Running out of air

She watches him fall into the chair, collapsing as though all that held him together was denial of the truth she aired. And she lets him, slowly stepping into her own actions, dousing a cloth in water and wrapping it around her arm before grabbing a dry one to mop up the spill. Work is good; work is routine; while muscle memory fuels her actions her mind is free to race. She comes around to the front of the counter, still cleaning up what would have been tea, wincing slightly as damp fabric rubs against her skin. Amalia does not look up as Jigano apologies, not at first, afraid of what he might see in her face. He offers to go, and she considers agreekng, sending him away. How can she carry his burdens today, when she is already drowning beneath her own? Amalia does not turn him away. It is not in her nature: the Shielf of Safrin is too involved, unable to step away from a friend. Swallowing down her hurt and tears and fear the girl softly sighs, rising to stand and face Jigano, her expression quiet, her black gaze soft. "If you want to continue living in the past and feeling sorry for yourself, go. "If you want to move forward, if you're ready to stop waiting for the world to punish you and make the hard choice to do better, stay." a m a l i a You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there