By now, the bloody coughing had subsided into drier, shallower hacks. Her voice had gotten a little better, but being cooped up in the hospital for so long had taken a definite toll on Ami's normal air-tight facade and confidence. She sniffled a little, and after a moment of quick contemplation she shuffled up into a sitting position. "...yeah."

She sounded... young. She looked young as well, pale and haggard and bereft of any high collar to hide behind. She had been restricted to a pale pink set of hospital pajamas—there was a faint daisy pattern in a darker shade of pink, because they had been forced to choose from the young children's selection for her. Her eyes, moderately less foggy than they had been for the majority of her stay, quickly flicked to the flowers.

Cut, not potted. The knot in her chest loosened. She was still expected to leave soon, thank goodness.