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UNSPOKEN
A Dreamworks Trolls Fanfic by C. Prince
I'mafanofFANFICTIONS: Since Branch and Poppy have not seen a troll heart up close I haven't had the chance to describe one. A troll heart, once grown, is a jewel that looks basically like Poppy's troll gem but larger and the inside is sparkly. Colors vary.
Honey Worded Trap
Night time slid into light filtering through open windows on familiar walls. Fresh laundry scent brought awareness that she was tucked in bed. She didn't remember falling asleep. Branch must've brought her here.
She wondered what happened to the troll so afraid of rejection he didn't ask for a hug day hug, even though he wanted one. That troll would have never voiced his feelings, let alone carry the queen to her pod in full view of everyone. What happened to the drab troll who ignored all his friends' invitations? The fully desaturated one who barely spoke at all? He would be shocked, disgusted, even, if he could see himself now.
Poppy's drowsiness split into a wide grin.
Thinking about Branch distracted her from the fact she didn't feel 100% this morning. Check that, her hug watch said it was past noon. She'd pushed herself too hard in the mad rush to get home and the excitement yesterday blocked out how exhausted she was.
A paper was propped up on the nightstand.
Make a visit to Dr. Moonbloom today to check any injuries and get advice on returning to a normal diet. You need to rest, even if you don't feel like it. Pretty sure the doc will back me up on this one.
Stay away from sweets for a few days. I'll be at the bunker. I'll come check on you after dinner.
XOXO
Hugs and kisses this time, an upgrade from the Bergentown trip letter she found in her mail yesterday. The thing in her chest twirled wildly at the thought of exploring his face with her hands, looking into those bright blue eyes before she closed hers and—
She'd better get out of bed.
A pudding smudge, stray confetti, and some bits of bark decorated her dress. She brushed off what she could and used a wet cloth to wash off the rest. It wasn't as if she'd never touched Branch's face before. She had. Not as anything more than a friend. Except those hugs where their cheeks met. As trolls that happened from time to time, and it wasn't Branch's fault he had such supple lovable cheeks that felt good on hers. Wow, she was still thinking about this.
Her hand hovered above the felt flower tiara she'd left behind. Before she could latch on to the familiar feeling she passed over it, continuing down, until her palm hit the dresser's smooth handle. The drawer slid open. Dust flecks darkened the deep green crown and its trio of blue flowers with tiny suns sewn between. Four more flowers decorated the back band.
The cheery crown was designed for her, but at the time it felt so much heavier than the tiara. She plucked it out of the drawer and tapped it against the dresser to shake off dust, its felt fibers flexing on impact. Any weight difference between the two adornments wasn't noticeable. If anything the crown was sturdier, bolder, more confident.
Maybe tomorrow. She left the pod with her hair free.
Poppy visited the doctor, whose prescription matched Branch's (ugh), so she limited herself to visiting her dad, working on her adventure scrapbook, and inviting friends to a sleepover so she could rest without being alone. She didn't care if Smidge spent every night for the next week at her pod waking her up early if it meant an end to last month's soul-searching solitude.
To make that offer she'd have to find her helper troll first.
Everyone told Poppy to check the critternarian clinic. By the time she arrived she was starting to feel wiped out. Seeing the royal flyer bug picketed in Milton's pasture with a huge bandage on was a rude awakening.
"Oh no girl, what happened to you?" Poppy rubbed her bug's forehead. Branch mentioned sand dunes trouble in his letter. How bad had it been?
Milton's voice approached from behind. "No need to worry. She'll be fine. The bandage is only a precaution."
Smidge was holding Milton's hand, a look of utter bliss emanating from starstruck eyes. Milton had that same dreaminess about him. Poppy raised an eyebrow and popped a knowing smile. She knew that look, had seen it countless times around the village. Something was definitely going down between these two.
They could be shinier, she thought. Sparkles in the hair: that's how you knew.
Milton said, "Your bug will have quite the scar since the adults of this species don't molt. She'll be ready to fly again in about three days."
Her bug chirruped and flicked its wings, letting Poppy know all was well.
After a chat with Smidge all the sleepover invitations were settled. Poppy went home, pushed her bed to the side of the room, curled up on it, and took a nap.
When she woke she wasn't alone.
The sight of leafed clothing launched her insides into a full fledged parade. Branch had his back turned; he'd commandeered the scrapbooking table for something. Every so often he'd take the pencil tucked behind his ear and score a line or two against a straight edge. Shhhk, shhhk, confident strokes on paper.
