She was ice and stone in his arms, and she had every right to be. He had done this, had made her feel as though she couldn't reach out to him. He had done it again and again and again. Was this to be the time when she finally stopped trying? It would be only what he deserved, if so. She was Safrin's Shield now, she had Deimos and Kiada, a real family, and she didn't need him anymore, with all his mistakes and complications and neediness. He was a mess of sharp edges and poorly-stitched puzzle pieces, good intentions that broke in waves against the shore of his fear and guilt, and every time he thought he had finally found his way to higher ground he slid right back into his old, bad habits.
Amalia was not perfect, but she was so much better than him at being what people wanted. Not effortlessly, no, but instinctively. She was kind where he was pushy, humble where he was arrogant, gentle where he was brusque, and faithful where he was filled with doubts. He wanted so desperately to protect that, to be protected, but in so doing he only pushed her further away.
He didn't know how not to. He had spent too long pushing people away. Years, knowing that he didn't deserve to be loved or protected. Since coming to Caido he had learned the lie of that; he did deserve love, if only because those he had given his heart to believed that he did. He trusted them where he couldn't trust himself. But perhaps because he didn't trust himself he wasn't able to fully trust anyone else, either, no matter how dearly he loved them.
She didn't look at him, but she spoke words of truth so sharp that he flinched. He hadn't realized that he had been so transparent, but she wasn't wrong. He lived a life built on fear - not just for her, but for Rory as well, and Kiada and Sam, Melita and Remi... He bowed his head in guilty acknowledgment but as she trailed off he caught himself at the wounded silence that followed. It dug into his chest, raw and aching, and her apology was too much.
She did not want to be held, so instead he knelt before her, taking his knees in a smooth motion as he looked up to those downcast eyes, dark as the hours before dawn when the stars were at their most brilliant. "No," he said quietly but firmly. "This isn't your burden to bear. I am afraid, and that is not your fault. I am bound by my past and I... I don't know how to free myself from it." It was not the admission he wanted to make, but how was he different than anyone else, really? He was far from the only one with a tragic history. Amalia had her own portion of loss and pain that she had survived, and she didn't lash out as he did. No, this was his problem, not hers. "But that is on me, not you. You are beautiful and bold and strong, and I... I have cast too much shade over your light. Over and over again." Why did he always have to make her feel so small? She was so much greater than he would ever be, and he couldn't help but wonder at how much higher she would already be flying if he hadn't been in her life, dragging her down.
He took a shaking breath and let his own head fall, sitting back on his heels as he did so. "Tell me, Ama, please. What do I do, when you try to say something?" He needed to hear it. Not guess, not assume, but to actually hear it. For once, he needed to listen and let someone else speak.
Amalia was not perfect, but she was so much better than him at being what people wanted. Not effortlessly, no, but instinctively. She was kind where he was pushy, humble where he was arrogant, gentle where he was brusque, and faithful where he was filled with doubts. He wanted so desperately to protect that, to be protected, but in so doing he only pushed her further away.
He didn't know how not to. He had spent too long pushing people away. Years, knowing that he didn't deserve to be loved or protected. Since coming to Caido he had learned the lie of that; he did deserve love, if only because those he had given his heart to believed that he did. He trusted them where he couldn't trust himself. But perhaps because he didn't trust himself he wasn't able to fully trust anyone else, either, no matter how dearly he loved them.
She didn't look at him, but she spoke words of truth so sharp that he flinched. He hadn't realized that he had been so transparent, but she wasn't wrong. He lived a life built on fear - not just for her, but for Rory as well, and Kiada and Sam, Melita and Remi... He bowed his head in guilty acknowledgment but as she trailed off he caught himself at the wounded silence that followed. It dug into his chest, raw and aching, and her apology was too much.
She did not want to be held, so instead he knelt before her, taking his knees in a smooth motion as he looked up to those downcast eyes, dark as the hours before dawn when the stars were at their most brilliant. "No," he said quietly but firmly. "This isn't your burden to bear. I am afraid, and that is not your fault. I am bound by my past and I... I don't know how to free myself from it." It was not the admission he wanted to make, but how was he different than anyone else, really? He was far from the only one with a tragic history. Amalia had her own portion of loss and pain that she had survived, and she didn't lash out as he did. No, this was his problem, not hers. "But that is on me, not you. You are beautiful and bold and strong, and I... I have cast too much shade over your light. Over and over again." Why did he always have to make her feel so small? She was so much greater than he would ever be, and he couldn't help but wonder at how much higher she would already be flying if he hadn't been in her life, dragging her down.
He took a shaking breath and let his own head fall, sitting back on his heels as he did so. "Tell me, Ama, please. What do I do, when you try to say something?" He needed to hear it. Not guess, not assume, but to actually hear it. For once, he needed to listen and let someone else speak.
