⠀⠀⠀⠀amara’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer while she recalled more and more details. as she had already mentioned, she knew that he appeared more than just one time at the verge of the other side. however, it was only one time that he actually passed through her. one time, he actually, truly died. she rememered the pain. there was something with his neck. something deep, gaping. the cause of his one actual death. she didn't tell him this, though, knowing that it would be insensitive to talk about it, beyond that, it is nothing that could be forgotten. no one forgets their death.

⠀⠀⠀⠀so when he chose his words, she couldn't help but look at him slightly ... puzzled. she doubted it would be good seeing her again. he truly had no reason to feel that way. not only because of these situations but also because she looked like his sister. she imagined it must be strange (and certainly is for her to see shadow selves of her walking around and realizing that they truly exist). the moment passed as quickly as it had come, her attention pulling back to the present with a small, almost imperceptible shift of her posture.

⠀⠀⠀⠀his next words, however, drew a different reaction. her lips parted slightly, though no immediate answer followed. instead, her gaze drifted past him, toward nothing in particular, as if weighing something far larger than the question itself. "i think…" her voice was softer now, the words barely forming as more than a breath. "the world would absolutely be fine without me at all ." it was not directed at him, not really. more a thought that had slipped free before she could stop it. she stilled after, as though realizing she had said it aloud at all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀silence lingered for a beat before she shifted her weight faintly, her attention returning to him once more. there was hesitation there now, clear in the slight tension of her shoulders, in the way her gaze flickered briefly toward the door. the thought of returning and being bothered with questions (no matter if they were well meant or not) pressed at her just as much as the unfamiliarity of everything beyond it. the outside was… loud. vast in a way that felt overwhelming rather than freeing. nothing like something she could understand.

It's when she mentioned that the world would be fine without her completely that his heart sank into his stomach. It pinches, because he understands. He feels it, knows it to be true about himself as well. He doesn't comment, not immediately, just chews on it for a moment. He slots it away into that same category of being too sad to deal with right now, that they're practically strangers. Jeremy adjusts his body to look at her, really look at her, and he sighs, a pained smile trying to break through the sad atmosphere that was thrusted upon him.

She might not be his sister, but she still carries a lot of grief like her. Like himself as well.