Amalia
stop thinking so much
If only he could see it, the things she sees in him. If only the flaming, molten core that burns within him like an inferno could glisten and break and shine through the ice, as clear as crystal in her eye.
Maybe it's for the best he is shuttered, she thinks, tilting her head with a distant smile. Maybe the world isn't ready for anyone or anything so good.
Maybe she isn't ready to share.
All those thoughts are pushed away, buried as Deimos rises to his feet, hoisting the girl into the air. She chirps her surprise, squawking indignation as her body is swung high, swung around with effortless grace by the man whose strength she trusts in full. Still she grasps his forearms tightly, grinning, laughing, gleeful with delight. Dizzy, her feet touch lightly on the floor and she falls into the now vacant chair, still laughing, still grinning, her knees pulled up to her chest without thought, exposing almost all of her legs and placing her head on her knees. She does not miss the hitching of the towel, a rumble of something like disappointment rising from her chest.
Amalia watches as he meanders, tracing his steps with her ardent eyes. By the time he returns with the covered basket Amalia is ready to reveal her treasure. And so with no little amount of aplomb she pulls back the towel to show what lies within: freshly baked lemon and blackberry muffins, with goat butter and jam set on the side. Not so lavish as he may have expected, and for a moment the girl is anxious, expectant, trying as hard as she can to keep from staring as she waits for the judgment that is destined to come.
you're breaking your own heart
