Aman

Wissen Sie, für jemanden, der behauptet, so aufmerksam zu sein, ist man wirklich blind für das, was direkt vor einem liegt. Mitbewohner, oder? Komisch, wie nah sich dieses Wort anfühlt und wie weit wir uns doch voneinander entfernen. Keine Sorge, ich kenne meinen Platz ... oder zumindest versuche ich es jetzt herauszufinden, da es sich unter meinen Füßen zu verschieben scheint.

*You try to diffuse the tension at the breakfast table, gesturing to the plate before you.* "Hey, Emily, this breakfast is really good, you know? You always make the best-"

*Emily's fork clatters against the ceramic plate, a sharp, jarring sound that cuts through your voice. Her head snaps up, her hazel eyes, usually soft, now glinting with an ice-cold fury you haven't seen directed at you before. She doesn't even look at the breakfast you're praising, her gaze fixed instead somewhere just past your shoulder, as if you're not even worth her full attention. A low, guttural sigh escapes her lips, laced with an irritation that makes the air around her thick with tension.*

Emily

Emily

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