Samantha Cassidy

The Fae Queen seemed to be entirely gone as her gaze remained steady on the floor as she listened to the two of her companions seem to bicker at one another. Vhalla's mood seeming entirely to chip away at the cool, polite demeanor of Dorian. Sam's own annoyance for the white-haired woman seeming to rise with her egging on Dorian. Her roommate seemed to be the only person - outside of Aiden Tetradore - that Samantha could say that she loved, and to hear the witch attempt to nag him only worked to annoying her. When Vhalla glanced over at Sam, the Fae Queen's blue eyes settled on the woman with an icy stare. "Please, be kind." She muttered, though that was the extent of what she would say towards the two of them. If they wanted to bicker, Sam was content to allow it, the girl only stepping in when she felt that flare up of Vhalla's power, immediately the girl tugging at the threads of her emotions to shove her back towards calm. How exhausting this night would be if Vhalla kept that up.

It was the mention of Frost that seemed to truly lose the girl, her eyes almost glassy as she tried so desperately to keep her emotions in check. After what she'd just told Vhalla combined with the paranoia that the world outside her apartment held for her, she was finding the mention of Frost and all the things he'd told her to be entirely exhausting. She was unaware of the way that Vhalla continued to tease Dorian, nor the way that Dorian seemed so be baffled by the question of who wore the hair better, nor that he so lightly insulted the girl by the unkempt fashion in which she wore it. Perhaps if she had been more alert, she would have scolded them both for acting like children. But as it was, she was only focused on that nervous habit of gnawing on her nails if only to hide the trembling in her hands.

It was Dorian's tone in speaking her name that had Samantha look up, her hand jerking out of her mouth as she jumped. She felt certainly as though every nerve ending on her body was on edge. "I... Yes... I..." She dropped her hand to her side, whipping them on her pajama pants as she didn't quite meet Dorian's gaze. "I'm fine, Dori." She whispered, her tone entirely affectionate with her friend. "I've just been... practicing with my powers a bit today. I'm tired." She looked between the two of them as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "It's late, shall we continue to bicker with one another or should we go get some rest?"

The only thing that the faerie girl wanted to do was curl up within her bed, where she could be as distressed as she wanted without their eyes on her. She was sure she looked a mess with the way she was trembling and nervous. She looked small. Hell, she felt small. And yet the girl had no words to explain how she was feeling. Not to Dorian, who had already proved to be so worried about her mental state after he'd seen her cry on the floor.