Amalia
A deeper conversation is all I want from you-
Shield.It began as a low whisper, a rarely repeated refrain. Shield of Safrin- as though she we're worthy of being anyone's shield, had strength or conviction enough to stand guard against the rising tides of ruin, protect the world she loves. Amalia does not see herself fit to be anyone's shield, their hero, their bastion. She has not done enough to earn the faith and blessing of Vi.
Not yet. Not yet. But soon.
She recognizes his knock: another game, another dance, a symbol shared for them alone, a secret language with unsaid rules. Amalia is awake at dawn, baking being a morning sport, a job best done before people wake and begin to worry about how they will sustain themselves for the day. Today the girl is simply attired, brown breeches and a blue shirt, her long hair pulled back in a plait. Barefoot, with her staff in her hand, she slips away to the back of the shop, trusting the bake to finish itself.
She has a date, after all.
Amalia steps out into the leafchange morning with a deep inhale, relishing the cold air as it fills her lungs. Jyoti is happy too, delighted that the weather is finally cooling down and she does not need to hide indoors. Starlit and star-wreathed, the pair approaches the early morning behemoth, a smile on the girl's face and a happy song from the little whale.
"Good morning," she murmurs, letting her fingers graze over his before rising on her toes to offer a kiss, her lips ghosting gently, happily, over his. A hair from his mouth, she pulls back just enough to gaze mischievously at his face. "What's the agenda for today?"
- I want the words you're afraid to say:
the lonely ones you keep hidden
between the folds of your heart
