I lost my train of thought on the Christmas one, sorry!
Somebody requested more Piper oogling Lou, so I tweaked it a bit- they are 19/20 ish and not-so-subtely mildly crushing on each other. But Piper still stares.
Piper hopped up the steps to Cabin Three, humming to herself. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, neatly rapping her knuckles on the door. "Lou!" She called. There was a thud inside, followed by a quiet fuck. "You OK?" Piper asked, hearing a smile in her tone. The door opened, Louisa pouting at her, with a hand on her hip. "Oh." Piper said, heat welling in her face.
"Ya early. Fuck's sake, Piper." She spun on her heel, motioning vaguely over her shoulder to welcome her visitor in. Piper remained on the doorstep for a moment, tapping her cheeks with her fingertips. They had arranged to meet for lunch the day before and Piper had thought she was quite prepared for the meal. She was not, however, prepared for this.
Louisa, it seemed, had only recently come out of the shower. Piper had interrupted her dressing; she wore everything but a T-shirt and her hair was still damp and untied. It hung just past her shoulders, a perfect blend of curls and waves her siblings would have killed for. Piper tried not to stare as Louisa paced back and forth, humming to herself in search of something, but it was a test of her will. Scarred arms that looked to contain the strength needed to rip a man's head clean off. Strong shoulders and defined back, only partially covered by her sports bra and hair, marred by the large, twisted scar left from Chrysaor's blade. Piper's stomach twisted at the sight of it and she did not fare much better when Louisa turned her way again- the scar had a twin.
Louisa clicked her tongue impatiently, squinting suspiciously around the room. "Tyson tidied." She huffed. "My last hair tie snapped 'n' I can't find any more." She looked to Piper, a tad confused when the other girl squeaked and started, staring at her wide-eyed and pink-faced. "Ya ain't got any, have ya?"
"Um… back at my cabin." Piper managed, internally wincing at the slight high-pitched lilt to her voice. Louisa didn't seem to notice, pushing her hands through her hair irritably. Piper could feel an Irish jig in her chest at the uplift of those arms and the definition it brought. Louisa turned again, just slightly, unwittingly giving Piper ample profile of her body; wider in the hip than Piper realised, smooth curve into her waist and then up some more-
Oh gods, she was staring now, full-on staring. And someone had set her head on fire too. She couldn't handle this. Watching Louisa sparring with the boys had been one thing. Seeing her relaxed and like that was too much for Piper to handle. She was so accustomed to seeing her in baggier clothing or at the very least, sleeveless. This was beyond her paygrade, galaxies beyond.
What Piper didn't know, on the other hand, was that Louisa had learnt her lesson. Via Jason. Who had so very kindly pointed out to his little cousin that Piper could not help herself around her. And Louisa, being the ever-responsible and understanding little shit that she was, took it upon herself to reeeeallly test Piper's limits with this. Piper was, more often than not, level-headed and good with her words and feelings. Louisa, born for destruction and mayhem, revelled in this.
She knew where her hair ties were. She also knew where her T-shirt was. And she also knew that Piper wasn't actually early. There was a plan. Sort of.
It was taking a considerable amount of her effort not to whip round and make Piper jump or yell 'Gotcha!', but she could feel the weight of her gaze on her constantly when her back was turned. Piper always seemed to find the cabin rather interesting or stare at Louisa with such intensity, it gave her the feeling they weren't going to lunch, but to find Louisa's grave instead.
She spun on her heel and moved to her trunk, shoving stuff about aimlessly, muttering 'no, not that one' or 'that's not it' every so often. She had a tub of hair ties in the corner, now buried under Camp T-shirts and art supplies. She withdrew a purple camp shirt- sticking with her roots- and had to bite her lip to contain laughter at Piper's not-as-discreet-as-she-thought huff.
Piper swung her arms, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Come on, Lou. I'm hungry."
"Aha, there's the little bastards!" Louisa grabbed the hair tie tub, lording it over her head and grinning. She sat cross-legged on the floor, shaking the tub as though it were a snowglobe. With a snap of her fingers, her hair dried and de-tangled. She tipped her upright arm back a little, blowing a raspberry. "Pipes, do my hair for me. Can't be bothered."
"Wait, really?"
"I might get it cut…" Louisa mused.
"No." Piper stressed, snatching the tub. She tossed the lid aside, readying a tie on her wrist. "Do not let me have this one time of doing your hair and then cut it. That's just cruel." Louisa simply shrugged. Piper had her hair done in seconds, a French braid down her back. "Now, if I had some bobby pins, I could-"
"I thought ya wanted food, not torture devices?" Louisa asked, reaching for her sneakers.
"Bobby pins aren't- you're impossible."
"Thanks." Louisa grinned over her shoulder. Piper grimaced at her. Louisa stomped her foot into her second sneaker, stretching her leg out before her. "Food?"
"Food." She nodded once, curtly. Louisa sprang to her feet, offering her arm. The earlier rosiness returned in a heartbeat to Piper's face, but she did not object to linking her arm through Louisa's. Now Louisa was a bit closer to her, she could feel a tiny portion of her cocky-little-shitness fading. Piper had actually put some effort into her looks today- not that the effort was needed, but seeing it there only made her that much more beautiful. She didn't seem to be wearing much make-up, yet artfully so, and her hair was elegantly braided with feathers, pinned back from her face in such a way that it framed her cheekbones. Louisa felt a tingle in her fingers as kaleidoscopic eyes met hers- she had to draw this girl later. Her water colours would be best for capturing the blend of hues in those eyes.
Piper frowned. "What?" A cool breeze whistled by, catching the scent of Piper's perfume- something delicately spicy. She tapped her forefinger on Piper's nose lightly, smirking.
"Only returnin' the favour, Pipes." The rosy pink burned into crimson. She led on, keeping Piper on her arm and totally not noticing the not-as-discreet-as-she-thought feel of her bicep. Or the way Piper's hip bumped into hers on every other step. Or how that spicy scent seemed to linger, even without the wind.