Watching him work soothed the pounding drums within. He was quiet but present, focused on his task while sharing the same space with her. When they knew each other's stories by heart and said all there was to say, is this what evenings would be like? Or would he rather be in his bunker away from company?
That put a diminuendo on the music. She wasn't sure if she could commit to living apart... if he was even the committing type.
Poppy ruffled the bed covers so she didn't startle him. Branch realized she was awake and rolled up his drawing, stashing it and the tools in his hair. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
"A bit woozy. Unscheduled naps and I aren't the best of friends." She went to the kitchen to make one of those soup mixes. "The gang is coming over for a sleepover tonight. You in?"
"Should I get my stuff now, or?..."
"Borrow mine. Wait." She stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Are you actually agreeing to this?"
Branch crossed his arms. "I've done real sleepovers before. A queen who should be resting, a bunch of noisy friends, and the local grumpy hermit. What could possibly go wrong?"
"They could all get kidnapped by bergens," she offered.
He huffed, amused. "Don't remind me. I better make some tea if I'm going to survive this."
They were in the kitchen together, the silence stretched thin by everything left unsaid. Branch removed each piece of a tea set from his hair, along with a container of crispy leaves. Peppermint aroma tickled her senses.
She stared into her soup and stole furtive glances at her companion. It was during one of these their eyes locked. He must've been looking at her too. What to do?
Ping.
"Hug time?" Branch asked, prompting her to shoot up from her seat. He opened his arms and she walked right in, feeling him relax against her. He let out a breath he'd been holding. "Okay. Now I'm ready," he said.
The bass drum skipped a beat. "Ready for what?"
"Ready to see your adventure scrapbook."
Branch wanted to see a scrapbook. She put a hand on his forehead to check his temperature and swirled her hair around his, applying upward pressure. Nope. Not a mask.
He swatted her hair away. "Poppy come on. How often do trolls go around disguised as other trolls?"
"Do you really want me to answer that question?"
He shuddered. "Pretend it was rhetorical."
Poppy couldn't control her smile. "I never thought you'd ask to see a scrapbook. Just, give me a minute." She took a deep breath in and let out a satisfied aaaah like a summer breeze. "I am so excited right now."
She dragged Branch into the common room as he scrambled for a cup of peppermint tea, teacup in one hand and hers in the other. With trailing pink fronds she gathered pillows from shelves and closets to create a crescent-shaped sitting area. Then she plopped down against the pillow wall, taking Branch with her. He folded his legs and sent a band of hair out to the kitchen for a plate to put the teacup on.
Poppy spread her newest scrapbook across their laps and began to retell the story of her adventure. On one page a felt troll danced on sequin waters. Branch ran his fingers over the starry reflective pool. "The lake. That's where I lost you. How much further did you go?"
Poppy turned to the jungle. The whole spread was green except for a pink sprout hidden under a leaf in the far corner. She paused. "What do you see?"
"Well, that's you, and…"
Poppy took his hand and traced the outline of a feline shape camouflaged into the leaves so well a troll wouldn't know it was there until too late. It took up nearly the whole two page spread.
Branch tore his hand away like he'd been bitten. Rather than awe, his face was pinched with worry. Due to the excitement of sharing the book with him, she had not noticed his patient smile dissolving into something else. His words from a moment ago echoed back to her. That's where I lost you.
"You know what?" Poppy said, snapping the book shut. "I know this isn't really your thing. Let's do a puzzle instead. I have an edgeless one around here somewhere."
Branch perked up. "You do?" Then he shook his head. "Ugh. No. Your distraction tactics aren't going to work this time. Show me the rest of the scrapbook."
"I dunno Branch…"
"I want to see what happened." Peppermint spice and everything ice, stubborn blue eyes. Eyes that would forever be free of the suffering she'd seen last night, if she could help it.
"No. I can see this is bothering you, and I won't hurt you again. Not now. Not ever."
Branch spoke into his tea. "Tough. This type of love doesn't come without pain, especially not at first."
"That's not—" she leapt in to tell him he had love all wrong, but then took a second to think. She was confused about where this purported wisdom was coming from. A previous relationship? "How do you know that?"
"Something my mom wrote. Now, let's see that book."
She tilted her head and moved the adventure away from his reach, curious. "What else did she write?"
The sly turquoise grin was a tease. "You don't wanna know. Totally inappropriate."
Oh-ho.
Fine. She gave in to his desires and reopened the scrapbook between them. If there was going to be unhappiness, let it be here, where she could hug it away.
