[The spider moves to Henry's palm and it waits patiently to be moved back to it's spot instead of crawling anywhere else. Amelia opens her mouth to answer him but closes it again when she hears the confusion in his voice.
Odd how the explanation sounded simple in her head but she's lost the words all of a sudden.]
Well. I thought it'd be something you like?
[She tries again and instead of overthinking it just says it.]
I wanted to do something that would make you feel happy.
[It's such a simple explanation, but it feels like being handed a too-many-faceted sentiment, and Henry doesn't know how to hold it. How to really process it. Kindness simply for the sake of it is not something he particularly cares to attribute or acknowledge about humanity in general.
Much less when it's directed at him.]
Happy...?
[So very foreign.]
This...
[Quietly, he turns and moves to return the spider back to its web, looking down at it the whole while.]
... I should hope so. I have to keep everyone, not just you on their toes.
[Kindness for the sake of it is something that Amelia ironically learned from someone inhuman, someone who was able to draw out that inherent quality in her. She would be the first to admit that she was selfish and closed off, more willing to care about herself than others. With power such as hers, didn't she have the right? Didn't she have the privilege to lord herself above all other humans?
No, she would say. That isn't happiness. It was not about being greater, not when she had felt so tiny and helpless in her circumstances and not when her heart was so cut up.
(The world is such a dark place, but Briar loved it so.)
There was nothing wrong with doing something small to make someone else's day a little better, a little brighter.
Amelia says nothing as Henry returns the spider back to its web. The small creature, recognizing its home skitters back, delicately clinging to the thin threads. She's running her fingers through her hair as she watches it settle back in.]
It'll last longer. The spider and any webs it makes I mean.
[Said spider is actually starting to repair the damaged area of its web. The webbing it produces shimmers ever so slightly in the sun. Amelia mumbles the last part of her explanation as if suddenly shy about how much effort she put into the magic.]
My hair has a lot of magic so... The webs it makes should be better...
[Amelia has grown so much more as a person than Henry. Henry, who is always so angry at the world, who feels like he was dealt an unfair hand, who feels he fits in so badly with the rest of society that something else must be wrong with it, not him. Never him. His parents were wrong about him, just another pair of of individuals acting out their role in a silly, terrible play.
Little gestures like this, little kindnesses for the sake of it—when they aren’t used to tell lies, or manipulate—are little facets of proof going against the grain. He should reject them, but Amelia’s propensity to use her power to aid something he holds close to his heart, spiders, makes that difficult to do.
He swallows, his throat bobbing up and down. The spider shines; it already tries to make a new web with more vigor than he’s seen most spiders possess. Finally, Henry looks at Amelia.]
Thank you.
[Really, that’s all he can manage for now. All he can say in regards to processing this action. But— Well. It’s sincere, a rarity from him. She really did put some effort into this little gesture for him, didn’t she?
Her hair…]
Your hair… Is it that useful?
[Without thinking, he just reaches out to… touch a lock of her hair, curious. Either oblivious or unremarking to her shyness.]
[Ah. Amelia is a bit too blindsided by Henry's action to react normally such as pulling or swatting him away from touching her hair. She replies rapidly only taking a step back to create a semblance of polite distance.]
It's... I have a lot of excess energy. It has to circulate somewhere and I'm a witch with long hair so naturally, that's where I channel it.
I think you might be able to feel it since it's only notable up... close.
[The lock he has between his fingertips gives off a very low signature and a distinct hum. In day-to-day life, Amelia manages to make her hair appear normal and its gloss and color are natural. The magic that flows through the innumerable strands would not be as distinct until she decides to use it.
Amelia will just glance the other way, thanks. That much should satisfy his curiosity right?]
[This is one such moment where Henry doesn't realize how awkward of a gesture it could be, how it might be considered an invasion of personal space — congratulations Amelia, you’ve officially made it into his category of “people he’ll reach out and touch without warning out of little more than fascination.”
Ymmv regarding whether this is a good thing or otherwise.
But for now, he just looks at its hue gleaming in the sun. So much excess magic that it literally has to be stored in her hair…]
I think I can— Feel it.
[Between forefinger and thumb, the lock of hair thrums faintly against his touch. After a moment, he finally lets it fall away, looking at the lines of her profile.]
There wasn't really a reason to bring attention to it before.
[Let the record show that Amelia Eva Steinbeck has once again stumbled into something that she should recognize as a flag of sorts. And once again she is absolutely not aware of it at all.
