Hunted

Act 25; Prison

It was dawn when Amelia decided to exit her room. She looked around to see if anyone else was at the hallway and, when there weren't any, proceeded to the door next to hers. She knocked gently, worried for a second that she might wake the occupant even though she was assured yesterday that she wasn't, then a voice called out from inside.

"Coming!"

The door opened and a flushed face emerged, her damp brown hair messily twirled into a towel as her chocolate eyes gleamed in excitement. Had she been waiting for me? Amelia wondered.

"Yes?" Rachel asked immediately, excitedly, doing the same excited bouncing Amelia found adorable the first time they met last night when she introduced herself. It looked even more adorable now.

"Yeah, um, sorry for the bother again-

"No! Not a bother at all! I'm glad to help!" Rachel cut in, wringing her fingers suddenly and biting her lip, as though afraid she'd scared her off.

Amelia gave her a relieved smile-or at least, as best a smile she could give anybody else. "I'm really grateful anyway." Before Rachel could faint, she quickly added "Actually, I wanted to go for a walk." Amelia stated politely. "But I still feel cold with just a turtleneck. I wondered if you had a spare coat or something-and gloves?" She remembered last night with Noah and hoped she didn't blush too hard.

Rachel looked ecstatic. "Of course!" And she raced back in her room as she said "Come in! Come in!"

Amelia took the invitation and entered the premises, recognizing the same golden walls that draped her own temporary abode, although Rachel had took it upon herself to decorate her walls with framed, breathtaking paintings. It only took her a second to recognize that the paintings were of DDA-Amelia recognized the landscapes from her earlier walks with Noah. She felt herself blush again, remembering last night, remembering him. His smile, his voice, his walk, that cute way he brushed his hair out of his eyes-

"You can choose from these!" Rachel suddenly called out, gesturing to three gorgeous coats on her bed, which had a calming blue blanket and neatly stacked pillows of different shapes and sizes, each having its own embroidery on it.

Amelia stepped closer to the bed, looking at her choices. One was a hot pink blazer that looked thick and comfy, but way too eye-catching. The second one was a simple blue parka with a fur-lined hood. The third was an adorably embroidered white fleece that seemed too thin. She raised her hand toward the fleece, the gleam of hopeful excitement that passed over Rachel's features didn't go unmissed, but she merely examined the embroidery on the fleece, no intention of choosing it.

"You did it yourself, I assume?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, as though unable to trust her voice to speak, but there was already a sinking look on her, and Amelia knew that Rachel knew as well.

Amelia laid the fleece back on the bed as carefully as she could, as though it was a precious jewel, but since she never learned any housework in her life, she didn't dare try to fold it, worried she'd just embarrass herself. Picking the parka up, Amelia turned to Rachel and said, "You have an amazing hand. My Fashionista, Sir Saffron, would be really impressed by you. I take it embroidery isn't your only strong suit?" She asked, looking around the room at the multiple paintings lined along the walls, some of sunsets and some of snow and another of rain. On the floor, leaning on her desk as though trying hard to hide, was an unfinished sketch of what Amelia deduced was a human, walking away.

Rachel's sigh brought her back. "Yeah, it isn't." She said bashfully, unaware that Amelia had surveyed the room and noticed the fragmentary sketch. "But I never really finish anything major. Only rarely. I'm at the habit of starting something with gusto and dropping it midway through. These paintings," She gestured to the walls, "Are class projects I had to finish. My real personality can be seen on my pillows."