"How?" His face was contorted in an expression of the utmost confusion and indecision, no matter how many times he blinked though, nothing about what he was looking at changed. It was still the same black velvet box and it was still holding the same object. One silver engagement ring, a ring that he'd seen before on Keely's finger in the Giggle. He remembered the content look on her face at the realization that her future was even brighter than she'd hoped, he'd asked her if she wanted to see who her future husband would be. She'd told him that she'd wait for the surprise. Well...surprise? He removed the ring from the box, cradling it delicately in his hand, as though he might break it with anything more than a feathers touch. Fingertip traced the etching in the jewelry, throat tightening to an uncomfortable point. Then, silently, he put the ring back in its box and stored the case inside of his dresser.
No matter how surprised he was by the whole situation he was still curious about it too. "Mom?" He called out as he stepped into the hallway. "Yep," He traced the sound of her voice into the kitchen where she was currently attempting to cook what appeared to be a cake. Phil chose not to ask any questions about the dessert, there were more important things on his mind. "Is that your ring in the box?" He watched her gaze shift down to her hand where her wedding ring was still sitting proudly on her finger, "It's not Keely's?" She pondered, frowning in consideration. "No. Well I mean, I don't know. It's not yours?" She shook her head, continuing to mix the cake batter. "No, I thought maybe she forgot it here one day. Must've belonged to the people who used to live here." He nodded, looking to the window at the rain that was still pounding against the glass. "Yea. I guess."
Suddenly it was very clear what he had to do. If he had that ring it could only mean one thing. It was him. That meant that he had to make this thing right, he had to explain himself to her even if it meant tying her up so that he could do it. If it was going to be him they obviously had to fix this. He only caught the tail end of his mother's reply as he went out the door, "Be careful!" He didn't answer her, in large part because the door was closed. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to walk the distance to Keely's house, it'd just seemed like a good idea at the time to sprint from his yard to hers. He regretted it when by the time he was at her door he was dripping water.
"Keely! Keely answer the door!" Fist pounded insistently against the wooden frame, rain beat against the back of his suddenly noticeably thin sweatshirt. "Come on!" Finally, after what seemed like centuries the door opened and she stared at him, bewildered. "Are you crazy? It's pouring! You're soaked, Phil, you're going to get-" He disrupted her spiel by grabbing her forcefully and pulling her out of the door and into his grasp. Lips collided roughly with hers, his hands rising to rest on her cheeks. In the back of his mind he registered the sound of the door swinging closed behind her, he made out the persistent sound of water on pavement and he noticed how she held onto his sides, fingers pulling down on his sopping wet sweater. More prominent was the pounding of his heart in his ears, the spark that passed from her mouth to his, lighting all of his nerves on fire.
It took him awhile to convince himself to pull away from her, and it took him even longer to remember how to speak. He was still busy stumbling over his own thoughts and tripping on the way his entirety was jumbled by that one kiss. "I love you." He was still holding her face gingerly in his hands, thumb caressing her cheek. "I'm in love with you." She sniffed noticeably, eyes never faltering from his, he couldn't tell if she was crying or if it was just the rain dampening her face. Then she was kissing him again, pushing herself up on her toes to press another heated touch to his lips. He was glad that eventually he'd grown enough to be taller than her, a good deal taller than her actually. She jerked him with her back against the now closed door, a spot that shielded them at least slightly from the weather. "I love you more, Salt." Her voice was little more than a whisper, having pulled back just enough to speak, their proximity still so close that their noses were brushing together. "Well, that's not exactly possible, Pepper." Phil insisted. She laughed quietly, turning around to open the door and guide him inside behind her. "Come on. I don't need you getting sick on me."