everything you want is on the other side of fear
A curt movement of her head, more flinch than nod, confirms Sera's suspicions as to what Adam is, what he has become, and what she found. Still Amalia stares at the glass before her; it isn't until the Artificer's hand presses against hers that she moves again, a silent sob forcing its shuddering way through her as her vision blurs with tears. Her hand is warm, like skin, like blood, like Adam's hadn't been. Warm enough to burn or heal; Amalia isn't yet sure which.
"It wasn't him, Sera," she whispers hoarsely, watching as tears ripple the surface of her untouched drink. "It looked like him, sounded- it remembered everything, knew what to say, but..."
At last the red-rimmed eyes turn up, searching for answers in the Artificer's face. "He kissed me, and his lips were cold. He didn't have a heartbeat. He isn't... him." Again she sobs, her slender body wracked beneath her grief.
"It wasn't him, Sera," she whispers hoarsely, watching as tears ripple the surface of her untouched drink. "It looked like him, sounded- it remembered everything, knew what to say, but..."
At last the red-rimmed eyes turn up, searching for answers in the Artificer's face. "He kissed me, and his lips were cold. He didn't have a heartbeat. He isn't... him." Again she sobs, her slender body wracked beneath her grief.
Amalia
