Amalia
A deeper conversation is all I want from you-
She raises an eyebrow at his offer to help, resistant for a second before giving in; "Sure," Amalia allows softly, the ghost of a smile on coral lips. And when he comes up behind her as she rises on tiptoes to try and collect a bowl the baker can't help a slight snort of laughter, tucking her hair behind her ear, something close to teasing in her dark eyes. "My hero."Flour, oats, and salt go into one bowl; yeast, water, honey and molasses in another. She leaves the dry ingredients to Loren to mix should he so choose, watching sidelong with the attention of any protective artist allowing another in their space.
Once the wet ingredients are mixed together she returns to the larger bowl, looking to see if Loren has made a well for her to pour into. "I heard you live in Halo now," she comments, preparing to add the liquids to solids. "That sounds... cold?" It's a much milder version of what she wants to say: like a terrible idea, why would you do this to yourself.
- I want the words you're afraid to say:
the lonely ones you keep hidden
between the folds of your heart
