[private] i met the reaper and all her friends

[amathea]

my daydreams love the violent color of your lips—

Amathea loves Margot perhaps most desperately of all of the glass sisters. Because they are closest in age, because the two of them are porcelain, because Margot reminds her the most of their mother. Strong, certainly stronger than Amathea. Because there is an edge to her younger sister that Amathea has never fathomed for herself.

She smiles despite the venom (and she does sense it, because she knows her well enough to know that their mother’s blood runs strongest through her veins). “Just because we haven’t yet, that doesn’t mean we can’t,” she points out and exhales a long, languorous sigh, grinning her own placid grin.

Where has she been?
It should be a simple answer, for it is a rather simple question. But she has been everywhere and nowhere all at once. She had lost sight of their father in the darkness, discovered her ability to teleport through water quite by accident, and had rarely made her way back to Pangea. The only noteworthy place she had traveled to (also by accident) had been Baltia. 

“Everywhere,” she says, though it is not as fantastical as it sounds. She sits up, drawing her porcelain legs up under her chest and studies her sister. “Where have you been, Margot?” 

— and the nightmares that accompany it

@ margot