Ever since that Saturday, there was a lingering pain in Amity's chest whenever she looked at Luz.
Essentially, her heart hurt with every beat that it took.
The situation was so unbelievably fucked up that it made Amity want to let out a bitter laugh.
Ironic, isn't it, how the only person she was living for was already dead?
The ghost remained oblivious, a trait that she'd previously hated but now grew to greatly appreciate. Luz somehow managed to never notice the little things that would tip anyone off, like how Amity stuttered over her words whenever the ghost looked at her intensely. Or that stupid blush that plastered over her face whenever Luz got a little too close.
Whenever Luz smiled, she felt like simultaneously laughing and crying.
If the ghost stayed around any longer, Amity would be dead herself before the end of the month.
She'd heard legends of witches hearts being broken so badly that they actually kneeled over within a couple of days. She couldn't decide whether she was lucky or cursed that that hadn't happened yet.
In addition, the world seemed to be bleeker and greyer as each day passed. Amity was starting to forget every color that Luz wasn't. The only colors that she knew were the green of Luz's sweatshirt, the blue of her jeans, the purple of her shoes, the pink of her lips, the warm brown of her skin and dark brown of her hair, and the rich chocolate color of her eyes. Amity relished the times when she saw red in Luz's blush, or the times when they were close enough to see the gold flecks in those chocolate eyes.
In fact, she was pretty sure that her favorite color had become the exact shade of Luz's eyes.
It was pathetic.
Her own form seemed ghostly in comparison, pale skin contrasting with the darker greys and blacks of her clothes.
Maybe she was dead already.
No, she'd remember dying.
Weeks passed, and nothing changed, but everything was different.
Luz would come back in the mornings occasionally, having spent the night with some other troubled soul trapped on the Isles. She'd educate Amity on whatever new tidbit of information she learned, but the big picture was still the same.
Kill a person, accidentally.
Their spirit comes to haunt you.
Gain their trust and perhaps friendship.
Get spirit to forgive you for their death.
Spirit leaves.
It was a very difficult process, Amity was coming to understand.
There were of course the little details, like how spending time together and doing assorted activities caused the process to speed up.
So Luz and Amity, ghost and witch power duo of the century, according to Luz anyhow, set off every weekend on some adventure.
One time they hiked the expansive forests, another they explored a mysterious cave, and a third they had a beach day.
It wasn't much of a beach day though, considering that it was November and freezing outside, but the two spent the day sitting on the sand and watching waves crash against the beach.
That day had been particularly hard on Amity's heart.
During the weekdays, the pair of them would go to school, where Amity would fight to stay awake during lectures she'd already learned. A hobby of hers became watching Luz study the material intently, eyes going wide when she learned something new or particularly interesting.
People watching, indeed.
They might attend a Grudgby game on Fridays, where Luz would cheer wildly, waving imaginary pom-poms, Amity watching her with a stupid smile. The ghost might ask her what she thought of the game, and she'd give a non-committal answer, too distracted by the ghost's antics.
After the first game they attended and Amity told her how she'd once been team captain, Luz practically demanded to be taught how to play.
"Luz, you are physically unable to hold or catch a ball."
I don't care, I still want you to teach me!
Amity suspected that the ghost just wanted to see her play Grudgby.
In a fit of inspiration, she dug out her old varsity jacket, dusty and faded from years of abandonment and put it on. Luz blushed a furious red when she saw Amity in the jacket.
It felt nice to cause that kind of reaction from the ghost.
True to her words, the ball passed straight through Luz whenever she tried to hold it or catch it, but the ghost laughed and tried again anyway.
It physically hurt to see Luz laughing, joy apparent on her face as the ball fell through her translucent hands.
The game eventually turned into Amity basically playing hacky-sack with the ball, bouncing it off her knees and elbows, Luz cheering her on. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and they hurt from grinning wildly.
The twins came outside briefly, eyebrows raised as they looked at Amity with confusion.
"What's the occasion, Mittens?"
She shooed them away, dropping the ball in her distraction. The two eventually went back inside.
I swear, that nickname is so unbelievably cute that it makes me want to die again.
It doesn't fit you at all.
"Oh, be quiet. You're so hot and cold that I think I'm getting a temperature shock."
Why thank you! I am very hot.
With that, Luz grinned at Amity and flexed her biceps, earning a full scale blush from the witch.
Inwardly, her heart broke a little bit more.
Things like that kept happening, and she felt herself falling a little bit more every time they did.
Every time Amity thought that she'd hit rock bottom, Luz threw her a shovel to keep digging further. She was already six feet under.
It got so much worse though.
All these events paled in comparison to the Moonlight Festival.
