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With sweating palms and quick-flitting eyes, Amity knows ae looks like a mess. Ae’s embarrassed by it, by aer damp forehead and bright red blush, but more than that, ae’s terrified of the eyes that see those things, that see Amity. At least, the pieces of Amity that ae lets show - or, in this case, can’t conceal, no matter how hard ae’s trying.
Ae swallows around a dry throat, tries to get ahold of yourself, Amity, by the titan!, but nothing happens. If anything, aer heart beats only faster. The feeling of being watched turns into the feeling of being chased.
Ae knows ae’s being ridiculous. After all, ae’s sitting at the dinner table with aer family, enjoying (and ae uses that word lightly) a late supper. There’s no one behind aem, no one hiding in the dark; the only things Amity fears are right here in front of aem, their faces severe and suspicious as ae waffles to give an answer. Ae doesn’t even remember the question - just the awful bloom of anxiety that rose in aer chest at the words.
“Amity,” Mother says reproachfully. “Control yourself. Such obvious displays of weakness are beneath a Blight.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ae looks down at aer plate and tries desperately to school aer features. “You simply caught me off-guard.”
Mother’s voice is as cold as ice. “A Blight is never caught off-guard. Remember that.”
The clipped tone makes aem shiver, but ae nods. “Yes, of course,” Amity says. “I’ll do better. Be better.”
“Good.”
The twins look nervous too - but Amity only knows that because ae knows them. Despite living in the same home, being a part of the same family, they’re strangers to their parents, all three of them, just blank slates to paint the want for power on. In some ways, this works to their favor: Mother thinks the twins are amused, missing the nervous tilt to their slanted brows and twitching mouths.
Amity knows them better. Ae isn’t sure they know aem quite as well, but they definitely know why ae’s blushing so horribly. Why ae’s looking so afraid.
“Mittens is a very private person,” Emira says carefully. She’s not wrong about that, at least. Her voice wafts gently over their meals as she continues in the same calculatedly arrogant tone, “I’m sure it was merely shocking to hear such crass digging from our usually well-mannered parents.”
Amity sees Edric tense, though his eyes remain carefully half-lidded. He takes a bite of his food, but Amity doesn’t - ae’s not sure ae could open aer mouth without screaming. Let no one say that Emira isn’t the bravest of the three Blight children. Her behavior terrifies even Ed, let alone Amity.
Mother’s glare is as refined as it is hateful. “And you have no interest in a political coven?”
The laughter that bubbles from aer sister’s throat is bright and fake, like a bell made from gold-painted tin. “None, Mother. Amity is the one going on to greater things; being more marriageable, I’ll be the one to wed and carry on the Blight name.”
“So, no need to pressure Mittens into a relationship,” Edric adds. “Em and I have family stuff covered. A member of the Emperor’s coven has to be married to their work anyways.”
Mother’s eyes bore into Edric. He gulps.
“Don’t you agree, Father?” Edric turns to their father, who simply raises a brow.
“You don’t have confidence in your own beliefs?” Mother snaps. “You need a second opinion?”
Ae wants to be anywhere but here. Guilt fills aer chest; ae should have just answered if you wish the second it seemed like Mother wanted to discuss aer future.
“Are you looking into potential suitors, Amity?”
“If you wish me to, Mother, I will.”
It could have been so easy, but just the word suitor had nearly made aem shout out in terror, made all the worse when thoughts of the human filled aer mind.
Luz. The perfect suitor. The one ae can never have.
Just the memory of Grom, of that dance… Twirling so freely had been- well, exhilarating! Amity had felt more honest in those moments than ae’s ever been in aer life. In comparison to how ae feels now, here in Blight Manor…
Amity’s eyes threaten to fill with tears. This all feels so hopeless. Ae’s a Blight, first and foremost, whether ae likes it or not, and that means living up to expectations: joining the Emperor’s coven, being a girl, and definitely never falling in love with a human - with anyone below aer station. The Grom Queen crown sits sadly in its keepsake box, lonely without its pair. Lonely like Amity.
It’s all so miserable. Ae is miserable, the twins are miserable… Even Mother and Father seem miserable. So why do they keep playing house? Why do Emira and Edric keep navigating the nerve-wracking minefield that is dinnertime conversation just to turn around later to bully and mock Amity within an inch of aer sanity? Why does ae have to lie forever about who ae is, who ae wants to be? Why can’t ae just be happy?
Amity thinks of Luz Noceda’s smile. It fills aem; something envious, something adoring. So, so bright. A little voice in aer head, sounding all too much like the human, whispers, you can be.
Maybe Luz - er, the Luz in Amity’s head - is right. If ae tried, if ae packed up and ran, maybe something good could come of it. Just the thought, though, of running away from all ae’s ever known, of throwing all these years away and following aer own dreams of the future…
It makes aem want to be sick. No fear has ever been so great, so painful. So suffocating. The twins keep talking, keep distracting, keep doing what they do best, but even they can’t assuage Mother’s unhappiness. She seems to grow only more annoyed the more they speak, the more they aren’t the exact carbon copies of herself and her husband that she’d thought they’d be - that she’s trying to force them to be.
Carefully lifting aer fork to aer mouth, Amity eats aer dinner slowly. Ae can only hope to the Titan and beyond that no one notices aer shaking hands.