Chapter Text
Abigail walked quietly after Emma, following blindly as she often did. One of the campers had gotten sick in the night, and she had been dragged along with Emma to get cleaning supplies from the lodge's broom closet. Kaitlyn, as the camp's involuntary nurse, had remained behind to tend to the kid — though the disgust on her face was thinly veiled as she quickly sent the pair away to find supplies.
So, here she was, following Emma. The pair entered the lodge, making their way towards the broom closet with just the sound of Emma's humming to fill the stagnant, silent air, and the faint sound of Dylan's acoustic guitar playing creeping through the walls. Emma stopped in front of the broom closet, opened the door, and gestured for Abigail to hold it. "The thing locks itself, so we have to be careful," she said, shooting Abigail a smile. Abigail felt her chest squeeze. She knew most of Emma's smiles were fabricated, nothing more than a show, but every time she smiled at her, the smiles seemed genuine.
Emma gave her a questioning look, head tilted as she leaned against the door frame with one hand. "Oh! Right! Yeah, I can do that," she stuttered, placing her hand on the door. It resulted in the smile returning to Emma's face, who then turned around and looked around the cramped closet. Both hands were on her hips as she made a show of looking around. Her brows furrowed as she shifted through expired cleaning supplies on a shelf and narrowly avoided knocking over brooms that would give her splinters.
Abigail traced Emma with her eyes, a small smile etching across her features at the faint furrowing of brows, the way her nose wrinkled, and the sides of her eyes crinkled. She was pulled from her musings when Emma, without turning around, asked, "Abi, can you come help me out here? Mr. Hackett swore he had the right stuff, but I'm not seeing it..." Emma's lips pursed, and Abigail, afraid her voice would shake at the mere thought of being in such an enclosed space with her, simply nodded despite being out of view.
She released her hold on the door, shuffling inside to fit in the cramped space.
Emma turned towards the door as she heard it creak, signifying it began to close, and reached out to stop it from shutting, but just barely missed. The door clinked shut, and she accidently pushed Abigail against the door in an attempt to keep it from closing. Abigail let out a squeak.
"Shit," Emma swore, banging a fist against the wooden door and inviting a flinch from Abi. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You said to hold the door, and I just—" Emma shook her head, stopping Abigail's quick apologies.
"Abi," she said, voice filled with a gentleness reserved only for Abigail, "it's fine. We'll figure something out."
"You aren’t mad?"
Emma rolled her eyes, smiling. "How could I ever be mad at you?" She let out a huff for show. "If anything, this just means I get out of cleaning up after an illness incubator." Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and Abigail laughed.
Emma then looked around the closet, granted vision by what little moonlight was provided by a small window. Meanwhile, Abi's heart was beating out of her chest. She found it increasingly hard to breathe, her face was flushed, and her eyes were darting all over the small space to avoid making eye contact.
Emma, ever vigilant, recognized how Abigail appeared to be uncomfortable and tried to back away, but bumped into the wall and came falling back onto Abi, pushing the artist further against the door.
Abigail's breath hitched, causing Emma to freeze and her eyes to widen. Abigail swallowed as Emma distanced herself what little she could to look into Abigail's eyes.
"Hey there," Emma whispered almost shakily.
Abigail nervously looked up at the taller girl pressed against her, and stressed her lip with her teeth as Emma began to analyze her features. Abigail's eyes flicked down to her lips, and she felt the sudden urge to kiss them. A part of her brain scolded her for the idea of doing so in a damn broom closet — how romantic. But still, the idea of kissing the girl (her best friend, she darkly reminded herself) who’s been on her mind for the past few weeks nipped at her heels, deriding her from the urgency of escaping this closet to help clean up after the sick kid.
"Um... Emma?"
Emma made a sound of acknowledgment as their noses brushed.
"Can you— I mean, are we— are you—"
"Going to kiss you? In a broom closet?" Emma's voice was a playful murmur, her breath warm against Abigail's lips.
