Amalia
A deeper conversation is all I want from you-
You always try. It feels like a slap, intentional or not, her own insecurities rising up and riding the way of her voice. Flinching Amalia averts her gaze, feeling shame and failure rise up on her neck. She does always try, and this time she'd truly done everything she could, exhausted every avenue, been more than she was.For what?
She doesn't know what to say to him, how to heal, what offering she could possibly make. She watches him crumble and wonders how much he has kept hidden from her, how much she still hides- how much either of them can take.
He rises and she rises too, reaching uncertainly for him, still unable to bring herself to see the anguish in his face. "Deimos-" she murmurs, hands outstretched as he staggers, her monolith brought to heel. "You... you should sit. Can I get you something? Water, or...?" She's scrambling, grasping for anything to offer him, a lifeboat in their storm. And all the while she swallows it down, trying not to drown herself, to keep the things she can't afford to feel tucked back behind the floodgates of her heart.
- I want the words you're afraid to say:
the lonely ones you keep hidden
between the folds of your heart
