SALTBURNT | inbox.

[begot]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME
AMY

text 🍒 audio 🍒 video
 

Comments

[begot]

[ He doesn't stick around, and in fairness, Amy doesn't really expect him to. He isn't the fawning type, and the significant thing is the effort — the fact that he helped look for her without being asked. The text surprises her more. Still, she responds immediately, never one to let a text or a call go unanswered, even now. ]

of course.

[ She looks from her phone to the book in her lap, to Rupert, dozing in bed. ]

i'm going to get some water.
walk me to the kitchen?

[ Walk me rather than meet me, when she's still a little leery of going anywhere alone. ]

– 🎬

[scathe]

OK

[walking with her, showing up in any sort of sense, is a type of seeing for elias, and amy is letting him in. they've been in each other's orbit for weeks, overlapping only by chance outside of their sessions together. asking how it happened seems too far when he doesn't need the answer, now hellbent on fixating his hatred at saltburnt toward angel, a deserving pawn who happened to fall into his line of sight.]

Here

[he doesn't knock. he leans against the wall across from the bedroom, amy's room strictly off-limits in his mind. he creates space for her to see what's around the two of them, puts himself smack-dab in the middle. when she opens the door, his demeanor toward her has changed significantly. expression is less hardened by the walls he puts up, eyes a little softer, though there is an absence of pity. elias hates pity.]

Hi, Amy.

[begot]

[ It only takes a moment — thirty seconds at most — for the door to open after his text goes through. She's always like this, punctual and prompt. The shift is in her demeanor: a little tense, like she's seen a raincloud in the distance and expects it to bolt across the sky. (In other words, what she expects people will expect from her. At least it's not the first time she's thought about how to present herself in the wake of an abduction, even if this one wasn't orchestrated by her own hand.) ]

Hi, Elias.

[ She doesn't fully smile, remembering their conversation in the portrait hall, but her expression still brightens upon seeing him. And that's genuine, at least, even if so much else isn't. ]

Can I—

[ Her fingers, curled into her sleeves, tighten in their hold. This is pushing an invisible line, she knows that, but things have changed.

He looks at her differently, now. ]

Can I hug you?