hoping this feeling wont die

Amalia Amalia hadn't known what possessed her to say yes to Adam's offer. Half of her had thought it a joke, that by saying yes she'd call his bluff and force him to step down. A part of her still anticipates it: that she will show up in the Oasis to find he's only upped the ante, or even worse, that he isn't there. Maybe she should bail just in case, to avoid the embarrassment. Maybe it would be better that way. If it wasn't real, she couldn't mess it up. And yet when the appointed day arrives the girl appears, a basket of food clutched between her hands. She's wearing a leaf-green open-back dress, her feet as bare as ever, her hair done in a neater braid that what she normally sports. Emerging from the trees on silent feet, the girl stops in pleased surprise at the scene that unfolds before her. Adam, a blanket, a bottle of wine. Either this is a very well-constructed practical joke, or this is really, actually, seriously, a date. Terrifying either way. Amalia doesn't know what to do, and so she clears her throat. "I... brought the food," she declares into the silence, her voice sounding strangled in her own ears. "Hope you're hungry." reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you