Scent of Home

It seems she was right about the jesting, which provides Amalia no small amount of relief. Awkwardness aside, it is easy to fall into companionable chatter, to listen as Adam tells his tales and recounts experiences from another world. They make a welcome pair of strangers: him giving, she taking, absorbing word after word. She is impressed by his truly ravenous nature, the way he managed to work through his plate and leave little more than crumbs behind. Amalia laughs, and smiles, and relaxes- And ultimately is so at ease that his shift of tone comes from left field. Her eyes widen in stark surprise, and for a moment it seems she might spring from her chair and run- And then she bursts out laughing, bemused, uproarious and unapologetic, her alto voice ringing through the shop. Hands rise up to cover her face, attempt to stifle the pealing giggles, but every time she looks back at him the laughter comes again. At last she is able to inhale deeply, catch her breath and force out words. "E... energy?" she repeats loudly, her face a vibrant shade of crimson before she hides it once again. "No, um, no thank you- I, uh, I think I'm good for now." amalia been talking to myself forever and how I wish I knew me better