Amalia
the shield of safrin
As the illness wore on, Amalia's memories became less and less clear.
Which is to say that of the few things she can remember, her strange night with Finn is the one of the most vivid, like a photograph faded by the sunlight but with enough detail remaining to leave an impression of what was there. Fragmented moments knit together, taunting her when she tries to sleep; though she does her best not to look too closely, they still linger, reminders feverish mistakes.
So when Amalia sees him standing in the night, her first thought is not to be surprised, but suddenly, horribly afraid. Afraid that he isn't real, that the fever is returning and the hallucinated images have returned to claim her mind. Afraid that he is real, and she is about to be confronted by the shadows of her sins.
She has been flying, but now she lands a distance from him, bare feet touching lightly on the grass. Her hair is wild around her shoulders, her dark eyes glittering in the starlight as she stares at Finn. Wings still hang down from her spine, not yet retracted from her midnight flight. "F... Finn?" Amalia exhales uncertainly, her voice quivering under the weight of her fear. "Are you... are you real?"
Which is to say that of the few things she can remember, her strange night with Finn is the one of the most vivid, like a photograph faded by the sunlight but with enough detail remaining to leave an impression of what was there. Fragmented moments knit together, taunting her when she tries to sleep; though she does her best not to look too closely, they still linger, reminders feverish mistakes.
So when Amalia sees him standing in the night, her first thought is not to be surprised, but suddenly, horribly afraid. Afraid that he isn't real, that the fever is returning and the hallucinated images have returned to claim her mind. Afraid that he is real, and she is about to be confronted by the shadows of her sins.
She has been flying, but now she lands a distance from him, bare feet touching lightly on the grass. Her hair is wild around her shoulders, her dark eyes glittering in the starlight as she stares at Finn. Wings still hang down from her spine, not yet retracted from her midnight flight. "F... Finn?" Amalia exhales uncertainly, her voice quivering under the weight of her fear. "Are you... are you real?"
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
