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 "Wouldn't I?" She doesn't look at Jigano; her eyes are far away. "In Mort's realm, with eternal rest... Isn't that supposed to be what happiness is like?" Even Ronin who had not made it to the realm of Mort had been happier in the afterlife. That was the promise of Mort, after all. But to give herself to Mort is to abandon her fealty to Vi, her promise to protect life. With a weary sigh Amalia blinks, her eyes seeming to refocus on the room around her, the cracking ceiling, the man. She uncurls her hands, crescents left by the biting nails. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous." And selfish, and childish- all the things she said she was not. "You came to see if I was okay, and I... I made it into a thing." Her nose wrinkles over the word, but her playfulness is full and unconvincing. 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