Amalia
stop thinking so much
To say she is early would further obfuscate the truth.
To say she is late, while technically accurate, ignores much of the story.
Here's what actually happens: Amalia intends to be on time. Perfectly on time. So much so that when she is ready early, prepared hours before she needs to be, the baker finds herself at something of a loss. She has already finished the daily bake, closed the shop early in preparation for the next day's ventures. The garden is tended to. Her prayers have been said. She has dressed and redressed herself, struggling to determine what one wore on a date, flipping between her three old dresses before settling on a blue one, pretty and delicate, a leftover from her grandmother.
Yet still there remains an infinite stretch of time to fill, and nothing to do with her idle hands, no thoughts except her rising anxiety, her concerns about the evening to come.
So she finds something to do. It is meant to be small endeavor, a simple recipe made slightly more complex by the choices of flavors, the ingredients she selects. But of course, those ingredients require gathering, which means an outfit change back to work clothes, and she is missing another thing she needs, and then she is lost trying to execute her vision-
And the end result is this: slightly late, out of breath, Amalia arrives at Deimos' door. Her dress is replaced by a black blouse and green skirt; her arms are covered in a handful of scratches, and there is a streak of blue across her cheek. Golden hair once pinned now spills undone across her shoulders, flowing down her back. But for all her disheveled appearance she is wonderfully alight, flushed and brazen and utterly delighted with the product of her work. Setting her aromatic baskets upon the ground, the baker knocks on the Reaper's door, an apology lurking beneath her smile, hopeful he will forgive her transgression once he learns what it has bought.
you're breaking your own heart
