Fate (PIPABETH FF) ✔️

Moving On

A N N A B E T H

Three days.

Three days and counting, I thought bitterly to myself, fighting the urge to turn to her table and stare as I'd been moments earlier. Three days, and nothing more than a simple, courteous hi, how are you, and all the textbook responses to the question had been exchanged between Piper and me. And frankly, it made me want to tear all my hair out and burn it in the bonfire.

I poked at my food, ignoring the concerned looks I was undoubtedly getting from my siblings, who'd definitely been noticing my strange behavior for the past few days. The first day, Malcolm had subtly tried bringing it up. I'd opened my mouth, desperate to quell his worries, yet halting as the sudden memory of warm, soft lips and the faint taste of chocolate abruptly shut me up, leaving me with no choice but to plaster a tight smile onto my face and shake my head, lying through my teeth and saying that everything was just fine. Everything was not fine, though.

The second day was equally as bad, if not worse. I'd understood our distance the first day, but when the next day rolled around and Piper had actively swerved away from me when I tried approaching, I felt my heart drop to my toes. I ended up ignoring it, convincing myself that everything was fine, and that she just needed some space. That was understandable—I needed a little time to process what had happened as well.

The third day, though, had been my breaking point. Nearly 72 hours of radio silence was enough to drive me up the wall, and today, it had only gotten worse. It felt strange, almost foreign, to not have spoken to her for so long. Especially when she was just barely out of reach; skirting away from me when we got close during the bustling hours of free time and excusing herself with quick, half-hearted excuses when we crossed paths in the bathroom.

The bathroom.

I sighed quietly, managing to shovel some food in my mouth before standing up sluggishly at the small chime, scraping my food into the fire. Just don't let this end terribly, I think to nobody in particular, my shoulders slumped as the food burned. I turned on my heel and trudged away, only to be stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

"What? I'm not in the mood," I began grouchily, turning around. My voice caught in my throat as I spotted the person plaguing my mind, her hand on my shoulder as her eyes looked directly at me, although they looked a little unsure. "Oh. Hi."

"Can we talk?"

Her voice was a little quiet, but I could hear it nonetheless. I nodded quickly, and followed wordlessly behind her as we left, the bustle of campers eventually quieting down to a quiet buzz in the background as we stepped into a little forest clearing. Piper sighed loudly, running a hand through her choppy hair, and I stiffened, forcing myself to stay still and not betray the inner turmoil churning in my chest.

"What is it?" I begin quietly, crossing my arms defensively.

The other girl's eyes trained on me for a moment, her expression slightly tense before she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It's about the other day," she began measuredly, her voice suddenly level. "I... um... wanted to properly apologize."

My brow raised. "For what?" I blurted out unthinkingly. At her raised brow, I falter. "Oh. I... just meant that I didn't really... how should I put this..." I paused, putting on a show of contemplation, my expression one of deep thought. In reality, though, I was inwardly panicking, unsure of how to word my true thoughts without sounding like some insane maniac. "I meant that the whole ordeal isn't something I think is particularly terrible," I eventually settled on saying, gazing at her to gauge her reaction. Her face changed slightly, but I was too focused on my response that I didn't take note of it.

"Oh. Well... I still wanted to apologize," she continued quietly, sighing. "It... wasn't right on my part to do anything crazy like that so suddenly. Without, um... without asking, either." Her voice was tinged with a hint of embarrassment, and I cracked a little, encouraging smile at her to hopefully ease her worries. "It's nothing, really," I murmured reassuringly, "It... well, you're not a terrible kisser, if that's what you're worried about."

For a moment, it went silent, and I cursed inwardly— did I make it awkward again? But as soon as the first laugh left her lips, I knew we were okay again.

I relaxed, exhaling in relief as she shook her head, giggling slightly. "I'm not worried about that," she snickered, moving closer to elbow me a little, "I know I'm a great kisser. I was just... well, I didn't want things to be awkward between us. But we can just, uh, maybe put that on the backburner for now," she suggested sheepishly. "For my own sanity. And maybe yours, too. Please."

I chuckled quietly, nodding once. "Fine," I eventually agreed, nudging her on the side lightly, returning her jab. "But really," I began quietly, my voice softening. "I didn't mind. I know it might have been some stupid, spur of the moment thing, but things happen. I get it. It was late, we were a little stupid from that brain rotting game Leo made us play, and..." I trail off, unable to continue speaking, but grateful when the other girl nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's... that's right."

She didn't sound convinced, but I tried not to dwell on it too much. Like she said—for my own sake.

A moment of silence fell upon us, the only noise being the gentle breeze ruffling the leaves above us, trembling gently in the wind and hanging onto its branches for dear life. I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy in my chest; I felt the same way, grabbing onto whatever scraps of amity Piper and I had left after our strange situation in the bathrooms for dear life and not letting go, even if it meant playing down the entire situation in order to not go crazy over what the implications of the ordeal meant. What it could mean.

"So," Piper began slowly, breaking me out of my reverie, "Friends?" she said, holding a hand out. The sight of it made me laugh a little, and I shook my head, deciding to humor her as I reached out to grab her hand, shaking it twice firmly. "We never stopped being friends," I replied amusedly, unable to suppress the stupid, lopsided smile on my lips as I grabbed her hand. "Even if... we did kind of not talk for a few days."

Piper looked a little sheepish at that, averting her gaze and smiling awkwardly. "...Yeah, sorry. I over-thought it, and I kept freaking out about it. But, hey, we're here now, aren't we?" She looked up at me with hopeful eyes, and I couldn't help but nod right away in agreement, gazing back at her intently. I gave her a little smile in return, and she seemed to brighten up at this, her awkward expression morphing into one of genuine relief.

"Phew," she exhaled, "Glad that's over. We need to get back soon before people freak out and notice we're not where everyone else is," she said, stretching her arms above her head before turning to look at me. "At least... this is over, right? We're cool now?" she began measuredly, as if gauging my reaction.

I felt the urge to tease her, so I did.

"No," I said, my voice low and serious. "No, never. I would never be cool with you," I mutter. "I'd rather... uh.. die."

Upon her expression dropping and giving way to utter dread, I laughed, reaching out to nudge her reassuringly. "Hey, I'm kidding. Of course we're fine," I said with an encouraging grin, "I'm just messing with you. I'm glad we're actually talking again, is all."

At this, Piper seemed to actually relax once more, blinking fast. "Oh. Oh, Gods, Annie, never do that again," she said breathlessly, clutching her hands to her chest dramatically. "I actually thought I was done for!" She groaned, smacking me lightly on the arm as we began to trudge back despite my unbothered laughs. "Yeah, yeah."

When we returned, we separated into our cabins with a lighthearted goodbye, parting with a small, secretive smile as we got ready to tackle our own obstacles of the day. Despite this, I was just glad we'd settle things as best as we could. Because in the three days of silence, I was hit in the face with an equally exhilarating and horrifying conclusion:

The days spent without her were empty and bland, and I had sorely underestimated the color she brought into my life.

In other words, I was completely and utterly done for.