One of Amelia's few gifts (or so she would say) seems to be taking conversations from pleasant to sad in the span of a single breath. That she's done it again doesn't surprise her, though her features tug in an pained way for a half second before she focuses on his words, tries to move back to a more positive attitude. ...it doesn't work.

"So even when I have control, I'll be spending the rest of my life fighting to keep it? And, since I'm starting so late in my life, I'm unlikely to impress anyone with what little I can do until I'm too old for it to matter?" She sighs and slouches back into the couch, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "I don't have time to wait. I need to learn as fast as I can, to be good at this now." Why must all of her plans fall apart so quickly? Why must those things that she want always be unattainable? It's not fair and it's that fact, above all else, that makes her frown.