Re: In the car: Amy/Si
[The sweatshirt was big, huge, sleeves going endlessly past her fingertips, hem resting below her costume, collar gaping along collarbones. It smelled like him, and she snuggled up in it as she pressed her cheek to the passenger's side headrest. Look, look, and she looked at him in the darkness. She knew this was bad for him, hard, and she just let her hand slip and her fingers walk soothingly along his arm. The pins were scattered everywhere now, detritus in faux gold.] I don't really know. He was at the carnival, and he's dead, and he brought me home. The in-between things don't matter much, but I can see you clearer now.