Aug 22, 2018
that day has haunted me.
sharp objects.
( accepting -- mutuals / @deamazed )
amy has never struck her as the sort of person things just happen to, no matter what anyone else might think; there’s something about the way that she carries herself, not a hair out of place unless she wants it to be, that says nothing happens unless i want it to. (with anyone else, she thinks, it’d be a quality she would admire; her own life has been such a strange hodgepodge of events that any semblance of control is something to be envious of. but with amy –– she hesitates. she’s not wholly sure why.)
she takes a sip of her coffee and, over the rim of the mug, lifts her brows. “really?”