Chalk dust choked the pages, blotting out the insignificant paper troll. Powder bled from mushrooms and coated Poppy's fingertips. In the next scene the character rested in a sleeping bag, its face green and sickly, a thermometer in its mouth and waves of red and blue all around. Poppy pulled a tab and the flat lines of the little troll's eyes fanned into X's. A tongue popped from its mouth.
She turned the page. On the left, a portrait fell from the troll's hair. On the right, dull hands grasped a closeup of that portrait. A happy aqua troll smiled up at the viewer. The following scene showed friends and family floating in the sky above the lost troll in the sleeping bag.
In the exotic gold and white land, a determined pink cutout weaved strands of hair into the clouds and back down to a bowl of water. That same look of determination followed the troll through the next page, and the next, and the next as their outfit grew wilder and more muddied with every turn. The troll went straight through Bummer Territory all the way home.
"It's a work in progress. Lots of details and the ending to do still." Maybe the group hug would be what brought the pink and teal trolls together. Maybe it was a love story.
She chanced a look at Branch's face. It was totally unreadable, a true neutral she couldn't decipher. His faraway gaze turned downward at nothing in particular.
"Hey…" she said, closing the scrapbook and shelving it in her hair. She placed a hand on his leg where the book had been. Branch didn't say anything, but he covered her hand with his.
Finally, his voice came, devoid of any humor or playfulness. Flat. Honest. "I was that close to losing you, huh."
An ache welled up in her soul. Poppy didn't dwell on losing loved ones. When it happened, it happened, and until then she chose not to consider it. Branch did, though. Seeing the shadows on him now was awful. Her chest tightened while she watched him attempt to come to terms with a life where she wasn't there.
What must he be feeling now?
What if she'd sent him to Trollberg and he never came home? If he wasn't there at all? No friendship, no future, nothing. She would've come home to a world without him; when she'd scanned the crowd for his face it would've been in vain. No one would rush into her arms.
"Where's Branch?" she'd ask.
No one looked at her. Even Smidge was downcast, refusing to meet her gaze. Continued silence made Poppy aware of all the muted colors. Dull trolls in the statued crowd parted, making way for someone. It was her dad.
He was old, and tired. Years of struggle weighted gray hair and ran deep over age lines. She realized now the troll standing before her was not her father, but the King. His usually warm brown eyes were full of autumn despair. He didn't think he'd have to do this again. And Poppy knew. She knew what he was going to say.
"He's not coming home."
The Queen who survived the wild understood the finality of those words. There would be no rescue mission, not this time. There was no one alive to save.
Branch was gone. She asked him to protect and he'd done it.
Poppy started to sink.
Everything they'd been through, and now, this… emptiness. The last thing they'd done together – the fuzzy tickle of kissing his hands – watching proud patches and leaves fade into the forest – that was it. She'd never see him again. Ever.
This must be Branch's feeling. This horrible, shredded black hole that sucked everything in, turning happiness inside out and tearing it apart. Poppy's fingers were digging into his leg. He was a smudged azure blur beneath shimmering water. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes.
"Branch," she said. It came out as a strangled whimper. That got his attention real quick. "I'm starting to understand what your mom meant about love and pain."
Branch abandoned his own internal struggle and slid his arms around her waist in a comforting circle. "Hey, it's okay," he said in the gentle tone reserved for when she lost sight of what to do. She needed that, needed him. She shifted so she could puzzle into his embrace, pressing her cheek against velvety vest leaves. Branch's protective circle became firm and committed.
He said, "We'll get through this. I got a little scared I might say or do something too soon, that's all."
"...Like what?"
A whuff of air from Branch's silent laugh blew over her hair. No, he wasn't going to tell her. He was becoming wise to her tricks.
Branch continued to cuddle and Poppy welcomed it. The caring touch helped ease the distress of losing him. Maybe being together helped him feel better too, because he didn't let go.
She said, "I never meant to hurt you, or worry everyone. I just… wanted to be a better queen. Strong and independent like dad used to be." She sighed. "I won't run off like that again."
"Okay," Branch said doubtfully, though he held her just a bit tighter. This topic would be a sore spot for a long time.
"I saw my flyer bug today. What happened?"
"Lifesaver got ambushed and couldn't get away. If not for that attack we'd still be out there. And if it weren't for her, I don't know what shape I'd be in right now considering how Bergentown went."
Branch hesitated. Poppy felt him loosen up and look toward the darkening sky in the doorway. He said, "Not that I mind telling the story like this, but your pod isn't the most private of places. Anyone could walk in and our friends are coming over."
