Re: Amy's trailer: Amy M/Si M
Things felt different, and the conversation with Jamie had shifted everything around her somehow. It was as if her last vestiges of confidence in her her-ness were in their death flurries, and she was left to pick up their corpses and piece together their battered wings. She felt more herself than she had in months and months, and yet she felt like she had no right to be who she was, and maybe it showed. Though she tried not to show it, because she thought he needed light. He needed helium balloons, uplifted and remaining that way for weeks and weeks, and she wanted to give him that.
So she put the kettle on, and she leaned against the counter as she waited for the water to boil, for the kettle to sing. She could see him through the window he'd built with his foot, and she blinked slowly in the warm space and tipped her head, ear to shoulder. "I will. In a minute," she promised of looking out for herself, and she would. "But only if you drink some tea and get some rest, please," she said, adding the please belatedly, like frosting on some cake that she envisaged in her head. But she wasn't one not to say what she thought, and she sighed loudly enough for the sound to crowd the tiny tin space. "You're going to say I'm being dramatic," she began in preemptive caveat.