Abigail's face flushed, her eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and she quickly nodded. In that moment, a wave of uncharacteristic uncertainty seemed to wash over Emma.
"If...if you want me to."
"Please." Abigail's whisper was barely audible, laden with nervousness.
Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as the nerves from earlier melted away. She leaned in slowly, deliberately closing the gap between them. Her lips met Abigail's in a soft, gentle kiss.
They were warm and inviting, brushing against Abigail’s in a featherlight caress before pressing more firmly, coaxing a deeper response. Abigail's breath hitched, and she leaned into the kiss, her hands tentatively reaching up to tangle in Emma's hair. Emma's grin widened against Abigail’s lips, and her hands found Abigail's waist, pulling her closer, pressing her harder against the door.
Abigail let out a small gasp as the sleek knob of the door pressed into her lower back, the slight discomfort lost in the surge of warmth flooding through her at Emma's insistent touch.
Abigail lightly pushed back against Emma, who quickly broke their kiss at the first sign of Abigail's wish to stop.
"Everything okay?"
Abigail shifted, biting her lip in the process. "Yes... I just— what about Jacob?"
Emma's nose wrinkled and her brows furrowed. "What about him?"
"Aren't you two, like..." she paused, bashful. "Involved?"
Emma choked out a laugh, but Abigail recognized the feeling it was meant to hide.
"It's nothing serious. It's just an act, you know? I can't let people know I'm..." she trailed off, whatever she was saying caught in her throat. "It's... it's just a bit of fun. Nothing more."
Abigail frowned, those few simple words striking her cold and resurfacing her earlier urge to curl in on herself. "Is- is that what this is? Just a bit of fun?" She asked sorrowfully, a hint of bitterness mixed in.
"No!" Emma said so abruptly that Abigail jumped, causing the former to lower her voice to a softer level in return. "No..." She looked away, backing away from Abigail as much as the restrictive space allowed her to while clutching her sides. "You don't... you don't understand. I have to be with him. If I don't, they'll know. Everyone will know that I'm not like them. Me liking girls, liking you… '' She inhaled shakily, turning completely away from Abigail so her pained expression wouldn't be visible. "...it's wrong. I'm not— it isn't— it's not right, liking you as much as I do. It's not what's expected of me." There's a tightness to her expression, a pain to it. She inhaled deeply. "I'm terrified I'll lose everything because of it — my followers, my friends, my job here, the support of my parents..." Her voice grew quieter and quieter as she continued, eyes on the floor. "...I’m terrified that I'll lose you too. I want you, Abi. I really do, but you deserve better than someone who thinks it's wrong , that they shouldn't feel this way."
A wave of guilt washed over Abigail.
"Emma..." She whispered, voice dripping with sorrow and sympathy. Emma remained silent; gaze locked on the floor. "I'm not mad at you for this, okay? You can't help the way you feel, and I'm not going to like you any less for your struggles. I don't mind! Really! I promise you won't lose me, especially over something like this. Not now, not ever. Trust me. I'm yours, if you'll have me." She paused, uncertain. "But... if it's possible, once camp is over, I'd prefer to be the only one? For Jacob to be... off the menu? Those are my terms and conditions." She tried to jest, something she never quite was good at. Her jokes often fell flat, but Emma always seemed to laugh at them - maybe she would now too.
Apparently, it worked.
Emma chuckled, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand. "I can make that work. It's not like I actually like him. He's... an okay guy, I guess." She squinted and pursed her lips, in mock deep thought. "Though... you're pretty great aaaand I like you. So, I think I can agree to those terms." Emma shot Abigail a smile, who smiled nervously in return.
"Oh, I'll keep the PDA to a minimum too. I mean, I don't like to hug him, or kiss him, or anything like that. It makes me feel gross, y'know?" Abigail's smile fell as she spoke because yes, she knew exactly what Emma meant. One night she wandered off to sketch and Nick came with her. He was nice, easy on the eyes, always complimented her drawings, and never once overstepped. Abigail should've liked him, but when he confessed his feelings for her that night, the thought of them together made her sick to her stomach. It made her realize guys were definitely not for her. It made her realize her feelings for Nick were fake, something she made up to distract herself from the person she actually held feelings for.
