& oh, poor atlas - the world's a beast of a burden
There's something magical in watching another fall into their passions, swept away from reality by a love more pure and unwavering than that felt between humans. She passes back his coat with a dismissive shrug, the smile still warm on her coral lips, dark gaze turning to watch as Roland replaces the guitar on the wall.
"Where did you learn to play like that?" Amalia wonders aloud, reaching out to press her own fingers to the guitar's strings. They hum beneath her uncertain caress, aimless notes plucked by unskilled fingers sounding far more discordant than harmonic. Her voice is distant, alto smoke, distracted as she admires the craftsmanship of the guitar. "It seems a shame, for something so beautiful to be kept on a wall... It deserves to be used. Loved."
"Where did you learn to play like that?" Amalia wonders aloud, reaching out to press her own fingers to the guitar's strings. They hum beneath her uncertain caress, aimless notes plucked by unskilled fingers sounding far more discordant than harmonic. Her voice is distant, alto smoke, distracted as she admires the craftsmanship of the guitar. "It seems a shame, for something so beautiful to be kept on a wall... It deserves to be used. Loved."
you've been holding on a long time
