you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
She giggles uneasily at the mention of Deimos' disapproval, realizing that while she has no idea what he might think of her getting high with a confessed thief in her bed in the middle of the afternoon. It is a testament to Amalia's own exhaustion and deteriorating mental health that she was willing to accept the invitation so quickly, desperate for any escape from the things that weigh upon her.
Still, she's a little hesitant as she follows Adam up the stairs, anxiety rising back within her, a threatening tide of doubt. Maybe this is a terrible idea. What if someone needs her? What if someone comes to the shop? What if the blighted strike, or Vi returns with more instructions, or anything else happens where being inebriated poses a problem?
What if she does something absurd, and he thinks less of her for it?
Still, Amalia could use a break. "Yeah, I guess." Reaching up to rub the back of her neck, she leans against the door frame as Adam settles onto the bed. The green balls he produces seem unassuming enough; listening intently, she takes one from him, inspecting it with an uncertain expression.
Amalia sits at the head of the bed, tucking her bare feet in beneath her, cross legged and still rather unsure. Sucking sounds smarter, but part of her knows that if she doesn't take the plunge all at once, she won't do it at all. Even now it seems like a terrible idea, and the doubt that is clawing at her mind is getting louder and more insistent, and she really probably shouldn't do this at all-
-but gods, she wants to relax.
"Well, here goes nothing," the Shield declares, popping the green pill into her mouth and swallowing it down in one solid gulp.
Still, she's a little hesitant as she follows Adam up the stairs, anxiety rising back within her, a threatening tide of doubt. Maybe this is a terrible idea. What if someone needs her? What if someone comes to the shop? What if the blighted strike, or Vi returns with more instructions, or anything else happens where being inebriated poses a problem?
What if she does something absurd, and he thinks less of her for it?
Still, Amalia could use a break. "Yeah, I guess." Reaching up to rub the back of her neck, she leans against the door frame as Adam settles onto the bed. The green balls he produces seem unassuming enough; listening intently, she takes one from him, inspecting it with an uncertain expression.
Amalia sits at the head of the bed, tucking her bare feet in beneath her, cross legged and still rather unsure. Sucking sounds smarter, but part of her knows that if she doesn't take the plunge all at once, she won't do it at all. Even now it seems like a terrible idea, and the doubt that is clawing at her mind is getting louder and more insistent, and she really probably shouldn't do this at all-
-but gods, she wants to relax.
"Well, here goes nothing," the Shield declares, popping the green pill into her mouth and swallowing it down in one solid gulp.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