She was pulled from her memories when Emma continued speaking. "It wasn't great before, but I definitely don't want to at all now. You're preferable on all levels." Emma smirked, and Abigail's face burned. For someone who seemed terrified of her feelings, she sure was bold. Not that Abigail was complaining.
"Y-Yeah?"
"Hmm. I dunno yet. We'll have to figure it out, don't you think?"
Abigail's brain short circuited and she froze like a deer in headlights, earning a laugh from Emma — a real, genuine laugh. Not like the laughs she fabricated when laughing at one of Jacob's dumb jokes, but something else entirely. It ignited a burst of affection in her chest, an ounce of courage sparking alongside it. "Kiss me again." She breathed out, voice cracking as she did so. Emma's laughter calmed down as she stepped closer to Abigail, raising a hand and tucking hair that fell in her face aside. The redhead swallowed, face burning when a hand cupped her cheeks and an oh so genuine smile was cast her way. She closed her eyes, waiting for Emma to press her lips against hers once again.
...but instead, she heard a small click! from the door and found herself falling backwards.
She landed harshly on her back, Emma toppling down on top of her. Abigail groaned, slowly opening her eyes to try and figure out how the hell the door managed to open. The question quickly answered itself when she made eye contact with Dylan, who was staring down at them with an unimpressed expression while his hands rested on his hips. "Okay. Wow. First of all, it's about time. Second of all, what the hell, man! You two took so long in here that Kaitlyn sent me to help you guys look, but instead I found you canoodling in the closet — literally and figuratively! I mean, really? Come on!" Dylan looked genuinely disappointed, but his expression faded when he realized Emma looked like she was going to fall apart as she detangled herself. Abigail and Dylan exchanged a silent look that spoke volumes between them. Dylan immediately shifted his demeanor. "I'm not gonna tell anyone, 'kay? I'll just say you guys got sidetracked looking for some stuff to surprise the kids or whatever. My lips are sealed — promise." Dylan slipped into the supply closet and pulled out what Kaitlyn requested, holding the door open with his foot before backing out and turning to get the supposed surprise for the kids from the kitchen. While he walked away, Abigail turned to look at Emma. The girl seemed to have relaxed a bit more, her shoulders not as tense and breathing evenly once more. Her face, however, was unreadable.
"...Emma." Abigail said softly, shuffling towards her. "It'll be fine. Like he said, he won't say anything. He's— he's like us, so he understands—" The artist stopped her tangent before it could even begin and a look of confusion overcame her features when a giggle escaped Emma's lips.
"Why… Why are you laughing?" Abigail stuttered, confused yet grateful.
"Your face." Emma stated in a matter-of-fact manner. Abigail, still confused, gave her a questioning look.
Emma grinned, tapping a finger to her lips. "I'm just saying you might want to clean up a little before we rejoin the others." Abigail's eyebrows shot up as she brought a hand to her lips, face burning when she realized lipstick that wasn't hers stained them. "Emma!" Abigail hissed, only for the perpetrator to follow Dylan's path, shaking her shoulders playfully as she called over them. "Come and find me later! We'll continue where we left off!" She dragged the last word and with that, was out of sight.
Abigail huffed; her face flushed.
When Emma came back to the campfire, s'more supplies in hand, the children that were gathered around the fire cheered. The blonde took a seat, satisfied with how the events that unfolded went. Jacob suddenly plopped down beside her, questioning her about Abigail's whereabouts as he wrapped a single arm around her. Emma smiled in response, discreetly detaching herself from him under the guise of handing him the supplies to pass out equally among the kids. "You know Abi — she's clumsy. Spilt some stuff but didn't want to keep the kids waiting like the absolute sweetheart she is." Jacob nodded along, blissfully unaware as he began to dig through the supplies she handed him.
Emma smiled, satisfaction evident. "She'll join us eventually, I'm sure."
She did.
...eventually.