Mac Vs PC: Infected

Scroll

"By the time you realize you're in trouble, it's too late to save yourself. Unless you're running scared all the time, you're gone." —Bill Gates (Windows/PC)

--

Riding shotgun in William's truck, Piper focused on the road rather than the thin, masculine hand that lay innocent on her thigh. She never minded that he was affectionate; his flesh craved flesh as if it needed her to survive. She was flattered. But today was different. His touch felt different. Was it because she knew what lay under the touch? Did he mean what he said about love?

Fidgeting under his touch, Piper couldn't help but wonder what he even knew of love. "You love me?"

Silence answered her. His fingers didn't grip the wheel, his breathing didn't change and Piper thought he would perhaps deny it. Loving her was always a mistake. Loving her always ended up in disaster.

"I didn't expect you to bring this up. I figured it would be me wanting to talk about it." His fingers lightly curved under the wheel to rub at the palm of his hands, giving away an iota of nerves. She finally turned to face him, her body opening to him.

"You said you love me." Things were never this awkward between them. It was an easy relationship. He was there for her to rant and vent about sports, her scholarship and of course, Mac. She was there to inspire his music, sometimes singing along when he wrote a duet. There was a balance. No competition. It was an easy relationship.

"I did." He glanced her way looking into the rear view mirror as he switched lanes.

"You did say that, or you did love me, as in past tense." She wasn't fishing for compliments or reasons why he would love her eternally. She just wanted him to take it back. She wanted her life back to normal where she could think about Pam without feeling sick, where she could go to Mac's game without betraying Will. The pressure was insurmountable, and it hurt.

"I know which one you prefer and it isn't that one." His thumb rubbed her outer thigh, making her twitch. "You aren't scared that I love you, you're afraid that you are losing control. I'm not trying to take that away from you, Piper."

"It isn't about that." Her movements lacked passion, her voice weak from the slight anxiety radiating from his body. "I don't want to control you."

"That's why I love you. You make me work for you, you make me notice the little things about you and I'd be damned if I don't appreciate them. You live for the win. It'd be stupid of me not to fall." His hands inched away from her leg, understanding how the words changed his touch. He noticed her discomfort and respected it.

Reaching out she grabbed his hand, staying it: more for him than her. "When?"

He shook his head, his hair flying from the leather wrap she gave him for Christmas. "When you came into the bar."

Amazed, she let go of his hand and touched his arm. "I was fourteen."

Her mother used to work at the local pub for some extra money when her father was deployed. Every other Friday was an all age karaoke night where the old and young came together and shared an evening of bad singing and even worse dancing.

He sat on stage earning extra money for a new guitar. She was there because her friends dared her to belt out some Gloria Gaynor. Piper met William as she sang I Will Survive to the strum of his guitar.

"You were fearless." He motioned to the nearest exit with his free hand, as she nodded in agreement as he flicked his turning signal to change lanes.

"It was karaoke; I doubt that makes anyone fearless." She felt a cold sweat run down her spine. She didn't want to have this conversation now. She didn't want to have this conversation ever.