Amalia
she was afraid of heights
He takes her admission far harder and more seriously than she intended, and before she can clarify that she has no intention of actually killing herself his hand is on her wrist. Amalia blinks at it in stunned surprise, not sure if she wants to pull away from the touch or lean into it and so settling on doing nothing at all, just staring, silent, as he begins to explain the good things in her life.
And, yes, there are a lot, and each one feels like a slap in the face, a.lash across her back. Deimos' and Jyoti. The bakery. The Prince. She is the Shield of Safrin, has been greeted by Vi, has found a family after losing hers. She is alive- shouldn't these things lead her happy, fulfilled? Shouldn't she be basking in the light instead of drowning under shadows?
What the fuck is wrong with her?
At the end of the day, in a roundabout way, it is her accomplishments that save her. Because somehow and against all odds, the girl has managed to find people who love her. Who believe in her. Who expect things of her. And as much as she may fear letting them down by living, she fears far more leaving them to mourn. Oh, the desire to die is still there, haunting her nights and pulling at her dreams, but she simply cannot act on it anymore.
It's a fact she hates on days like this.
If Loren's response to her admission is surprising, his reaction to her question is heartbreakingly familiar. Amalia looks up as the man pulls away, recoiling into a corner, his hands around his knees. Because he hurt her. Because he tried to do something right and it backfired. Because no matter how hard he tries, tries, tries, it's never enough, he can never erase his mistakes, be more than a failure, be good-
Ah, no, wait. That's just Amalia projecting.
It is her time to move forward, her hand reaching for his knee. Her dark eyes are bloodshot, no forgiveness within them but no anger, either. Looking intently at the man, she Shield tries to catch his eye before murmuring a soft mantra into the space between them, as much for herself as for him. "As long as we learn from our mistakes, we are better than them." And then, an add on, this too for them both in powerfully different ways: "You aren't your family. You aren't her."
And, yes, there are a lot, and each one feels like a slap in the face, a.lash across her back. Deimos' and Jyoti. The bakery. The Prince. She is the Shield of Safrin, has been greeted by Vi, has found a family after losing hers. She is alive- shouldn't these things lead her happy, fulfilled? Shouldn't she be basking in the light instead of drowning under shadows?
What the fuck is wrong with her?
At the end of the day, in a roundabout way, it is her accomplishments that save her. Because somehow and against all odds, the girl has managed to find people who love her. Who believe in her. Who expect things of her. And as much as she may fear letting them down by living, she fears far more leaving them to mourn. Oh, the desire to die is still there, haunting her nights and pulling at her dreams, but she simply cannot act on it anymore.
It's a fact she hates on days like this.
If Loren's response to her admission is surprising, his reaction to her question is heartbreakingly familiar. Amalia looks up as the man pulls away, recoiling into a corner, his hands around his knees. Because he hurt her. Because he tried to do something right and it backfired. Because no matter how hard he tries, tries, tries, it's never enough, he can never erase his mistakes, be more than a failure, be good-
Ah, no, wait. That's just Amalia projecting.
It is her time to move forward, her hand reaching for his knee. Her dark eyes are bloodshot, no forgiveness within them but no anger, either. Looking intently at the man, she Shield tries to catch his eye before murmuring a soft mantra into the space between them, as much for herself as for him. "As long as we learn from our mistakes, we are better than them." And then, an add on, this too for them both in powerfully different ways: "You aren't your family. You aren't her."
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
