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Her parents weren’t the typical kind. Amity Blight knew that at a young age.
They worked like well oiled machines around each other. Their hushed conversations over seperate sides of tables grew strained when they extended too long. If business was not their center of talk, there was simply no talking. And if there were, it was always about the future success of their equally pressured children.
Marriages, Amity read, are supposed to be oaths to unwavering kindness and doting to a person of choice. There’s supposed to be reassurance and gentleness. The kind you look for after a long day.
Amity figures it must be just fictional ideals, because her parents are never ones to show each other such. Her mother, a parent with an iron fist, leads with dictatorship. There is no doting, even with her children. And her father is far too tired or meek to do much about it.
The Blight Manor is as its name suggests. Simply a manor. Amity had never quite been comfortable to call it home. Not in the way her friends did. She never looked to her parents with eyes sparkling in the way Willow did every time she went over.
She planned her life meticulously, that at least offered a basis of control under her parent’s distant or cold demeanors.
She’d one day find her place in the Emperor’s coven. And like her mentor, she wouldn’t need the warmth of other people. Miss Lilith told her she simply never desired it, and Amity tried to convince herself of that too.
And yet–how lovely did it seem to curl up with someone at the end of a tiring day. She wanted it so badly, she knew that in the darkest corners of her subconscious. That flare of jealousy every time she watched a child of her age lean into the embrace of their parents. She felt the bitterness as two adults proved that love could persevere.
Because if it did, what did Amity lack? Was she unworthy of experiencing it?
Amity knew herself to be mean and defiant. But she didn’t mean any of it, not really. It just seemed like the easiest path to her goals. Loving takes time. And patience.
She just–she just felt indifferent to it all.
Willow had been a good friend. She let her go. She refused to confide in her teasing siblings who understand what it’s like to be unhappy in their role.
She didn’t need friendship or the genuine kindness of others. Or at least, she convinced herself of that much. It made it that much easier to be ready to give it up for a dream she isn’t sure is completely hers.
And then suddenly–an energetic human with a knack for never giving up knocked her off her feet. Amity realized rather quickly that her heart hadn’t given up. It lurched, grasped for the girl who, despite Amity’s intense behavior, continued to be kind.
It startled Amity. How could the human be so nice to her despite everything she said? Everything she ever did to be an unkind witch seemed not to phase her. Luz was relentless. Maybe even overdid it. She pushed when Amity wanted to be left alone. She popped up when the girl wanted nothing to do with the beginner witch.
And yet.
And yet..Amity felt oddly charmed. Enamored.
The human pinched and pulled at all the things Amity felt necessary to hide. She unintentionally unraveled the vulnerability the young witch thought she’d never let anyone see.
She was excited. And nervous. And terrified.
Because would it be like all the love she’s been shown? Would it be conditional? Would Luz start to see the imperfections and decide she wasn’t enough? Amity desperately wanted to be enough. She never felt such feelings. She never once wanted— truly wanted— to be around another person. Luz pulled her near until Amity realized she never wanted to leave.
In the absence of the human, she realized that love did exist. She, Amity Blight, could experience it. She felt it in Luz’s smiles thrown her way. Their quiet conversations in Abomination classes. The way Luz remembered little quirks about her.
She did it without thinking; like it was just the thing to do.
Amity wanted to love and to be loved.
And that revelation made her life all the more important. The silliness of covens and being her mother’s trophy just felt so trivial. Nothing had ever given her such a push to be the type of girl she always knew she could be. A much kinder, dorkier girl.
The fears drowned in her adoration. She could not lose herself as long as Luz held out her hand.
In the unspoken tenderness, Amity realized what she actually wanted. She wanted Willow. She wanted friends, the real kind. She wanted to spill her thoughts to her siblings that love their little sister through their strained family drama.
She wanted relationships that made her feel special. She wanted dreams that belonged solely to herself. She wanted quiet conversations filled with minuscule details about her day, not about business plans. She wanted mundane chores and sharing cups of tea in early morning sunshine.
She didn’t want her parents. She didn’t want to be a product of Blight industries.
She’d be Amity. Just Amity. And that’d be enough.
There was before Luz the human.
Then there was after.
And after shined so much more brightly.
-
Amity adjusts her vision. She rubs her eyes and stirs.
The purple haired witch smiles down at her girlfriend, who is snuggled into her side, arm looped around her. She kisses her head and Luz instinctively smiles sleepily.
She glances around, taking in the softness of the morning. Willow and Hunter are pressed against each other, their backs touching. Gus is fast asleep beside his pseudo big brother Hunter. Amity sighs softly. It’s the safest place.
Amity Blight thought she’d never find love. It was never in her plan.
And now she can’t imagine her world without it.
Cause then there was Luz, the exception to it all.
Love exists. It exists relentlessly, kindly and courageously. She just needed to be reminded she deserved it.