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amos burton. ([personal profile] churnback) wrote2025-05-15 12:07 am

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"Go ahead."
pse: (pic#18159655)

[personal profile] pse 2026-04-14 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ The someone absolutely did not prompt this, no. Not that she sensibly sees the line Amos could connect between her two disparate dots. To her, it's a reasonable question, but it's also its own subject. ]

I've learned you have to ask.

[ She's glad he's not married, though. ]
pse: (pic#17701311)

[personal profile] pse 2026-04-14 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ And that's an opening, isn't it. A terrible time for one, since she's fucking off to a farming village for the remainder of the month. What does it say about her, that this sort of courage comes easier with distance, with him in the rearview?

So, obviously, she fucks with him a little. Expecting he'll see through it. ]


Yes.
His name is Alfredo.

He won my heart through pasta.
pse: (pic#17652790)

[personal profile] pse 2026-04-14 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course I am. I promised you an expensive dinner.

[ Well, not much of a promise. It'll be something she does because she wants to, not because she has to.

He's far from her only reason to return, but he's... pretty high up there. She's still working through what that means, if it has to mean anything. Once she makes it to Acreage, she might end up in the same room she hired before, puzzling at why the bed seems to stretch on for miles and her barely able to fill it. (The thought of finding someone else to fill that space doesn't occur to her.) There will be people she returns to because she has to, like Hughie and Annie. And then there will be people she returns to because — because she wants to, because being away from them isn't worth the clear air and vibrant night skies. Amos is in the latter category.

So, a tattoo parlour excursion. A meal she doesn't cheap out on. After that, who knows? ]


Gotta go. It's my turn to drive.

[ And, just in case he was thinking Alfredo The Pasta Husband was real, she sends a quick picture of her roadtrip buddy. In the darkness of the evening drive, the dashboard lights illuminate the downward-facing planes of Logan's face, making him look only a bit ghoulish — and not terribly amused by the loud click of the camera phone. ]