A/N: When something feels good, even though you're not sure what it might be.
It's about snatched moments at first. Because they both know that this is a bad idea. But it's been raining since Thanksgiving and they're both searching for something; although neither knows quite what.
So they take meandering walks with no real purpose, drink endless cups of coffee, hide in the shadowy corners of a library, sometimes reading, sometimes not, stealing glances when they think the other isn't looking. And it evolves and grows until neither can contain it. But it's ok, because it's nice; good even and this loose arrangement becomes not so loose; the threads between them tighten, until they can't be unpicked, unwoven, undone.
And the hours merge into days and the days into weeks, until months begin to form anniversaries and trinkets become mementos and suddenly everything is underscored with purpose.
But it's still raining.
They're lying on the couch one day, clothes and limbs entwined; no beginning or end, the air around them clammy. 'Tell me the truth about love' Alex asks. An answer to a question she never knew she needed, until the words left her lips.
Piper's eyes trace her face, her breath warm and soft against Alex's cheek and there's a gentle furrow to her brow, because the question has caught her off guard, but she answers all the same. 'It stings a little...it's warm and complex and achingly delicious' she whispers, her fingers lightly trailing Alex's collarbone.
Alex merely smiles in response. The moment doesn't require anything more, because they both know...maybe they always have.
And memories, they come thick and fast, as if they're tumbling out of the very sky under which they stand.
But it's still raining.
And one season drifts into another, and they're closing whatever space remains between them, until they cannot see beyond each other, past this...whatever it is.
'I miss you' Piper whispers down the phone one night, so late that the moon has disappeared, so early that the birds are barely rousing.
'I've been talking to you for four hours straight' Alex laughs 'how can you miss me?'
'Because...' She doesn't finish the sentence, there's no need, the longing has been conveyed in that word alone.
'You'll be back from your parents tomorrow though right?' Alex says.
'Yes'.
And then she returns and she can't remember how she managed to bring herself to leave in the first place or if she'll be able to do it again. They eat messy subs, drink warm beer and make love slowly, flitting in and out of hazy shadows, whispering promises into the still of the night.
But it's still raining. And they're soaked to the skin.