[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. It took all of Adam's will to hold back the instant fuck Vi that wanted to come forth from his lips; the only thing that stopped him was the worry that this new, incredibly passionate Amalia would take it the wrong way and decide to enact on her beliefs right now by removing his awful Ascended head from his fake body, or whatever. "You're right. I don't understand." Knowing that she was his ticket home though (and Gods, how awful it was that it had suddenly become so cold and practical), he didn't say anything else. Just let her pick him up, the touch now almost painful as he was aware with every bit of contact how much she had to be thinking of his nasty cold skin, his lack of life. To make it easier he automatically altered his gravity as she lifted off, making himself lighter - it struck him a moment later this might upset her, be even more unnatural, but honestly? He hoped she felt uncomfortable with it. His upset was very quickly turning into anger and bitterness. Normally, he would have made jokes, yelled, chatted to her on the way home, especially fucking flying -- but Adam was silent, watching the world go by beneath them. i'd trade my life and health, to make people pay attention. I'd sacrifice myself for the sake of entertainment.