i hate dreaming of being alone

AmaLIa

shield of safrin

He tucks away further, withdrawing for her, the opposite of what she wants. Truth be told, Amalia is afraid: afraid of the darkness that lurks within him, afraid of the secrets, afraid of the scars. But it matters less to her what he was than what he is - and she feels as though she doesn't know that, not in all of its truth. Her long arms wrap around her legs, chin resting uncomfortably on bony knees.

"You don't get to decide if I stay or go." Her eyes remain unfocused from him, staring at the window, the haze of sun beyond. "But I don't want to leave you." Not now, not ever: but he doubts it still, questions her commitment, and that stings. It makes her feel far away from him, wonder what does lie in the unsaid moments, the secrets he clings to in the recesses of his mind.

And her bad parts? Suddenly Amalia feels guarded, defensive, the anxieties rearing up. What does she even have left to share with him, and what will he do but rebuff her? "I'm insecure," she replies softly, her alto almost monotone. "I'm afraid all the time. I get angry, and I make stupid decisions, and sometimes I hurt and there's nothing you'll be able to do to fix it." And sometimes she doesn't want him to fix it, to try and make her whole, because she knows she will never be whole enough - never be the perfect woman he always seems to see.

you can't choose what stays
and what fades away