@blightend : "Hey, Em." Amity knocks on Emira's door waiting for a few seconds before poking her head in. She's holding several dresses in her arms, her face flushed a deep shade of pink that makes the purple freckles dotting her face pop. She steps into the room closing the door behind her quickly before anyone else in the house can catch her coming to Emira for help. "Um... Can I get your opinion on some stuff?" She buries her face in the dresses muffling her voice as she continues to talk. "I uhh... I'm going to hang with Luz tomorrow and want help picking out something to wear."
Emira looks up from her work ( scrolling penstagram, reading a trashy romance novel, and practicing healing magic — all at once! ) the minute her sister’s voice sounds, and moves from laying on her stomach to sitting, legs crossed, the minute she enters. And she smiles at her flush and her embarrassment and — the question. Oh, Amity is so cute. Was she that cute, the first time she went on a date with a girl?
( there’d been no one for her to ask for advice; she’d already learned not to trust mom, and had been scared that if she’d asked, mom would decide that the girl wasn’t good enough for their family and ruin something. edric helped, but it wasn’t the same as having someone older to ask. )
The thought — that Amity has someone to go to, and that Emira can be to Amity what Emira didn’t have — makes her feel warm. It also makes her smile curl into something almost malevolent. Only teasingly, though, and any knife - catness is offset somewhat by how deeply fond her eyes are. She and Edrick tried to protect Amity, even while they were often harmful themselves, and that sucks in a lot of ways Emira’s aware of; they shouldn’t have had to raise her, or whatever approximation of raising they attempted while Dad was too busy with work, too busy to care or see them, and Mom was best avoided entirely.
“You’ve come to the right place!” she says happily, hopping from the bed and taking Amity’s arm to tug her into the room. “Oooooh, this is so exciting! Dressing Mittens up for her first not - date!” Before she can take issue with the DATE verbiage, Em takes to pulling the dresses from Amity’s hands and spreading them across the bed for proper perusal. “Okay, what vibe are we going for? Cute, mysterious, et cetera? That’ll help us narrow it down.”
