you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
Does Amalia have skeletons in her closet? Not particularly fun ones, certainly- traumas and mistakes, hard words and broken relationships, with some childhood mischief thrown in for good measure. The couple of times she had been drunk, and it ended disastrously.
Safrin's cold voice telling her she is nothing.
Adam's voice is warm, and it's here, and she clings to it, relishing the easy way he jokes with her, the brightness of his grin. Perhaps it is vulnerability which makes her so hasty to agree, throwing aside her usual caution in favor of a potential mistake.
He asks for somewhere soft to sit, and she tilts her head curiously, raising a wary and bemused brow. "There's my bed?' the girl suggests, suddenly nervous, Adam being one of only two men who have ever slept in the tiny structure. "Or we could go outside, but it's cold." From where she plays with Coffee Jyoti gives a trill, excited by the prospect of going back into the chill. It is easy for Amalia to don a coat of fur, but Adam does not have the same protection. Anxiously she pulls at her apron before realizing she ought to take it off. Or should she? Will she be able to work, high? Will she be able to do anything? How long will it last, how strange will it be, how sick will it make her?
Maybe she should have thought this through.
Safrin's cold voice telling her she is nothing.
Adam's voice is warm, and it's here, and she clings to it, relishing the easy way he jokes with her, the brightness of his grin. Perhaps it is vulnerability which makes her so hasty to agree, throwing aside her usual caution in favor of a potential mistake.
He asks for somewhere soft to sit, and she tilts her head curiously, raising a wary and bemused brow. "There's my bed?' the girl suggests, suddenly nervous, Adam being one of only two men who have ever slept in the tiny structure. "Or we could go outside, but it's cold." From where she plays with Coffee Jyoti gives a trill, excited by the prospect of going back into the chill. It is easy for Amalia to don a coat of fur, but Adam does not have the same protection. Anxiously she pulls at her apron before realizing she ought to take it off. Or should she? Will she be able to work, high? Will she be able to do anything? How long will it last, how strange will it be, how sick will it make her?
Maybe she should have thought this through.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
