meet me where the falling stars live
I will wait for you day and night
She knows that they are not pleasant words, that it is not something anybody wants to hear or say: you will hurt me. I will hurt you. Perfection is impossible, and at times we will both ache. Once, not long ago at all, Amalia would have shied away from saying it, would have hidden and shielded against the very possibility of pain and distance. She would have risked ruin rather than look upon the flaws and shadows, and thus they might have fallen apart from the inside, rotted until the foundations were gone and any slight blow could shatter their shell.Taking his hand back into hers, Amalia laces their fingers together before raising his knuckles up to her lips. "We will," she exhales against his skin, warm breath fanning out over his fingers as the statement is met with a promise, an oath. She will let him see her broken parts as she puts them back together, expose the places where she is still growing and trust him to nurture them, not drown them in the dark.
He will be implies that he is not, and the baker turns her dark eyes to him, splaying the rough palm over her cheek. "You can tell me." I want to know. The part she does not say aloud hangs clearly in the attuned bond, her gaze earnest and honest as it locks on his, onyx warm in the glow of his blue. Then she sighs, her face dropping again, head falling against his chest, his warmth, the stalwart presence of her bulwark, her Sword. "I fought with Jigano. I think... I said things I shouldn't have."
Amalia
