but her face and the way it's silently judging her i can't

heyparadiamonds  asked:

(Sorry this is so late today was just so eventful) ok so for an amedot prompt im thinkin them sitting on the grass during the sunset venting to each other in frustration. things slowly get from angsty to romantic when they passionately kiss and hug for super long lmao. And then they start feeling better then They are back to joking around!

Peridot can hear her before she’s actually there, a boisterous growl reverberating out across the rolling sand banks, “They are absolutely going to kill me!” and echoing in a manner reminiscent of the Kindergarten.

She can feel her next, the sudden gust of wind as she clunks down beside her, lavender locks billowing out to whip Peridot lightly in the face, and it’s only then that she rouses from her own moodiness to glance over at the purple gem on her right.

She notices instantly the slump of her shoulders, the way her hair appears more mussed than usual, and especially the deepness of her eyes, the hollowness; if she peers closely enough, she can see the redness, and just how painfully they shimmer.

When she sighs, it’s shaky and as though another thousand pounds is added to the atmosphere. “Honestly, I swear …”

Peridot decides to chance a concerned, albeit slightly annoyed (she hasn’t exactly come out here for company), “What’s with you?”

And Amethyst laughs something bitter that doesn’t quite sit well in Peridot’s core, “Seriously, what is with me?”

She tilts forward until her chin rests on her knees, fingers curling, twisting into her hair, and Peridot instinctively takes the other one before it does the same, yet the purple gem doesn’t seem to notice.

She only groans into the black stars on her kneecaps, “What the hell is wrong with me?” and Peridot awkwardly tweedles her thumbs because she loathes when Amethyst is feeling this way, and she loathes that she’s so admittedly subpar when it comes to words that she has absolutely nothing reassuring to say,

“Do … do you, ah, actually want me to—”

But here, Amethyst scoffs, “Nah, don’t worry your pretty, lil nerd brain, Peri. I already know …” A growl of frustration comes next, “And they already know, so why is it like they- like they don’t have anything better to do than look into every little mistake that I make!” Peridot watches her pause, watches her lips lift into a wry grin that makes something in her chest figuratively plummet instead of lift. “Though that’s probably because I am a mistake, isn’t it …”

When Amethyst exhales again, Peridot is a little suprised. She attempts to level herself, then inhales with a deep sniffle, rubbing away the wetness that Peridot’s seen in her eyes.

And she squeezes her hand lightly. (So she’s noticed after all.)

“But enough about me …” Purple fingers run themselves lightly along Peridot’s palm, “What’s eatin’ you, babe?”

The question is momentarily stunning; she looks over and Amethyst is giving her a small, hesitant smile and something tingles in her fingertips at the prospect that the Quartz could be so perceptive of her “emotions.”

“You never bother to watch the sunset unless you need a distraction.”

This is true.  The colors are a mellow, warm kind of chaotic that reminds her … admittedly of the one beside her. Even so, she grumbles, “Nothing’s eating me,” just to perhaps see the purple gem giggle at how she is supposedly still unacquainted with earthling dialect. “It’s just …”

Her eyes shift back to the temple.

Amethyst seems to catch on. Sourly, she snorts, “Is it Pearl and Garnet?”

Well. It’s not necessarily them themselves. Even so, sharp twists down low in her abdominals.

All at once, she squeezes her eyes shut and breathes, “Why am I even here?”

It wasn’t loud, but it still rings out obnoxiously across the beach, echoing in a way that has her cognizant of the fact that she’s actually said it aloud, and not merely in her head— that she’s forced to elaborate.

“I-I’m weak without my limb enhancers— I can’t help you fight. I don't— I can’t fuse.” Self-consciously, she brings her arms around her knees. She should’ve kept quiet. The words are coming too fast. She doesn’t need everything out in the open, however … “Even Pearl can do as much mechanically as I can …  I don’t need to be here. I don’t fit.”

She suddenly feels cold with all of her inner turmoil out here, existing in the same air as herself, and Amethyst is silent for what seems so long that she can feel her throat locking, and eyes burning, and there it is— she’s being judged isn’t she?

Her mindset about herself is right, isn’t it?

But then Amethyst takes her hand this time, weaving their fingers together to murmur, “Hey, Peri, look.”

Peridot doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be looking at.

“Your hands fit in mine.” A purple arm slinks around the green gem’s shoulders, pulls her close, and the coldness begins to dissipate. “Your body fits real nice, right next to mine.”

They’re so close that Peridot can pinpoint each instance of Amethyst’s feather-light hair fluttering against her cheek, that she can feel her body move every time she breathes, yet Peridot can't— she can’t settle for an answer like that, so insubstantial and groundless.

Just as she’s about to open her mouth, however, the other gem turns to face her, “We all want you here, anyway.” Peridot’s palms are sweating. There’s something simultaneously soothing and nerve-wracking whenever Amethyst’s voice takes on this low tone. “And I, uh … I want you here.”

The soft brush of full, violet lips to hers is a little too inviting. They moment they touch her, Peridot is gripping her hand, and tilting her head, and her visor is knocked a little off-kilter, but it feels too familiar for her to care.

She feels like she needs this. This clingy, earthling, touchy-feely-ness, but it works for her, and it makes her feel warm, and like a person.

“I know I shouldn’t be talking,” Amethyst mumbles quietly when she pulls away (and Peridot’s staring too hard at her plum-colored blush), fingers to her hair and a laugh bordering between sullen and sheepish, “but you at least don’t need to feel like you don’t belong.”

The words she couldn’t think of before suddenly all but flood from her mouth at Amethyst’s sincerity, and her proximity, and the frayed, singed nerves on her lips, “You'renotamistake!”

Amethyst blinks, slow and feline-esque.

Peridot swallows thickly, clenching one fist. “I like the way you are. You’re fine the way you are. You aren’t a mistake.”

And the response is immediate. Amethyst grabs her by the cheeks and kisses her again, something bruising and wet, but relieved, and actually, those are Peridot’s favorite kinds of kisses.

Then she laughs, full-bodied and obnoxious and genuine. Peridot thinks, fleetingly, that everything about her is sensuously appealing. “You’re such a dork.”

It’s something of a compliment when it comes from Amethyst, yet their kiss has her feeling giddy and playful, so she retorts with a, “You take that back, or else …”

Wriggling her eyebrows, Amethyst responds, “Or else whaaaat~?” so Peridot tackles her backward into the sand.

“You’ll, uh— you’ll get a head full of silicon dioxide particles, nyeheheheh!”

It’s an Amethyst-like way of wheedling out a hug, truthfully, and Amethyst takes the bait, falling with her, then twirling until they’re both rolling across the sand with snorting giggles.

“Ha, well long as you do too!”