"I only get visitors at this hour if it's an emergency. We've got time."
"An emergency," Branch said dryly. "Like whether to serve cupcakes or muffins, or which hairstyle to use tomorrow morning?"
"No, Branch," Poppy laughed. "Actual emergencies. Although for Guy, yes, the style thing."
"If Guy sees this, everyone sees it."
"They'll survive."
"Alright. It's our funeral, I guess." Branch let go and stacked some pillows behind himself to get more comfortable. Then he took her back up in his arms.
He spoke of the battle in the sands and the damage it did to his hair, how helpful Smidge and Cooper had been on the journey. He boasted about the building techniques he taught the team and delved into a technical explanation of methods he'd learned in return. Most of it was way over her head, but Branch was too engrossed to notice.
The hand on her back meandered in little circles and strokes. He probably had no idea he was doing it. Poppy's mind spaced out in different directions, part wishing his touch would end up at the sweet spot along the back of her neck, the other part wanting to caress the softly fuzzed aquamarine skin in front of her.
"Two bergens got into an argument while we were there," he was saying. "Don't you think we should be more careful?"
"What do you mean? Trolls argue too."
"Not like this. It was…" His fairy massage stopped. "It reminded me of fights I saw before we moved here. They would attack each other like growlbeasts." The troll she was curled against grew still. "The cage wasn't there to keep us in. It was to keep everyone else out."
For all the fuss Branch used to make about their "sworn enemies," not once had he mentioned details of life before moving here. In this way he was like every other troll, casting off what awful memories he could and choosing to live in the now. He was terrible at it, but he did try, even though for years it meant living in shades of gray.
For him to talk about the past showed a shocking degree of trust. She gave him a squeeze and tried to ease his fears. "Was there a fight like that this time?"
"Well, no. It just has me thinking."
"The bergens are good people. Try not to worry about it, okay? Try."
A drumroll of fingers tapped her back and he sighed. "Okay. But I'm still keeping an eye and an ear out."
She didn't expect any less.
They lapsed into silence in the nest of pillows. Together time was about to get more crowded. Sensing this, Branch shifted a little. "I don't know how you do it," he said.
"What?"
"This. Everything. Take care of everyone and lead the village. I didn't realize how hard it was until you were gone. Everyone depends on you."
"And I don't know how you lived self-sufficient for so long. I'm used to having help. I waited too long for it out there, almost gave up. But you know," she said, "I enjoy camping if it's not by myself."
"And I can handle a group hug every now and then."
"I thought for sure you'd run yesterday."
"Me too," Branch said. "Turns out I'm happy to stand there forever, if it's with you."
Muscles beneath her coiled as Branch leaned in and sprang his honey-worded trap. Her cheek glowed under the lips tenderly pressed there. Excited fuzzbugs flipped and tumbled in her stomach. She was completely enveloped in his embrace, his arms squeezing her close enough to get the smooch in at this angle. If only she could think clearly through the fuzzbugs, she could turn her head the rest of the way. Cupcakes, she'd done this before. Why was she so nervous?
Branch slipped away and stood up. "I'm getting another tea. Do you want anything?" he asked, as if nothing had happened. His self-satisfied smile told the truth though.
Want anything? For starters, another kiss.
"Uhhh," was what fell gracelessly from her mouth. Branch's eyes joined his smile in being smug. Any other time she'd strive to knock his ego down a notch, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were too sprinkling cute.
Branch escaped to the kitchen, knowing full well what he'd done.
Actually, no, she couldn't let him get away with this. She'd be up all night wondering if his kisses were any good. He obviously wanted to kiss her, so the most unexpected thing to do would be to give him exactly what he wanted, no games, no elaborate schemes.
Branch was getting that kiss right now.
She got to her feet.
Ping.
Hug time. Poppy rubbed her hands together evilly.
"Hug time!" Suki shouted from the doorway. Poppy's reflexes put her into her friend's arms before her brain caught up. Cooper and Guy exchanged hugs beside them.
Over Suki's shoulder Poppy saw Branch leaning against the kitchen doorway, hug flower blooming. He toasted her and sipped with a smile that poured over the edges of the teacup and drizzled all over the floor. No doubt he was reliving that moment she'd abandoned him in the bunker with the whole village, except this time he was the one with his hand on the lever, rising up out of reach.
Oh, it was going down. Poppy laser cut her worst game face across the room.
