[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. Adam was just happy to be holding Amalia's hand; for once in the last month didn't consider how he couldn't feel her quite as well. He was there, experiencing life, with his best friend by his side. Yeah, sure, there was that weird tight feeling in his chest that liked to resurface every so often, and the knowledge that she hated what he'd become clung to his mind like a bitter limpet...but for the most part, ignoring everything determinedly, Adam was pleased to be there. "It wasn't Ronin." He repeatedly solemnly, a smirk pushed down from his lips, though Adam actually did gain a serious expression when Amalia continued speaking. While he could absolutely tease her for it ('everyone thinks about me all the time'), something in her tone made him just nod and squeeze her hand, eventually stopping when she trailed off and cut her sentence short. He wasn't sure why, but he really wanted to know what she was going to say. "No, c'mon. I'm here now, right, and who else are you gonna tell? You'd dream that we...?" Adam leaned a little closer so he was on her eye level, gave her a smile that wasn't a 'signature smirk' but an actual genuine kind gesture, and waited to listen. i'd trade my life and health, to make people pay attention. I'd sacrifice myself for the sake of entertainment.