VIOLET SKY, takigawa chris yuu

━ chapter twenty-six

act ii

how do we do this?
( carefully. )

chapter twenty-six

❛vanity is one of the seven deadly sins, you know❜

━━━━━━

Amara wakes up disoriented and alone.

The lights are off, hotel sheets cool and stiff against her face. No light peaks through the curtains and the red numbers of the clock on the nightstand tell her it's almost ten. After her brain does some more catch-up, she realizes she's been asleep for almost five hours.

She groans, planting her face back on the pillow.

Faint noises of laughter and talking drift to her, presumably from outside by the pool. She rolls to the side, turning on the lamp and sitting up. A note sits near her phone, Chris' neat script immediately recognizable.

There's pizza in the first conference room if you're hungry. If not, we're down by the pool. Come out when you're ready.

She sighs, sliding off the bed. She's tempted to just stay in, if only to put off introductions until tomorrow, but she's already awake and definitely hungry, so she might as well go. She changes into jeans and a hoodie, putting her hair into a braid. Deciding against makeup, she only uses concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes and sticks a tube of lip gloss in her pocket for when she's finished eating.

The first floor seems empty when she steps out, only a receptionist in the lobby, flashing a kind smile at Amara as she passes. The conference room is equally empty, pizza boxes and liters of coke sitting on a white, plastic table pushed toward the wall. Another table sits in the middle of the room, plastic white chairs surrounding it. Her stomach rumbles at the smell of food and she doesn't waste time in loading a plate and heating it up in the microwave.

The last time she ate had been on the first leg of their journey, the nine hour flight from Tokyo to Seattle. She spent the three hour layover there dozing on Chris' shoulder and did the same for the following two hour flight to Palm Springs.

Too long, really.

The microwave hums quietly while she pours herself a cup of slightly too room temperature coke. She pulls out her phone to send a text to Chris, but she pauses at finding a waiting text from Luisa. It's the same thing she has been hearing since the middle of January, so she grimaces and gets rid of the notification.

Chris' advice from December to continue as she was worked well. Too well, actually, and with the added distractions of finals and making sure Chris didn't run himself into the ground with last minute studying for the entrance exams, Lucas was the last thing Amara thought about for the past month.

So, Luisa's take your time, we understand texts eventually shifted to you should give him a call. An unsubtle way for Amara to see how Lucas has changed, insinuating he has changed. He is sober, probably, getting his shit together, and he has called her a few times since the new year, growing in frequency as March approaches. Amara hasn't had the guts to ever answer any of the calls.

Another time, she tells herself, going back to her original task of sending a text to Chris.

hey i'm eating rn would u mind coming to get me when i finish ?

By all means, Amara agreed to come. Chris took his entrance exams, they passed their finals, said goodbye to their friends for the rest of February, and boarded an early evening flight to the States. He drew her an extensive family tree on the first leg of the journey, giving her a meticulous rundown on everything. He said his family was okay, most of the time, but they had their moments. Amara hopes she won't have to experience any of those moments.