Amalia
the shield of safrin
Deimos may be spartan in decor, but he has invited Amalia to live with him now, a request which, if serious, will result in certain changes. Speaking of which- as the Shield takes the vase from him she frowns slightly in thought, suddenly uncertain, insecure, not sure whether to push the issue or simply let it lie.
As Drimos finishes preparing breakfast Amalia arranges the boughs, placing them in the middle of the table, a decoration to keep them company as they eat. Sliding into a seat at the table, Amalia leans over on her elbow, a smile on her lips. "I could get used to this," the girl murmurs, her eyes raking playfully and appreciatively over Deimos' exposed skin. "Especially if... if I do start spending more time here. If you still want that. Because I... I really do."
As Drimos finishes preparing breakfast Amalia arranges the boughs, placing them in the middle of the table, a decoration to keep them company as they eat. Sliding into a seat at the table, Amalia leans over on her elbow, a smile on her lips. "I could get used to this," the girl murmurs, her eyes raking playfully and appreciatively over Deimos' exposed skin. "Especially if... if I do start spending more time here. If you still want that. Because I... I really do."
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
