[PQ] Glitter on the floor after the party

MaeA (42) It was all coming back. Years of tagging along behind Evie and Ama, of those too-bright smiles and too-kind words, like a burdock wrapped up in a silk shawl, meant to sting if she held on too tightly. The veiled taunts, the little odd jobs and 'favors' that only really served to make her leave - because when she came back, they would always be gone. Or huddled together, talking and giggling about something that was always interrupted by her return. Never outright mean, never openly cruel, but never kind either. Not like they were to each other. The reaction to the spilled ointment was so typically Evie that Maea gritted her teeth. Of course it had been for her. Of course she never heard of it until now when it was too late. Too bad that she used it to clean up the glass, now it was her own fault that she wouldn't get any. Right? "I'm sorry, Evie. Don't worry about it, I'll be fine anyway" she said, just as she had done a million times before. She was already turning to start on another task when the scream pierced through her ears, a high pitched sound that grated on her nerves even as she turned, with a sinking feeling to her stomach. Of course Evie had stepped on the one piece of glass Maea had missed. What was worse; that the had missed it, that Evie had noticed or that she had actually gotten hurt? The guilt was there immediately, the urge to once more apologize a weight like led on her shoulders. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.... "I'll fetch it!" she promised, already moving when the order came. So ingrained a habit that Maea didn't even question herself until she reached up for the jars, hand hesitating between two lables that were illegible to her blurry sight. But even though she knew this was not her anymore, this exact reason why she had not seen either of her childhood 'friends' in such a long time, there really wasn't much she could do right. Right? Evie was hurt after all, and what kind of person would Maea be if she walked out on her now? She grabbed one of the jars at random, hoped it was the right one and came back with it. "Did you mean this?" Still soft spoken, still calm, but the light was dying in her eyes and her shoulders hunched in preparations for the blow she knew to expect. She spared a glance for Sam, but couldn't find a smile to offer. Why had she come here again? you're so cold, but you feel alive.