Amalia
the shield of safrin
As he fetches plates she takes out food: half a pie of roasted vegetables and smoked fish, a loaf of neatly swirled rye bread, a plate of passion fruit frosted cookies. A new experiment with the local fruits, but she has gotten positive reviews so far. Setting each one on the table Amalia looks with pride upon her work, her expression growing soft and vibrant in the quiet, rare flash of contentment and satisfaction and knowledge that she's done alright.He breaks her reverie with his voice, and she turns to see the grey scarf waiting in his hands. "Oh- thank you for keeping it safe." Smiling, Amalia reaches to reclaim the fabric, her fingers brushing over his for the briefest hint of a second. She turns away swiftly, returning it to her bag, her tone now hesitant and self-conscious. "I... brought you something as well. But it isn't an apology, I promise."
When she turns back she is holding the box extended in her hand, a shy blush creeping once more over tanned cheeks. "You don't... you can open it whenever you like. I thought you might appreciate it more than I would, given... well." Trailing off awkwardly the Shield shrugs, eager to sit down and begin to fill her plate with food, to drown out the anxiety that rises in her ears so easily, especially of late.
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
