meet me where the falling stars live
I will wait for you day and night
"No. You don't." Maybe there are people who will demand warmth and kindness from him, but Amalia would rather he not pretend to feel things about her that he obviously does not. Half-smiling wryly, she tilts her head. "You don't even like me. You don't have to pretend. Just, y'know. Don't be an asshole for no reason." Being sad is fine. Being angry is fine. But playing stupid games of cruelty and name calling? That she does not want to deal with. She doesn't have the strength.Loren's comment about perfection was likely meant to be serious, but Amalia cannot help it: she laughs aloud in response, a kind sound without mockery, but clearly amused at this new logic. Shaking her golden head, the Shield fixes him with a warm stare. "I think you'll have to keep working on the perfect cruelty bit. Or don't. Maybe put all the energy you're putting into being perfect toward figuring out how to be happy." Big talk from a girl with an inferiority complex a mile wide, but Amalia has been trying to practice what she preaches.
And then, again, he denies her invitation to eat. It is almost enough to make her throw up her hands in exasperation and aggravation, to shake his shoulders and demand to know what it is he wants. Instead she exhales a sharp sigh, closing her eyes a moment before shrugging. "Suit yourself," the Shield allows, turning to walk back toward her shop. "But you know where to find me, if you change your mind."
Amalia
