[hider=Valentine's Day Out]
[i]For musical accompaniment, and also the song Amy sings to herself[/i]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ViAr5NRHrRE
The orphanage had never really had any money for holiday celebrations. That wasn’t entirely unexpected, of course--What had been was Taylor Maclaurin’s insistence on there always being something done for the holidays. Ms. Maclaurin herself was an older woman with no children or family of her own, and oftentimes she paid for whatever they were did herself.

But she wasn’t wealthy, either. For Christmas they always had a tree, but Ms. Maclaurin would  have finagled one from the city somehow. For Easter, she always made Easter eggs with those that stores were about to throw out--not bad, yet, but not safe to sell. 
For Valentine’s, she would get just enough candy for all of the children to give to each other, but not much more. To that end, Amy was very familiar with the candy hearts with stuff written on them--

But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how Lauren had found some with “Wallahi, bruh” inscribed in their sugary surface. 
Nevertheless, that’s what those in the Bastille dorm were greeted with when they came back after class, a small baggie of them on each of their pillows. Amy was back first--which was roughly normal, she tended to move quickly and didn’t have much to add or discuss at the end of Dust Apps--plus, she wanted to get out of her uniform before socializing, rather than after.

And on today of all days, she needed to be well rested for the night, rather than burning herself out on a lot of extra stuff after class. She undressed, carefully stepping into the shower, letting the warm water run over her body. Her feathers always reacted strangely to water, though after years of practice she could get them to stay down, the water rolling over them in small rivulets rather than just… Soaking them to the point of damage.

She washed up, then paused, her Semblance enhancing slowly, time gradually crawling to a near stop, every little drop of water on her lit up in glorious detail--then she dialed it back down again, returning to normal time and sensation, closing her eyes and feeling the water as the sum of its parts once more.

This would be the first Valentine’s she was spending for herself. 

Amy let out a slow, steady breath, fogging the glass more than it already was. She inhaled again, dialing her semblance up--then released, synchronizing her breath. It was an exercise she’d done for years since she’d received the Gift, the cycle of increasing and decreasing sensation hypnotically calming. She started to sing, softly, her voice’s volume adjusting in time with the cycle--careful to not get too loud, loud enough for anyone else to hear over the water.

“What are you afraid of…”

The cycle went up, then down.

“To laugh and to cry later,”

Again.

“To break the ice… that keeps you quiet.”

Another deep breath, and she was done. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel and letting her feathers spring back into their normal array. 

The plan was for them to go out that night. Amy’s hand found the hairdryer, using it to blow the water out of her hair.
Combs didn’t work too well on feathers, she’d found.

All of them. To a karaoke bar or something. Amy didn’t sing, as a rule. Not to others. Not something she advertised. Still, she was sure Lauren would--and maybe the lot of them could persuade Ben to, if they were lucky. 

Her hair dealt with, she dried the rest of herself off with the towel, then discarded it. She put her underwear on--normal panties and a strapless bra--went to open the door, then paused, looking at the fogged mirror. One pale hand reached out, hesitantly, drawing a quick heart once it contacted the cool surface, putting the initials AD in the right lobe, then a plus sign--before pausing and retreating. 
Maybe. But… But not certainly. She sighed, opening the door, the cool breeze flowing in.

***

The karaoke bar was about as expected. Most people drunkenly hammering their way through Journey covers. None of them had gone up yet--Ben wasn’t wanting to, Sangue was…. Sangue, and Lauren was refusing to unless one of the others “helped a sister out” and sang a duet with her. 

“Come oooooooon, Am,” Lauren cajoled, her emerald green eyes eager and more than a little buzzed. “I need someone to sing the parts of Low I don’t like!”

“Lorena, you know I don’t--”

“You don’t have to actually sing, that nigga Flo Rida ain’t nothing to follow, just hum and you’re already a helluva lot better--”

“Amy, she’s not going to stop until you do something,” Ben chimed in, watching Lauren tug on the Faunus’ hand dramatically. 

“Ben, last I checked you weren’t doing anything yourself.”

Ben held up his arm, a cast on it that looked like it had seen the days of many excuses past. “Can’t, I’m one of the walking wounded.”

“Your… throat isn’t broken,” Sangue finally said.

“Oh, but the pain is unbearable. Truly, I am incapable of holding a note, for I fear it will turn into a scream.”

As Ben and Lauren transferred into an argument, her grasp going slack on Amy’s hand for a moment, Amy slowed time once more, watching her teammate’s faces--Sangue’s slight goodnatured bewilderment, Lauren’s malicious joy, Ben’s teasing kindness.

[i]Relax with me and tell me,
Because we’re here for you,
For the good and for the bad,
To cry and to laugh later.[/i]

“I’ll do it.”

Time accelerated, Lauren looking toward her in shock that was quickly covered with a grin, pulling the former stripper to her feet. Ben watched with amusement.

“But I pick the song.”

As they walked to the stage and the first chords of their chosen song started, Amy smiled slightly. It wasn't meant for a duet, but hey... It worked.

"You're a song, written by the hands of God," Amy started, nervously, her voice gaining confidence toward the end.
"Now don't get me wrong, 'cause this might sound to you a bit odd..."
"But you own the place, where all my thoughts go hiding," Lauren's voice met hers, and they continued on.

***

Later that night, when she returned to the dorm and went to wash the makeup off her face--the mirror fogged again, revealing another set of initials written next to hers.

And she smiled.[/hider]