"Aw, you guys started on the pillow fort without us," Suki said. "Definitely needs more pillows though. Good thing I brought so many." She started dumping pillows out of her hair.
Cooper rummaged around under his hat. "I brought snacks. At least, I think I did."
Branch invited Cooper into the kitchen to set up treats. Ah, so he wasn't going to let himself be caught alone. That would've been too easy. He was going to do everything in his power to not get kissed, which made her want it even more just to prove him wrong. Shoot. He was playing right into her instincts. New plan: focus on something other than smooching. Easier said than done with her cheek still tingling and fuzzbugs bumbling around, demanding action.
While they waited for the others to arrive, Poppy took out the fluffy bowl she had for party games and cut up strips of paper. She gathered some larger items out of storage and placed them randomly around the floor. The name of each one went on a slip and into the bowl.
"Oooo, is this what I think it is?" Guy asked.
"Yep. We're going to play Harold."
Harold was a troll so famous for giving up in the middle of party games that the game once known as Hair-Hold was named after him. When you gave up, you had to say his name. The object of the game was to outlast everyone else.
When her friends were together that brought the total players to nine. "Ok gang, you know the rules. Three papers each, name anything you see in this room, drop them in the bowl and pick your spot."
Poppy stalled a bit and made sure she was on the opposite end of the room from Branch. She needed to be able to see the space around him. When everyone was seated she drew a paper from the bowl with her hair. "First one's easy enough. Scrapbook."
All at once multicolored streams went around the room, touching a scrapbook and coming to a stop. Poppy played it safe and picked a book to her immediate left.
After the first draw it was the twins' turn. They played with the bridge of their hair and only had to draw once. If a troll wasn't careful it was easy to get stuck in the connected loop and lose.
The pod quickly became a maze. You couldn't take back what you sent out.
Guy fell on his face. "Harooooold," he sung. "I'm totally boxed in." The silvery path unwound from the game. Others followed over a few more turns, reducing the number of colors to work with.
"Rainbow," Branch read off his paper. He wasn't struggling at all. Cerulean locks casually dropped the paper and looped around Suki's hair to touch a rainbow sticker on the water-damaged friendship collage.
Poppy tinted the tip of her hair orange while she weaved it around a band of Branch's hair from a previous turn. Then she dipped back to pink to touch the rainbow on her photo wall, same place Suki picked.
Smidge's mint was getting in the way. If Poppy did nothing she'd be out of the game. Sorry Smidge. On the way to touching a pillow, Poppy closed a loop and tightened.
Smidge tried to draw a paper on her turn. "Oh my gah." Her hair tail struggled halfway to the bowl. "Oh my gah! One of you tied me up and I can't even see who did it! Branch."
"Don't look at me." He shrugged on the other side of the room behind a criss-crossed web of color.
Biggie's hands were at his scalp. "Smidge, say Harold before you throw everyone like last time! And by the way, Harold! I can't get out until you do."
Biggie's hair was entangled several times over. Poppy made some quick color changes while the two friends dropped out of the game. That left her, Suki, and Branch.
"Just so you know," Branch said, "the two of you don't stand a chance against me. See how organized this is?" He folded his arms behind his head and lounged against the blue bands of hair behind him. Poppy felt the pull when he did it.
Suki said, "I kinda just put my hair wherever. Not much left, though." There wasn't. The chill troll was happy to give up two turns later.
"Red ball."
"The ceiling."
"Biggie's nose," Poppy read. Biggie squawked "What!" just before tendrils of pink and blue booped his nose.
"Trophy."
She felt the strain kicking in from holding so much in place.
"Face it Poppy," Branch said. "I've got you beat."
It would be tough to keep playing. "Oh darn," she said, swinging her fist in mock defeat. "You got me. Harold!"
Branch leapt up. "Ha! Yes!" He did a victory dance in place, reeling the zigzagged azure hair back in. He may as well be pulling two ends of a knot to tighten it. Blue bands closed in on him. He danced without a care, figuring it'd come undone as he brought his hair back.
Bewilderment spread over his face when his hair wrapped him up in a cocoon. Gotcha. With a firm tug on her end, the line secured to the ceiling hoisted Branch up so he was floating on his stomach, legs dangling free. The surprise on his face was priceless.
Guy burst out laughing. "Poppy set a trap. She got you goOOooOod!"
Everyone was laughing now. The sooner they'd Harolded out, the sooner they'd noticed what was going on.
"But, I don't get it," Branch said. "I thought I…"
Poppy let the color change go. The room came alive with magenta hair twisted and intermingled with blue. Everything holding Branch was pink. His eyes grew wide with realization.
