Amalia
The quiet constancy of Sera at her back goes a long way to calming Amalia down, though unprocessed grief still courses through her, radiant and electric in its ferocity. She keeps her red-rimmed eyes on the road ahead, another shaky laugh almost escaping her lips. Friends- are they that? Is she doing well? The color on her cheek shifts and changes, less frantic now and more quietly pleased, shy and hopeful and a little afraid. "You make it easy," is the soft response, her alto tones warm with appreciation.
Baking in a home sounds wonderful. This time Amalia's smile is genuine, only the edges of sorrow still written over her lips. "I- only if you don't mind," she murmurs, rubbing a hand over her wrist and turning bright, hopeful dark eyes to the other woman. "I have some ingredients in my rooms we can grab? I've been wanting to try some of the native flavors- is there anything you especially like?"
Baking in a home sounds wonderful. This time Amalia's smile is genuine, only the edges of sorrow still written over her lips. "I- only if you don't mind," she murmurs, rubbing a hand over her wrist and turning bright, hopeful dark eyes to the other woman. "I have some ingredients in my rooms we can grab? I've been wanting to try some of the native flavors- is there anything you especially like?"
