A spoonful of sugar

She's imperfect, but she tries She is good, but she lies She is hard on herself She is broken and won't ask for help It isn't about where she'll go, what she'll do. The place doesn't matter- it's about who she is, and right now that person simply isn't ready to face the outside world. Shaking her head at the invitation, Amalia reaches down for Isuma's neck, burying fingers in the thick leopard fur. "I have a home," she replies, smiling crookedly, the expression far away from her eyes. A home she isn't ready to face. It feels like they're far away from each other again, and the distance is exhausting. She's trying to let him in, to show a little of her rawness, but he does not seem to want to look- and who can blame him for that? He's tried before and she rebuffed him, too stubborn and selfish to relent when she should. It's that same stubborn foolishness that led to her being here, spine shattered and legs immobile as she stares at the ceiling and tries not to cry. If only she could have lost feeling in her heart, rather than her legs. "How are you holding up? After... Everything." LongNight. Their fight. Becoming abandoned. The carnage at the festival. The fall of the Temple. How are any of them surviving, after all they've seen? Can they ever be the same? a m a l i a She is messy, but she's kind She is lonely most of the time She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie She is gone, but she used to be mine