She explained. "You see, Harold wasn't so concerned with winning. Yes he lost, but he did it in a fun way."
Poppy looped the free end of her hair to tickle the tip of Branch's nose. She ran the soft plume down to his lips and tapped before withdrawing.
"Troll piñata!" Cooper shouted.
"No, Cooper," Branch warned with rising panic, back-pedaling his legs and going nowhere. "Nononono!"
Cooper bunched his head against Branch's side, coiled like a spring, and sent his buddy swinging. Of course Cooper didn't think to get out of the pendulum's path. He was promptly smacked in the face and sent sprawling onto his back in a fit of chuckles. "I did not think this through!"
"Ya think!" Branch shouted as he sailed over Guy's head. A river of orange caught him.
"Hey Smidge, over here," Suki said, carefully passing the Branch cocoon in an arc around the room.
Now all hope was lost, and the game of Branch-pass began. He suffered it with annoyed patience, up until the point he realized he could propel off the pod walls with his feet to avoid whoever was "it." Then he became spirited. Poppy was still trying to untangle herself without laughing.
Guy's hair snatched Branch up in midair and brought the flustered troll back to Poppy. "I believe this is yours."
"Why thank you Guy, I will accept this prize for best in show." She held onto Branch so he wouldn't swing off again and restart the insanity. Guy helped her lower him to the ground. The diamond glitter troll was quick to jump into a background argument over which game to play next, leaving her alone with her prize.
Branch had come a long way to take that kind of teasing in stride. He really was one of a kind. She enjoyed spending time with him, being near him...
She loosened the strands around his waist with her hands even though she could've done it hair-only. This is how it would be, close like this. Where would she put her hands? Along his hips, or on his shoulders, maybe slide up and around to pull him in if it got passionate. Heat tinged her cheeks.
Branch's words were exasperated but loving. "Are you ever going to let me win in peace?"
Poppy didn't reply. She recalled her hair, zipping it around Branch so he was free. Only then did she look up and let him see exactly what she was thinking about. She held his gaze with a sultry heat that said, kiss me.
Branch's hands stopped halfway to her arms, then halfway to her waist. He bit his lip and flicked his gaze to where their friends were. Indecision stuttered on his face. There was no way he was going to kiss her in front of everyone: she knew this. That's why she continued to beckon him through lowered eyelashes.
Branch made a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. He took a step back. He looked toward the kitchen where some of the others were getting into the snacks. Then he considered the open doorway to her pod. The sound of a late night jam session meant no privacy out there, either. He glanced at her and the door again. He was actually considering it.
"We're playing spoons. Do you two want us to deal you in or not?" Smidge asked from the floor circle.
"Oooo! Yes!" Poppy leapt into a spot with enough room for two trolls. Branch took the opportunity to be next to her.
That was how the night went. Sometimes together, sometimes not, spending time with friends while casting secret looks at one another. Poppy was having a hard time keeping up, though. The hair exercise took more energy out of her than she anticipated.
Chenille noticed. She came to the rescue. "Ugh. That's enough noise and craziness. Let's do something relaxing."
Pajamas on, teeth brushed, sleeping leaves unfurled haphazardly in and around the pillow fort. Stepping around pillows and bodies in the middle of the night was half the fun.
Branch bravely chose the one place with plenty of space: the isolated moat around Smidge. He built a pillow wall on the Smidge side. "Not getting karate-chopped in the nose this time," he announced.
"I remember that," Cooper said. "You were yowling like a baby, woke the whole neighborhood up."
"Because having my face smashed in at 2:00 in the morning is such a great feeling," Branch said with uber positivity.
"...It is?" Suki asked.
"No!"
Cooper said, "You're the only one insane enough to get near her when she sleeps, dude."
"Please. I'm definitely not the only one. Plus, she protects me from all of you." Branch flipped over to face the wall, ignoring the chorus of aww's.
The lights-out conversation turned to Poppy's adventure, so she told the story and the room grew hushed as one by one her friends drifted to sleep. After that they talked about anything and nothing. Poppy had her eyes closed, thinking about Branch with his back turned across the room.
Yes, they were headed into the crazy phase where no amount of time together would be enough, but after that, would he get bored or annoyed and want to move on? Lots of trolls enjoyed that temporary arrangement. It wasn't her jam. But it could be his.
She better ask before it was too late, because thinking of him now, she knew exactly what this fluttering feeling was. It wasn't beating, but it was there, growing stronger with each special moment they shared.