she didn't want to love
she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
She cannot say which is stranger: that she is arriving to such an event on the arm of the most dazzling attractive man she has ever known, or that it is happening at all. Stranger yet is the role she is to play in the proceedings, a role her grandmother often stepped into.she wanted to b e l o v e d
and that was entirely different
A role she will gladly take, for them.
The stoic behemoth at her side might insist she is responsible for their attire, but that is far from fact. In truth, Amalia been too busy baking and preparing the words she was to say to put more than a passing thought into what she would wear. When at last the Reaper asked, she panicked, making an offhand suggestion about stars between batches of cupcakes, and let Deimos to his work.
And what magnificent work it was. Amalia glances down at her dress, still bewildered by the beauty of it, feeling unworthy of such finery. a suit of silver, dusted with gold is elegant and star-bright and refined. She wears her long hair in a loose half-braid, the flower comb keeping it from totally escaping its confines. It is how she imagines being a princess might feel, decked in finery and mixing among the radiant, the beautiful.
Smiles and greetings are offered to all, but Amalia is a busy creature, slipping away to make sure the food is set up and the ceremony preparations complete. Once this task is finished she returns to Deimos, still enchanted by the sight of him, and pulls him toward the couple where they wait, surrounded by well-wishers.
A kiss is lad on Remi's cheek, a squeeze on Ronin's hand. "Ready when you are," she says with a shy smile. "Do you have the rings? I have everything else set up by the shrine."
Amalia
we are all b r o k e n
that's how the l i g h t gets in
that's how the l i g h t gets in
