, as she watches him leave. But my, how wrong she is.
{Finnigan}
They say their goodbyes and make it back to the bakery with little incident, the guitar guarded carefully against the rain. And when Finn finally takes his leave Amalia is still far from a musician, but she can play out a handful of chords. More than that, the Shield is happy, for she has made a friend. A friend who doesn't value her because of who she's known as, a friend who doesn't expect her to be more than what she is.
Or so she believes, as she watches him leave. But my, how wrong she is.
{Finnigan}
you've been holding on a long time
