she had magic in her eyes even the stars envied
The baker is one to feel envy, and she cannot help but feel a pang as he speaks of his own stars, easy confidence and affection in the way he talks about his family, his world, his love. Seated on the roof Amalia shifts again, sighing as she becomes a girl and tucks her knees against her chest, turning her own wistful gaze to the sky.
"I wish I had that," she confesses softly, though she seems to catch the way it sounds quickly. "Not that- I have Deimos, and I love him-"
She stops again, turning crimson as realization dawns. She has never said it to anyone else, not out loud, not in so many words. I love him, and her whole heart fills with it, spilling it across the bond, ardent rapture and awed devotion and disbelief at her luck.
But beneath it all is another thread, dark and insecure. Because despite their promises she is afraid: afraid that he will change his mind, afraid that her happiness is doomed, afraid that he will realize she is not, cannot be, has never been enough.
Shrugging helplessly, Amalia sighs. "I'm glad you're happy, Remi," she says, quiet and sincere.
"I wish I had that," she confesses softly, though she seems to catch the way it sounds quickly. "Not that- I have Deimos, and I love him-"
She stops again, turning crimson as realization dawns. She has never said it to anyone else, not out loud, not in so many words. I love him, and her whole heart fills with it, spilling it across the bond, ardent rapture and awed devotion and disbelief at her luck.
But beneath it all is another thread, dark and insecure. Because despite their promises she is afraid: afraid that he will change his mind, afraid that her happiness is doomed, afraid that he will realize she is not, cannot be, has never been enough.
Shrugging helplessly, Amalia sighs. "I'm glad you're happy, Remi," she says, quiet and sincere.
