we cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are
She does notice the way he takes a moment to answer, the belated smile, the tired eyes- it reminds her of the man she met half-asleep on a beach, rather than the passionate rebel who came to her with a book of secrets. But where Finn has faded Amalia has bloomed, the flush of purpose soothing some of her innate weariness and insecurity, despite her lingering doubts.
"Me too," the girl answers easily, a gentle smile crossing her face. "Do you need help carrying things?" She glances at the things he holds, coats and books and whatever else. Looking up again at his apology, Amalia merely shrugs. "Torchline was never really home. And I can do more good from here."
"Me too," the girl answers easily, a gentle smile crossing her face. "Do you need help carrying things?" She glances at the things he holds, coats and books and whatever else. Looking up again at his apology, Amalia merely shrugs. "Torchline was never really home. And I can do more good from here."
Amalia
