AmaLIa
shield of safrin
"It looks messier than usual, if that's even possible."
Amalia leans against the door frame, trying and failing to appear nonchalant, as though the packing and planning and moving didn't bother her in the least. The smile she offers the men does nothing to brighten her dark eyes; the ferns that curl in her hair are evidence of her unrest.
Pushing herself off the wall, the Shield strides deeper into the room, settling on the bed. Asking permission from Sugar first (she's learned how protective a babysitter the dragon can be), Amalia reaches for Mateo, wriggling her fingers in front of his face for him to coo delightedly at, his pudgy hands reaching for the slender digits.
She keeps her gaze on the boy, not wanting his fathers to see the pain that's stark upon her face. "How soon are you leaving?"
Amalia leans against the door frame, trying and failing to appear nonchalant, as though the packing and planning and moving didn't bother her in the least. The smile she offers the men does nothing to brighten her dark eyes; the ferns that curl in her hair are evidence of her unrest.
Pushing herself off the wall, the Shield strides deeper into the room, settling on the bed. Asking permission from Sugar first (she's learned how protective a babysitter the dragon can be), Amalia reaches for Mateo, wriggling her fingers in front of his face for him to coo delightedly at, his pudgy hands reaching for the slender digits.
She keeps her gaze on the boy, not wanting his fathers to see the pain that's stark upon her face. "How soon are you leaving?"
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
