i hate dreaming of being alone

AmaLIa

shield of safrin

He thought she was dead- and she doesn't have the heart to tell him that she'd wished she was, that when darkness comes the thought replays over and over and over in her head. Looking into the empty house, she wonders if she isn't a little dead, as hollow and lifeless as this place despite the vibrant veneer. She is grateful, yes, to be alive, to be whole, but maybe it would have been better for them all if she'd been trapped and crushed beneath the rubble.

He would have been able to move on, then, instead of being trapped in her tumultuous mess, the snares of her fractured heart.

She's surprised by the next retort, blinking and glancing down at his crown. This, at least, she feels no regret for, her piety and faith the only confidence she has left. "I would give my life to Safrin if she asked it," Amalia says softly, her brow furrowed, her mouth dry. "To any of the old gods. I... I belong to them. You have to know that." She has never been shy about her devotion to her deities, their position in the hierarchy of her esteem.

Her hands draw away and he grabs them back, preventing her retreat, holding her to him. "Yes I do," she counters quietly, letting her fingers trace over his. "I need your misery with your happiness. I need all of you, the good and bad. You... you keep trying to help me, but I don't want help. I just want you."

you can't choose what stays
and what fades away