[ Having been prepared to have to stand her ground and claw her way into getting Amos to come home— she's left at a slight loss when he gives in so easily. Now she's feeling like perhaps she came on a bit too firm... but what were her and Gen supposed to do? Seeing that dead look in his eyes in Venera, knowing for a fact that he was willing to do whatever it takes to ward her off - it had only made her think of having to go to the extremes whenever she eventually retrieved him.
And it was a question of "when," not "if." Amos is different from the other Kenoma— too similar to herself for her to really abandon, even in the face of how he'd acted, and what she'd seen. It horrified her, of course, having to watch and feel it all so vividly. But it's not as though she feels disgusted by him or afraid of that capability for violence— it's... well, it's nothing, really. There's not a lick of remorse or judgment that she has for his actions in his memories. Only what had happened directly after.
Not that she can really make herself be angry at him... just at the situation. The tears welling up in her eyes spill over, but she wipes them away quickly, digging into one of her pockets to lay a few jools on the bar counter so that they can go. There's a heavy, dense silence as the pair make it out into the evening air, with Misa taking her time so that they don't cross paths with Gen again. Once they're finally out in the open again, with the door safely shut, she clenches both her hands, only holding herself back from giving him a good whack in the chest with one of her fists because he genuinely looks like shit. ]
—We don't have to talk about anything. [ She declares, still scrubbing at her face, frustrated. There's no point in beating around the bush. She'll just let her stance be known right away. ] I just... you have to go back. I don't care if you're mad at me, but you're going back home. Don't try any funny business...
[ And she really means that, too. Because that's who Misa is— she just does what she thinks is best for the people she cares about, doesn't really weigh in the other person's opinion of her very much into the equation. And she has to assume he has some level of 'not wanting to see her' in his heart.. it's natural, after what happened. She could accept it. ]
no subject
And it was a question of "when," not "if." Amos is different from the other Kenoma— too similar to herself for her to really abandon, even in the face of how he'd acted, and what she'd seen. It horrified her, of course, having to watch and feel it all so vividly. But it's not as though she feels disgusted by him or afraid of that capability for violence— it's... well, it's nothing, really. There's not a lick of remorse or judgment that she has for his actions in his memories. Only what had happened directly after.
Not that she can really make herself be angry at him... just at the situation. The tears welling up in her eyes spill over, but she wipes them away quickly, digging into one of her pockets to lay a few jools on the bar counter so that they can go. There's a heavy, dense silence as the pair make it out into the evening air, with Misa taking her time so that they don't cross paths with Gen again. Once they're finally out in the open again, with the door safely shut, she clenches both her hands, only holding herself back from giving him a good whack in the chest with one of her fists because he genuinely looks like shit. ]
—We don't have to talk about anything. [ She declares, still scrubbing at her face, frustrated. There's no point in beating around the bush. She'll just let her stance be known right away. ] I just... you have to go back. I don't care if you're mad at me, but you're going back home. Don't try any funny business...
[ And she really means that, too. Because that's who Misa is— she just does what she thinks is best for the people she cares about, doesn't really weigh in the other person's opinion of her very much into the equation. And she has to assume he has some level of 'not wanting to see her' in his heart.. it's natural, after what happened. She could accept it. ]