(Untitled)

[turns_to_fire]

WHO: Amara turns_to_fire and Sam ahhmahgawd
WHERE: A diner in the city
WHEN: Sunday afternoon
WARNINGS: Ricky Martin Southernness None
SUMMARY: Amara meets Sam for food. They talk about love, life, and maybe even burgers.
FORMAT: Parablondes

Comments

[ahhmahgawd]

Sam landed a couple blocks away, just in an alley. Though he was really used to using his powers whenever the hell he wanted, he did have some tact. He walked the rest of the way to the diner, his goggles hanging around his neck as he did so. He was wearing a dark coloured jacket, but that was about it. Flying usually didn't call for clothing too warm, as his forcefield protected him from just about everything. He hadn't actually noticed how cold he was until he started walking. Weird.

He spotted Amara the second he was close enough; she always stood out in a crowd, and Sam knew that would never change.

"Hey, girl." he greeted with a smile. Yeah, he was still upset about Tabitha, but he didn't blame Amara for it. Not at all.

[turns_to_fire]

"Hi, Sam," Amara looked him over for a moment, just to see if everything was okay. His clothes looked entirely too thin and that worried her. His face seemed relaxed enough, though, and not unhappy. Roberto had been worried about his friend and of course, so was she, but maybe there was nothing to be worried about.

Worry, worry, worry, it was all anyone could do lately. During that entire phone tag situation, she had been the voice of reason but that was only because she wasn't really involved. It didn't sit well with Amara that Roberto kind of stole Sam's girlfriend but the past was the past. It looked like Sam and Roberto had been as close as ever. The whole situation was kind of a mystery.

"Are you hungry?"

[ahhmahgawd]

"You bet, 'Mara," Sam told her with another smile. He gestured towards the door to the diner, then opened it for her. "C'mon. Ah just know you spent a ton of cash on that nice new coat, so Ah'm buyin'."

[turns_to_fire]

There was really no arguing with Sam when it came to things like this. It would just be a waste of breath and awkward and not gracious in the least. And it wasn't like they were going out to a five star restaurant, so he wouldn't be tapped out on her account.

"Thank you. That's generous of you," she walked inside, taking off her gloves and unbuttoning her coat once the warmth of the heat hit her. "And I didn't spend 'a ton', per se."

A lot but not a ton. And it was an investment, anyway.