Amalia
'Because you seemed so sad.' Amalia smiles crookedly, something bittersweet in her face. At the end of the day, this is what they are: two broken children, scarred and destroyed, always putting the world before themselves. Will they crumble, one day, from the inside out, find their foundations hollow with rot because they have not let themselves air out, have not looked at their hurt and found the strength to heal?Maybe that is why they need each other: to bully and beguile and tear at the armor, expose the broken pieces beneath and allow the flesh to breathe.
She squeals with laughter as he spins her around, and continues to laugh at his tale. A concussed proposal is not far from what she might expect these days, in this place, with the world falling around their ears. "Of course he said yes," she grins in reply. "It's obvious to anyone he adores you, Remi." Once again guilt squeezes her at almost leading him to risk his hide. Amalia never could have forgiven herself if she'd caused him to die again.
Listening to Remi gush and giggle, the baker cannot help but relax. Slipping at last out of his grip, she moves behind the counter and takes out cups, preparing to make some tea. "A sunset wedding sounds perfect. We often have them at sunset anyway, for Safrin..." Something catches in her throat; Amalia shakes her head. She will be well, by then.
The question about weddings in Caido is a loaded one, and Amalia leans against the counter, thoughtfully spinning her empty cup. "A strange ordeal?" Tilting her head, the baker frowns a little, humor in her eyes. "Sounds like everything else in Northaven. Here they're joyful celebrations - or at least, the ones I've been to all were."
she was like the moon-
part of her was always hidden away
part of her was always hidden away
