make peace with your broken pieces
"Yeah," Amalia agrees of the flowers in her hair, flushing happily despite the discontent that swirls in her heart. The light in the water glitters enticingly, capturing her wistful gaze; steadily she continues adding aromatic blooms, new ones quickly growing in to take their places. "I... I know it's fine, I guess. I'm so tired of not knowing, though." A small, sad smile curls at her lips, below the lines of exhaustion that have marked her face since she grew sick. "I still wonder if it was the right thing. Leaving the Grounds, and... and Deimos. Letting go of everything I know and moving towards something I can't see."
Shrugging, Amalia trails off, her attention returning to Ronin's warm blue eyes. "Where would you have taken him?" Somewhere far away from people, from responsibilities, from anything being asked?
Except that responsibility always seems to follow them, no matter how far they run.
Her expression hardens as the topic shift, an apologetic glance thrown Ronin's way. "Our best is subjective," she points out with a sigh. "Is it horrible of me to think the Ascended deserve to stay sick, after the Blight?"
Shrugging, Amalia trails off, her attention returning to Ronin's warm blue eyes. "Where would you have taken him?" Somewhere far away from people, from responsibilities, from anything being asked?
Except that responsibility always seems to follow them, no matter how far they run.
Her expression hardens as the topic shift, an apologetic glance thrown Ronin's way. "Our best is subjective," she points out with a sigh. "Is it horrible of me to think the Ascended deserve to stay sick, after the Blight?"
shield of safrin
