Amelia forces a smile, though her eyes still reflect her lingering anxiety. “Goodnight.”
Hendricks gives Amelia an apologetic nod before guiding his daughter away.
As soon as the door closes, Amelia’s smile fades. Her shoulders slump further, and she runs a hand through her hair, her fingers trembling slightly. She looks around her apartment, now back to its normal state, and the worry lines on her face deepen.
That was close.
We have to find a way to help her hide it until she’s ready to launch… whatever it is.
Amelia locks the door and heads to the bathroom. The sound of the shower turning on echoes faintly through the speakers, and it’s the only sound in the office since we all seem to be too stunned to talk.
The things she could do with that.
The lives she will change.
When she emerges, she’s dressed in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, her hair damp and clinging to her face.
I watch as she makes a cup of tea, and there’s a subtle tremor in her hands as she pours the water. I can’t help but notice the way her shoulders slump, the weariness in every movement. She walks to the window, where rain taps softly against the glass, and stands there for a moment. The darkness outside presses in, the rain blurring the world beyond, but it’s her stillness that holds my attention. She takes a sip of her tea, and I see her gaze grow distant, unfocused, as if she’s searching for something in the rain-soaked night that she can’t quite find.
It’s hard to watch her like this, knowing she’s carrying so much on her own. I wish I could reach out and help ease the burden she’s clearly struggling with, but all I can do is watch from afar, feeling the tight knot of worry in my chest grow tighter with every passing second.
After what feels like an eternity, she finally turns away from the window. Her steps are slower now as she moves to the couch, and wraps herself in a blanket. The sight of her like this—small, almost fragile—twists something inside me.
She picks up the remote, and the television flickers to life. The dim glow from the screen highlights her face, casting shadows that deepen the worry lines etched there as the familiar dialogue of Twilight fills the space.
“That’s my sign to go to bed,” Grey mutters, getting up from his chair.
He’s been sleeping like shit the last few days—I know because I was awake, too—so I’m glad he’s finally going to rest.
Oliver yawns, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, I think I’m done, too,” he says, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.
“Go to sleep, both of you,” I tell them. “I’ll… keep an eye on her.”
I don’t have to explain.
They know.
With nods of understanding, they get up and head to their rooms. Once they’re gone, I pull up a second camera feed, positioning it so I can watch the movie along with Amelia while still being able to seeher.It feels a bit less lonely this way, sharing the same moment, even from a distance.
After the second movie of the series ends, Amelia stretches and yawns but shows no sign of abandoning her spot on the couch. She selects the third movie, and I realize she’s not going to sleep anytime soon. I’m not sleepy either, and the idea of both of us being awake but apart feels shittier the longer I sit in it. I grab my phone and text her.
You up?
She jumps at the sound of her phone but leans over to grab it. A smile spreads across her face when she sees my name, giving me butterflies.
Fuck.
Amelia
It’s raining. I’m so not hiking up a mountain in the rain.
Little minx.
And how is the weather inside you?
A little windy. How’s your weather?
It’s always sunny when you’re around.
