A/N: This is a disgustingly short chapter purely because it's only just occurred to me how long it's been since I last updated. I know pretty much exactly what's going to happen next and because I've finished college for Christmas it really shouldn't take too long for it to be written, I just wanted to upload something now before I get angry Asks begging me to update again. x
Seven;
"Wow."
"I know."
"You fucked up pretty bad there."
"Thanks for the support, Nichols, I appreciate it."
The sarcasm is laced with irritation, hinting at the suppressed anger residing deep within her. Alex is a fuck up. She knows that. But this is on a whole different level.
She is angry at herself for being such a dick, angry at Piper for being too good for her, and even a little angry at Nicky, just for being Nicky, really.
She's also angry at the world, and human existence, and the way all the chemicals in her body balance (or unbalance, as the case may be) to make her feel such things; of all the many different chemical combinations and reactions that take place inside her, it's just her luck for them to combine in a way that creates this particular emotion. She'd take anger and guilt and helplessness any day, but love…
Love overrides all of those until she begins to forget how she felt before she dived headfirst into the whirlwind of blonde hair, blue eyes and Wednesdays at 6pm.
In the end, Alex is vulnerable for the first time in a long time. She doesn't want to hurt Piper. She doesn't want Piper to hurt her. She doesn't want to open up to her, just to watch her leave. But this is the very condition of existence: to embrace presence, means to accept the risk of absence.
"You fuck up a lot, though."
"Seriously? Are you just gonna sit there and kick me while I'm down?"
"No," Nicky laughs and Alex wants to punch her. "I mean, you fuck up a lot, but you know that. You're okay with that. So it doesn't matter."
"Um, it kinda fucking does matter this time?"
"You fuck up so much but you always try to resolve your fuck ups somehow. You fucked up with hard drugs, so you don't do hard drugs anymore. You fucked up with relationships, so now you don't bother with them-"
"So you're saying I fucked up with Piper, and now I should stop going to therapy?"
"Let me finish! Your way of resolving things is always to run away from the things you've fucked up. You stopped doing heroin? Great. Now you fucking drink and smoke a shit load of pot. You don't do relationships anymore? Good for you. Now you're fucking lonely." Nicky states, sounding strangely wise despite the lit joint resting between her lips. "What I'm saying is, maybe this time you shouldn't run away from it. She kissed you back, right?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't change things."
"What, she kisses all her patients back when they kiss her then, yeah?"
"It doesn't change the fact I ran away straight afterwards!"
"Yeah, well, that was a dick move, even coming from you." She passes the half-smoked joint to the brunette, who gladly accepts. "By not going, you're just making it even worse. Have you even contacted her to tell her you can't make the sessions?"
"What excuse will I use? 'Sorry I can't make therapy today, since I kissed you I can't help but worry you hate me, and it's also made me like you even more than I did before.' Na, doesn't sound too great."
Alex takes a long drag from the thick joint, inhaling deep and slow until she can feel the smoke coil up in the crevices of her lungs. She holds her breath in for as long as possible, enhancing its effect. The smoke billows from between her lips in the form of perfect rings that intertwine with each other as they fade and contort. Her mind clears instantly as the thick white cloud turns to nothing before her eyes. She finds that happiness is a little like that too; one minute it's everywhere, the next it's gone.
"So you're not going?"
"I'm not going, no. It's much more fun running away from my problems than confronting them, let me tell you."
"She might be worried about you. I mean, fuck, even I'm a bit worried about you."
"She's not worried about me."
"And how do you know that?"
"Girls like her don't think about girls like me, it's not in their nature."
"What, straight girls? See I told you, they'll fuck you up every time!"
"Oh no, she's not straight, I'm sensing some serious sapphic vibes. Anyway, why are you worried?" Alex asks incredulously, taking another fleeting drag before passing it back.
"I miss the old heartless Vause who'd bring a different girl home every night and then give me every gory detail the next morning. What is it about Piper that fucks you up so bad? I've never seen you like this before, you don't do feelings."
A shrug of the shoulders. "And now you can see why."
A nod of the head. "And now I can see why."
Alex wasn't lying, she really didn't go to therapy.
For two weeks.
Two whole, empty weeks that left Piper wishing she'd never even met her.
Just under half a year ago, Piper was satisfied with her life. She was content being alone, mostly because relationships had never really been her forte, but also because she didn't know what she was missing.
But now she knows, and it's killing her.
She dreams a lot more now, thinks a lot. She thinks so much that even the quietest of rooms are filled with a million voices screaming at her in unison.
Piper's almost certain her lips haven't stopped tingling since Alex kissed them, and her brain hasn't stopping thinking about her since, well, before any kiss. She replays the sound of heavy rainfall and the image of slightly darker eyes boring into her own on a loop until it's almost like she's back there, feeling Alex's body pressed up so tightly against her it is both highly inappropriate and overwhelmingly intoxicating. This thought alone leaves her feeling equal parts terrified and dizzy, so much so she finds herself craving the brunette's presence more than ever.
