[split] [se] the ones who sing in the dead of night

ADAM it's not a cry for help, it's just a cry for connection. As soon as his feet touched the ground Adam was standing up and walking away from Amalia, finding himself revulsed at the idea of spending any more time around her unsettling devotion. Maybe the Voice had changed his body, but he felt like the Old Gods had changed Amalia's soul. He'd never known what to do with her devout praise for the Gods and now it had morphed into zealotry, he was even less equipped. He'd already taken several steps away when she spoke, and he didn't turn to look back at her. When Adam heard it he was tempted to not reply either, but the painful rope between their hearts still tugged and he couldn't just leave her silently; that didn't mean he had to say anything kind, though. "I don't want you to fucking fix me, Amalia. Save that for someone that needs it." That was all he had to say. His hand raised as he almost turned around, almost got into the argument - but knowing it would only go around in circles, Adam sighed, shook his head and continued walking away, not looking back. {FIN} i'd trade my life and health, to make people pay attention. I'd sacrifice myself for the sake of entertainment.