"𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴.. 𝘶𝘮, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯... 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴!"
"𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴."
Amelia was raised on sweet tea and Sunday mornings, but after the untimely passing of her father, her family trades Texas wheat fields for...
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𖧷
Everything seems fine at the moment, for Amelia. She moved to New York, saved her best friend, and never used her powers again. They caused so much destruction in so little time; the common outlier that derailed her life. So she fixed the complex problem by putting them to rest and staying normal. Unlike the new superhero, Spider-Man, she hasn't even made a make-shift, crappy sweatsuit for herself yet.
She walks, as content as she could be, holding a plant identical to the one Cash held in his hand. "Plants are dangerous. They'll become a darn addiction if you don't watch yourself," Amelia warns. Cash looks up at her, puzzled. "I speak from personal experience." Amelia nods, looking down at her happy little plant.
It's a snake plant, which is a very good plant for beginners. It requires water nearly every ten days, and moderate sunlight and care. Something easy for Cash to take care of, Amelia figured.
When she first bought her first plant, she would check up on it almost every hour, filled with joy every time her eyes laid sight on the small cactus. What she didn't realize is that the cactus gave her a sense of responsibility; she had to remember when to water it, give it sunlight, mix the soil, all of that. With cash being eight, deserved to learn that.
He was adapting well to New York streets, staying close to Amelia and far from the road, which made the walk home from Calloway's simple and brief. The seven flights of stairs were, as well (to Amelia, but not to Cash).
Thinking of how many times Amelia has scaled those stairs, she must have strong legs. That girl does not skip leg day.
No amount of steps, however, could prepare her for what she was about to walk into-- what was about to change her life forever.
Amelia walks right past him, at first. She's too preoccupied with putting her plant into a pot she made in ceramics. Just a few minutes later, Preston breathlessly enters her room, the door flying open.
"Amelia!" He gasps, still in search of his breath. "To... ny.... st... he's.."
"Pres, how bout 'cha catch your breath, then talk. That way I can understand ya." Amelia says, not looking up from her snake plant as she moves the soil.
Aside from three very deep breaths from Preston and some soft Christian music, her rooms entirely quite.
"Tony-Stark-is-in-the-living-room-waiting-to-talk-to-you-about-a-grant!" His words are to fast for Amelia to catch.
"You're gonna need to repeat that."
"Tony Stark... is in our living room... waiting to talk to you." He says slowly, mocking Amelia.