The second Wednesday is painful. By that point, considering she hasn't been involved in any form of communication with Alex, she already knows she isn't going to turn up. That doesn't stop her holding onto the tiny sliver of hope that still resides in the crevices of her heart, as she faces her 5 o'clock patient with all the forced ease of a feather in the breeze. She tries her hardest to act like there isn't a war breaking out inside of her, like she can't feel endless gunfire rattling through her bones.
Her 5 o'clock on a Wednesday is a girl called Lucy whose eyes look startlingly like Alex's, though not as clouded with helplessness. Piper pays attention in a way that is unlike most adults when a younger person is talking; she pays attention in the way all teenage girls want to be paid attention to, because she knows what it is like to feel invisible when her little world is crumbling. Piper has a few teenage patients, and she will probably always be in awe of how well they cope with the various things they're battling with in life. She talks to her teens like they're adults, treats them no differently to her older patients, because she knows mental illnesses don't come with age, knows that emotional trauma doesn't wait until you're old enough to handle it. It springs upon you like a predator on its prey, and it feels interminable whether you're fifteen or fifty.
Lucy has crippling anxiety as well as depression, and for the first time in her life, Piper can actually relate to the level of uneasiness her patient feels.
"Aren't I supposed to be the worrier here?" The young redhead asks.
That's the problem with over-thinkers, they often notice pretty much everything if they analyze hard enough.
"What?"
"I've been here for little under an hour and you haven't stopped shaking, you're like a little leaf on the sidewalk." She laughs. "What's up?"
"I'm not going to burden you with my problems." The blonde sighs, stretching her arms to the point of pain in the hope it'll shake off the nervousness ricocheting within her.
"Oh, please do, I'm bored of talking about my own."
"It's just work stuff, no big deal."
"Is it a patient? Are you nervous about seeing them or something?"
Piper doesn't respond, instead toying with her pen and scribbling indecipherable notes in her work diary, pretending she hadn't heard the question.
"C'mon, Piper, details! God, I never want to tell you anything but I still have to, now it's your turn."
"I can't tell you anything, confidentiality and all that."
"I don't want to know what they're here for, or even their name, but something about them is bothering you and I don't think that's normal. I know you see Crazy Eyes before me, is it her? Has she threatened to kill you or something?"
The blonde sighs, knowing now there's no way to turn back. "Yes, it's a patient. But no, it's not Suzanne, and nobody's threatened to kill me."
"Then what is it?"
"I really shouldn't be talking about this with you-"
"Wait, look at me." Lucy orders, a hint of intrigue lacing her tone. Piper looks up, confused. "Oh my God."
"What now?" She laughs incredulously, and is surprised by how natural it sounds.
"I know that look," the young girl shakes her head, feigning pity. When her therapist doesn't respond, she continues. "What's he like?"
Ah, teenagers and the conclusions they jump to.
"It's not a guy."
It goes quiet for a few seconds after that, though it feels like minutes and it takes everything in Piper not to laugh at the look on her patient's face at this revelation. She knows she probably shouldn't talk to a patient about her love life, but fuck Polly is driving her insane with all of this Alex bullshit at the moment, it's like the woman feeds off the knowledge that everyone else's lives aren't as complete as hers. And besides, a patient is what got her into this mess, maybe a patient is what she needs to help her out a little. Lucy is incredibly mature for her age, and majority of the time, Piper forgets this person in front of her has only been on the Earth for a grand total of seventeen years.
"Woah," she gasps. "Okay… Wasn't expecting that. So you're a… You know…"
"Sorta, yeah. Problem?"
"Nah, it's your life, not mine. Continue."
"But it's messed up, everything's just going really wrong. Something happened and I haven't seen her since, and I don't know what to do."
"Oh, you know what to do." Lucy adopts a daring expression, and Piper's unease returns in a wave of dread that makes her audibly sigh. "If she won't come to you, go to her."
Now, Piper knows taking advice from a mentally ill teenager probably isn't the best idea, but the idea appeals to her somehow.
If she goes to Alex's apartment, she can't run away.
She has her address on her file.
She can see her again.
Two weeks is an awfully long time when you're in love, that much has become clear to the blonde recently.
There are few things in life so beautiful they hurt: raindrop ripples in lakes, the sound of crisp leaves in winter, the sea of stars that appear when you're miles away from the neon lights of the city, summer sunrise breaking through the clouds, all the phases of the moon, and the extent to which Piper Chapman is in love with Alex Vause.
She doesn't give up on many things in life, and this is no exception.
By no means will she ever give up on someone she can't possibly envision herself living without.
Another A/N: this was written very quickly, I can only apologise. ALSO, thanks for over 100 reviews, I'm buzzin!
