you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
It is a nice change of pace to have Adam there. Despite the tension of their last adventure Amalia finds his presence soothing, his lack of interest in larger affairs something of a relief. Too often these days time spent with her friends is centered around catastrophe: stopping the blight, salvaging the Spire, praying to gods and looking for salvation in the darkest recesses of the world.
It is nice, sometimes, to take a moment and remember what it means to simply live.
"Supplies?" Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Amalia begins to scrape the dough off her counter and transfer it to a bowl to rise. Maybe it is this distraction that leaves her confused by his explanation, her eyebrows furrowing in obvious bemusement as he suggests they get high and chill. "High? Like flying?" But he can't fly, and now the girl is more confused than ever, too naive and sheltered a child to understand the implications of what Adam is offering.
Shrugging, the baker shakes her head, wiping her hands on her apron. Adam knows her well enough he can probably see the weariness on her face, shadows underneath her eyes and a weight upon her shoulders. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she places her head on the palms of her hands and glances wistfully at where Jyoti is eagerly harrying Coffee to play. "It would be nice to have a break," she admits, her voice tired.
It is nice, sometimes, to take a moment and remember what it means to simply live.
"Supplies?" Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Amalia begins to scrape the dough off her counter and transfer it to a bowl to rise. Maybe it is this distraction that leaves her confused by his explanation, her eyebrows furrowing in obvious bemusement as he suggests they get high and chill. "High? Like flying?" But he can't fly, and now the girl is more confused than ever, too naive and sheltered a child to understand the implications of what Adam is offering.
Shrugging, the baker shakes her head, wiping her hands on her apron. Adam knows her well enough he can probably see the weariness on her face, shadows underneath her eyes and a weight upon her shoulders. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she places her head on the palms of her hands and glances wistfully at where Jyoti is eagerly harrying Coffee to play. "It would be nice to have a break," she admits, her voice tired.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
