AmaLIa
shield of safrin
It's easy to hide, she knows this well- she'd done it for years, after all. Hidden when her grandmother died and again when her mother followed, sequestered herself away from the world in hopes of keeping further hurt at bay. She'd taken to shadows instead of light, and it was only the careful prying of patient fingers that peeled away her shell.
Once there was a girl who didn't know how to stop feeling alone. Then, one day, she met a boy...
"I wish you didn't hide from me." Her voice is soft, a plea beneath the tightness of frustration, the exhaustion brought from these last weeks. A talon claws a line in the table, carving a rivulet against the grain. There are unshed tears beneath the angry slant of her brows. "I wish you trusted me. "
At least he's able to recognize when his words merit anger, making him far more composed and mature than she. The anger remains, mixed with hurt, animal features overlayed upon a woman's face leading to a cacophony of emotion beneath her lilac hair. She turns to him, though, shifts in her chair, really looks at him through red-rimmed eyes. How can he still not understand? "I don't... It isn't about your past. You were right- you're a different person, but sometimes it feels like I still don't know you. What you're thinking, or feeling, or... Or what you need."
One hand raises toward his cheek, hesitating, lingering in the air. Her eyes dart between his, the anger stripped away at last, so only vulnerability remains. "You're always taking care of me, Deimos. Let me take care of you."
Once there was a girl who didn't know how to stop feeling alone. Then, one day, she met a boy...
"I wish you didn't hide from me." Her voice is soft, a plea beneath the tightness of frustration, the exhaustion brought from these last weeks. A talon claws a line in the table, carving a rivulet against the grain. There are unshed tears beneath the angry slant of her brows. "I wish you trusted me. "
At least he's able to recognize when his words merit anger, making him far more composed and mature than she. The anger remains, mixed with hurt, animal features overlayed upon a woman's face leading to a cacophony of emotion beneath her lilac hair. She turns to him, though, shifts in her chair, really looks at him through red-rimmed eyes. How can he still not understand? "I don't... It isn't about your past. You were right- you're a different person, but sometimes it feels like I still don't know you. What you're thinking, or feeling, or... Or what you need."
One hand raises toward his cheek, hesitating, lingering in the air. Her eyes dart between his, the anger stripped away at last, so only vulnerability remains. "You're always taking care of me, Deimos. Let me take care of you."
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
