Amity hasn't done this for years, just sat and slowly picked petals off a flower, counting each one. It's nothing but a superstition, but Amity feels like being a little superstitious right now, since all logic tends to desert her in the face of Luz.
She loves me.
Luz is bright. It's hard to explain, but she's bright, like there's a fire inside her and it keeps shining out through her eyes, constantly. No matter what she gets put through. The fire is too powerful and too dangerous to get too close to, but it's so bright and so beautiful that Amity finds herself looking for Luz between classes, just to look at her eyes again. It makes her feel like she's floating.
Amity's seen that fire on some people before. It showed in Willow's eyes when Amity pushed her down too many times and she started fighting back. It shows in Edric and Emira's eyes when they stop with their pranks and cruelty once in a while. She doesn't see it on adults, usually, not even Lilith. But when Eda got into a witches' duel at Covention, there was that fire.
Amity's never seen the fire in her own eyes, and she's sure she's never felt it. It must feel light, and hot, and maybe a little uncomfortable and has to be let out through the eyes. She doesn't know.
She loves me not.
Luz has her human ways that confuse Amity, and she in turn is bewildered by every common occurrence on the Boiling Isles. Amity had to show her which trees are safe to climb and which suck blood with their vines, and then she said that in her world none of the trees are dangerous.
She loves me.
Luz is succeeding in every class, despite her limited spells and abilities. Her Glyphs, she calls them, are more powerful than even Amity's spells. They tried a duel once. Amity sent a fireball she thought Luz would never be able to block, and Luz threw up a wall of ice that put out the fireball harmlessly, then while Amity was conjuring Abominations to go around the wall, she just tossed a glyph at Amity that wrapped her up in vines.
Luz asked if Amity let her win, and Amity denied it every time.
She loves me not.
Amity's never been good with people. She's never been good with emotions. And humans in particular are hard to read. She doesn't know how Luz feels when she rushes over and hugs Amity at the beginning of each day, or when she says "what are friends for?" and Amity has to laugh a little and agree, when it feels like her heart is getting ripped to pieces.
Love is far too complicated and bittersweet.
…
It takes Luz a little while to find a flower that doesn't shout at her or try to bite her hand off, but eventually she does find one and sits down within earshot of the Owl House, but far enough away that she doesn't have to explain herself to King or Eda, or deal with Hooty being nosy. She tugs the first white petal off and lets it drop to the ground.
She loves me.
Amity is complicated. At first sight, she was just one of those girls, like the ones back home who would say Luz couldn't sit with them or trip her up as she walked by. But she – she turned out to be different. Underneath all the insults and the barbs and the thorns was someone entirely different. Someone lonely, someone confused, someone who needed a friend. And Luz was happy to be her friend, because it meant for once that she had friends.
She loves me not.
Amity still doesn't quite understand the whole "friendship" thing. She screws up and calls Luz "Human" once in a while, and she still looks down her nose at Willow and Gus when she forgets. She still obsesses over being the best, until she doesn't eat or sleep because she's too busy practicing a spell.
When that happens, Luz is as supportive as she can be. She covers for Amity when she naps through a class with her head on their shared desk. She never corrects Amity about the little things that slip out. She's as good a friend as she can be. But what if that isn't enough?
She loves me.
Luz still doesn't quite understand Amity a lot of the time, but when they understand each other it's like they're two halves of the same person. Their defeat of Grom was spontaneous but still almost choreographed, the two moving in perfect unison. Amity's gentle touches guided Luz through dancing she never thought she could do. Their Grudgby match, even though they lost, felt the same. Amity's abominations cleared a path for Luz when it was needed, and Luz threw up ice spikes to protect Amity when she was in danger. When Boscha tackled Amity, Luz could have sworn she felt Amity's pain before she even consciously knew that Amity was hurt.
It's like they're two halves of the same person sometimes. Luz will finish Amity's sentences, and Amity will look annoyed about it but she never stops Luz. They fit together comfortably.
She loves me not.
Amity is a witch. Luz can try, and she can make glyphs and use tricks and logic, but she'll never be a witch. She'll never be as good as Amity, no matter how many spells she learns. She'll never be good enough for Amity.
The last petal falls to the ground, and Luz crushes it with her foot when she stands up. It was a dumb superstition anyway.
…
"Humans are so dumb," King complains as Eda squints into her cracked crystal ball. "I mean seriously, why doesn't one of them just say it?"
Eda rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly at her human and the faint shadow of Amity in the glass.
"They're young. Young people are stupid and make stupid mistakes."
King nods, evidently accepting her explanation.
"Ten snails says it's Luz who confesses first," he says.
Eda shakes her head.
"It'll be Amity who blurts it out when she's nervous or one of them is about to die. And make it fifty."