Building A Problem | Jasiper

4. Full stop

The window was fogging, as Piper's breath hit it. The cold mixing with her warm breath. Maybe it was still warm from the night's workout. Maybe, the panic inside her manifested as a heated breath. Maybe, it was just cold outside.

   She didn't know. What she mostly knew was her pounding headache. A result of the four tequilas she'd had last night. Four tequilas, four beers, four acquaintances, four forgotten hours. Hungover. Maybe, she had a moral hangover, too.

   The guilt of what she'd done lashed through her. Fuck. She'd actually done that... She'd actually...

   No. She had done nothing of the sort. She was just simply delusional. The Gods were messing with her. Maybe, her mother had sent a curse her way. Maybe, it was Dionysus, that thickhead, who'd gotten her fuck-all drunk and left her with a hangover and delusions. Much more likely.

   Because what had happened in that flat, hadn't actually happened—she was sure of it.

   It couldn't have happened. It mustn't have. Piper loved Jason—that much she was sure of. So why would she ever have done what she did? No one who loved someone else did that. No one loved someone with all their heart by day, only to give it out for a night.

   She remembered being at the pier, the water spreading endlessly before her. She'd thought of Percy and Annabeth, how their love had only seemed to flourish with time. Like a flower in an endless spring, growing and growing and growing.

   She wished her and Jason could be like that. A small bud, blooming when sunlight hits it, reaching higher and higher and higher. But it seemed that no sunlight had been cast upon them. So there they were, left to wither, to look at all the other buds blooming, stealing their sunlight.

   But no. Other's progress was not equal to their own demise, Piper knew that. They could all flourish together. Both individually, as partners, and as a group. But then, why hadn't her and Jason bloomed like the others?

   She had wished to silence the thoughts. That was why she was on the pier, the waves lapping loudly against it, water spraying on her face and dress. Somehow, they felt both scorching and soothing at the same time. Pure bliss and pure agony. The duality of a breaking heart, set free–being set free.

   She hadn't planned to jump in the water. But she had meant to do it when she did, the water swallowing her whole body, ice cold. For a moment, she let herself float in the weightlessness, enjoying the freedom of it all. The tranquility. In that moment, she had no responsibilities, no burdens. There was only her and the water surrounding her.

   But then she'd come to her senses. She could not drown. Not when she was so unresolved about Jason. He needed to know how much she loved him.

   So she swam and swam and swam, until her head broke through the surface, taking in a big gulp of air. It was crisp, filling her lungs with renewed energy.

   And she swam back to the shore, her long, white dress clinging onto her body like she was its tether to life. Her hair clung to her face, slapping her when a breeze caught it. The smell of salt filled her nose, the taste of it, her mouth.

   She went to her car, put on her coat. It was warm, and, unlike her, smelled of Jason. She nearly cried.

   She sat in the car, dripping wet, but for her face. She reapplied her makeup. Something to keep her centered. Something she knew how to control.

   Then, she drove. She did not know where to, until she saw the bar she had read so much about recently. A gay bar.

   She went inside, greeted by a beautiful woman her own age. Maybe the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

   Luckily, the woman had a suit that Piper could borrow. It fit her perfectly. Then, she danced.

   Technically, she did remember what had transpired in those hours. She ordered tequila; a recipe for disaster. Maybe it was what she'd wanted. Maybe the tequila was a method of self destruction. If I can't do it myself, maybe it can. She'd had her fair share of bad experiences with tequila, and yet, she ordered it. And she drank it with a smile on her face, too. Enticing the woman who'd given her the suit. Maybe it wasn't the tequila who'd been at fault. Maybe, it had been herself.

   She sat in the cab, trying to arrange the memories of what had happened. Not because she didn't remember. Not because it had been bad. Because it had been good. And that terrified Piper more than she could ever express in words. That a single night with the woman who'd leant her a suit and tie, could set more fireworks alight in her, than Jason had ever been able to.

   But she couldn't tell Jason. He didn't deserve that, he really didn't. But she also felt bad for the woman—Shel had been her name. How she had used her to knock the fear of Jason leaving her out of her mind. Of course, Shel hadn't known that. She had been a puppet on a string in Piper's hand—a puppet she didn't know she was holdning until now. Now, where she had the benefit of retrospect.

   Fucking shite, she'd messed up. And she'd messed up badly.

   She sat in the dress she had worn in the water. It was still damp, clinging to her figure. She didn't care. She hadn't even looked the cab driver in the eyes when she'd told him where to go. She wasn't sure she could ever look anyone else in the eyes again. Not after the feelings that had stirred inside her when she looked Shel in the eyes.

   A phase. Words she'd told herself so many times before coming out to Jason. It's just a phase. But when she saw the hungry, lustful look in Shel's eyes and a ball of need had formed in her stomach, she knew that it was far from a phase.

   But she also knew that she couldn't tell Jason that. He loved her, and she loved him, and that was what mattered most, even when she couldn't wipe the look in Shel's eyes from her mind, the way her nose stud had glistened in the moonlight, how her dark hair had felt in her hands.

   She needed it all to stop, and she needed it all to stop now. 

   For you cannot love someone by day, and lend your heart by night.