Re: In-person: Amy M/Si M
A small laugh carried in a small smile when she teased about living in a perpetual roadtrip. The tip of his head to her fingers. And he nodded. "Greasy diner food and mid-range hotel rooms forever," he agreed, words still running rough, like his throat was still tight. He swallowed. He looked at the road. He felt the car around him. The dash lights reflected back a soft early '90s glow. His sister was safe beside him. The song was lulling. Si glanced over, a little less ready to split from his skin. The light was gauzy on her, but she was really here. It wasn't her in his room telling him to go in a crushed whisper. It wasn't her, with the rot set in, reaching up from the grave. "Freaked me out," he said.