Camp Pining Hearts

Chapter 10

Lapis was (unsurprisingly) faster and more nimble than Peridot could ever dream of being. As it was, the cabin door slammed closed before Peridot even arrived at the bottom of the porch steps. She—as hastily as she could while simultaneously taking care not to slip—climbed onto the porch and immediately began rapping her knuckles on the door.

"Lapis!" she called. "Let me in, right now!"

Peridot's fist paused in its pounding as she strained her ears to listen for—well, anything. Lapis neither said anything in response nor opened the door. Peridot waited an extra second before she started again, knocking with far more vehemence.

Her mind was going haywire, and Peridot concentrated harder on beating down the door to distract herself from having to concentrate on anything else. Like Lapis, and Lapis's mouth, and the way Lapis's hands felt in her hair, and, and, and—

"Lapis!" Peridot hollered again, slamming both of her hands against the barrier before stepping away to swallow a lungful of air. Meanwhile, the rain continued beating down on her relentlessly. She waited—for Lapis to open the door, for Lapis to say something, for anything—in vain, pushing her sopping wet hair away from her face and staring hopelessly at the handle.

It was at that moment that Peridot realized, in her panic, that she'd forgotten that none of the cabin doors had locks. Abandoning all niceties, Peridot jumped forward and nearly ripped the handle off the door as she burst through.

The sound of the rain on the roof was deafening, but Peridot tuned it out. All she could focus on was Lapis, who was standing in the middle of the room, faced away from the door with hands propped on her hips.

Kicking the door shut behind her, Peridot stomped forward to stare helplessly at Lapis's back. "What was that?"

She watched as Lapis shrugged her shoulders. Lapis didn't do—or say—anything more.

Peridot moved to grab Lapis by her elbow, spinning her around to face her. Lapis went with the motion obediently, but refused to meet Peridot's eye. She stared determinately at something beyond Peridot's shoulder as Peridot hissed, "That stunt deserves an explanation, don't you think?"

There was a beat of silence before Lapis whispered, "I'm sorry."

Frustration spilled out of Peridot in a sharp, "Don't be sorry! Just tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, tough! Because that's not up to you!"

"I don't want to talk about it," Lapis pressed, finally meeting Peridot's stare. Her eyes were narrowed, scared and angry at the same time. They were quite nearly dangerous.

Nearly being the operative word, as Peridot watched something behind Lapis's eyes shift. They softened, but in a different way than what Peridot recognized as Lapis's usual soft expression. They softened in a way that bore straight through Peridot—through her mind, past her heart, and straight to the bottom of her gut. Peridot realized that she'd previously had no idea what real danger looked like until Lapis began looking at her like that.

"I don't want to talk at all," Lapis continued, her voice so low that Peridot felt the desire to lean forward—whether to hear better or just to be closer, she had no idea.

Despite how thoroughly soaked Peridot's exterior was, her mouth was dry. Peridot swallowed and, unable to control herself, licked her lips in order to relieve at least some of the discomfort she was feeling. She realized this had been the wrong move a moment too late as she watched Lapis's eyes dart down to look at her mouth.