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Rift
“Hey, Amelia. Are you busy right now or—“
“I’m sorry.”
The sharp reply cuts Damon off in his tracks, lilac wide when Amelia’s red hair seems to whip away from him to curl over her shoulders in her pursuit to turn her back to him. Her shoulders hunched when she clears her throat. “I am busy. Could you come back later?”
Damon doesn’t know why, but the silence makes him feel a little off. The rag in his hand being rung awkwardly between his fingers when he simply tosses it over his shoulder. The sloshes of the bucket letting him know it hit its mark with a sound plop.
“…Sure. No problem.”
Amelia still hasn’t turned her large doe eyes at him. And Damon frowns, a wrinkle to his young brow. Usually, Amelia always pestered him. Day in and day out, it had become Amelia and him. No matter how much he fought it, she followed stubbornly. A sprinkle of sunshine in his otherwise perpetual darkness.
So color him a little baffled when he realized tha
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