She turns to look at him again and she's hidden her hands in her hoodie pouch just so the finger fiddling is not as noticeable.]
So! Breakfast. Late breakfast? Let's have some.
Edited (why do i always have an extra spaced line gd) 2023-07-04 00:23 (UTC)
[It’s a slow and subtle process, Henry’s focus returning inward, self-aware enough to straighten and reset his demeanor into its usual peaceable standard. But it does. He even has enough grace not to mention the obvious way her fingers twitch inside her hoodie pocket.
The smile returns, small and faint.]
Well, now I know. More of your mystery is unraveling by the day.
[…again, for good or ill.]
I had forgotten all about breakfast. Yes, let’s eat.
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
no subject
Odd how the explanation sounded simple in her head but she's lost the words all of a sudden.]
Well. I thought it'd be something you like?
[She tries again and instead of overthinking it just says it.]
I wanted to do something that would make you feel happy.
no subject
Much less when it's directed at him.]
Happy...?
[So very foreign.]
This...
[Quietly, he turns and moves to return the spider back to its web, looking down at it the whole while.]
You'll full of surprises, Amelia.
no subject
[Kindness for the sake of it is something that Amelia ironically learned from someone inhuman, someone who was able to draw out that inherent quality in her. She would be the first to admit that she was selfish and closed off, more willing to care about herself than others. With power such as hers, didn't she have the right? Didn't she have the privilege to lord herself above all other humans?
No, she would say. That isn't happiness. It was not about being greater, not when she had felt so tiny and helpless in her circumstances and not when her heart was so cut up.
(The world is such a dark place, but Briar loved it so.)
There was nothing wrong with doing something small to make someone else's day a little better, a little brighter.
Amelia says nothing as Henry returns the spider back to its web. The small creature, recognizing its home skitters back, delicately clinging to the thin threads. She's running her fingers through her hair as she watches it settle back in.]
It'll last longer. The spider and any webs it makes I mean.
[Said spider is actually starting to repair the damaged area of its web. The webbing it produces shimmers ever so slightly in the sun. Amelia mumbles the last part of her explanation as if suddenly shy about how much effort she put into the magic.]
My hair has a lot of magic so... The webs it makes should be better...
no subject
Little gestures like this, little kindnesses for the sake of it—when they aren’t used to tell lies, or manipulate—are little facets of proof going against the grain. He should reject them, but Amelia’s propensity to use her power to aid something he holds close to his heart, spiders, makes that difficult to do.
He swallows, his throat bobbing up and down. The spider shines; it already tries to make a new web with more vigor than he’s seen most spiders possess. Finally, Henry looks at Amelia.]
Thank you.
[Really, that’s all he can manage for now. All he can say in regards to processing this action. But— Well. It’s sincere, a rarity from him. She really did put some effort into this little gesture for him, didn’t she?
Her hair…]
Your hair… Is it that useful?
[Without thinking, he just reaches out to… touch a lock of her hair, curious. Either oblivious or unremarking to her shyness.]
no subject
It's... I have a lot of excess energy. It has to circulate somewhere and I'm a witch with long hair so naturally, that's where I channel it.
I think you might be able to feel it since it's only notable up... close.
[The lock he has between his fingertips gives off a very low signature and a distinct hum. In day-to-day life, Amelia manages to make her hair appear normal and its gloss and color are natural. The magic that flows through the innumerable strands would not be as distinct until she decides to use it.
Amelia will just glance the other way, thanks. That much should satisfy his curiosity right?]
no subject
Ymmv regarding whether this is a good thing or otherwise.
But for now, he just looks at its hue gleaming in the sun. So much excess magic that it literally has to be stored in her hair…]
I think I can— Feel it.
[Between forefinger and thumb, the lock of hair thrums faintly against his touch. After a moment, he finally lets it fall away, looking at the lines of her profile.]
I guess I had no reason to notice it until now.
no subject
[Let the record show that Amelia Eva Steinbeck has once again stumbled into something that she should recognize as a flag of sorts. And once again she is absolutely not aware of it at all.
She turns to look at him again and she's hidden her hands in her hoodie pouch just so the finger fiddling is not as noticeable.]
So! Breakfast. Late breakfast? Let's have some.
no subject
The smile returns, small and faint.]
Well, now I know. More of your mystery is unraveling by the day.
[…again, for good or ill.]
I had forgotten all about breakfast. Yes, let’s eat.