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 He has told her before, in sharing a little of his history, his world, and even if it's half-forgotten it's less unsettling now than perhaps a year before. Amalia has seen and experienced and known so much; a man who wasn't a man before coming here is the least of her concerns. "Stop... Stop thinking about it as leading people," she suggests, a teasing and tired quirk to her lips. "Stop acting like we aren't your equals- like we don't make the choice to do things, and you have to be responsible for us." Her voice is a little bit sharp; clearly he's struck a nerve. Shaking her head, she leans forward on the bed. "I know you're strong, but so am I. So is Deimos, and Kiada, and everyone else in their own way. You... It feels like you forget that, sometimes." It's a contradiction to the rest of her point, perhaps- that she is flawed, that she is weak. That she doesn't deserve to be on a pedestal. She can feel her frustration rising up again, less with him than her own inability to accurately explain her feelings on the matter. Her back arches as she stretches forward, fingers tracking down to wrap around her calves I'm scared. Amalia exhales, dark eyes falling closed. I'm stubborn. I'm anxious all the time. But I'm... I'm a person. Just like you. I'm doing my best, and sometimes it's not very good, and sometimes it's okay. I'm fragile, but you don't have to try to protect me all the time. You're not responsible for me. You're not my father. Just... Just be my friend. 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