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Oil.

That's how Piper first describes her: like oil. She's charming, easy on the eyes, and effortlessly seductive, but she's oil. She slips between her fingers, coils around her and then disappears when the time feels right for her. It's an ugly word, and doesn't do her justice, but when Polly asks what she's like, what sort of personality she has, Piper responds saying Alex is like oil. On first impressions, Alex is smooth, she knows how to use her words, and her smile is contagious. Being around her is intoxicating and Piper is always, always, swooped in. And always left begging for more.

Even when Alex decides it's time to back away.

At first, Piper feels as if she's being used. Neglected. She thinks Alex doesn't appreciate her. The first time she slept with her was before Piper learnt the hard way Alex was still with someone. The second time they slept together was messier. Unplanned, and it only occurred by chance. It was hot, rushed, frantic and no matter how many times Alex made her cum, Piper needed to be touched again. She wanted Alex's hands all over her body, wanted her lips on her mouth, her tongue marking her flesh, her breath burning Piper's skin, making her sweat, pant, grasp her arms, the back of her head, moan and exclaim. She wanted Alex completely. Wanted every element of her; wanted every fucked up trait, and every twisted childhood memory that still haunts her –– Alex is far from stable; she reflects her dark, uncertain appearance. The confidence, the smiles and the words is all an act.

A well rehearsed act.

Piper doesn't want to be an act. She wants to be more than just an act. She wants to be different; wants Alex to see her as someone different. Not just any other girl who's happy to waltz into her arms because she's curious and wants to "experiment". Alex makes Piper's heart race, makes her palms clammy, makes her body tremble, makes her head spin, makes her struggle to catch her breath. But not due to the act; Piper can see right through her. It doesn't take long for her to pick apart the pieces, and realise just what sort of person Alex is.

That –– knowing what sort of person Alex is –– makes Piper fall in love with her.

Shy. Alex is shy. The dark clothes, dark hair and dark makeup appear intimidating; it causes people to wisely avoid her. She looks like trouble. The tattoos don't mean anything. They look cool. They are cool, and Alex is a cool girl. But, the tattoos don't necessarily mean anything to her. She wears the tattoos for the same reason she wears the dark clothes and dark makeup –– she wants to be seen, noticed, and then avoided out of fear. The shiest seem the most confident. Piper has witnessed this before, and she knows Alex's timidness is only a reflection of how she was treated by her fellow pupils at school. How they saw her, teased her, mocked her because she was a target; she could be mocked. Now, her height and her appearance turn her into stone. Untouchable, heartless.

Piper knows it's nothing. It's an act.

If anything, Alex is one of the most sensitive lovers she's had. And, in some regards, this makes her selfish.

Once, when they have spent the night together, Alex leaves the following morning without a word. She doesn't even wake up Piper to say good bye. This hurts; it hurts Piper bitterly. Two days later she receives a text from Alex, and it's fairly long-winded. Formal. Literate. Alex types like she speaks. No funny business. She apologies profusely, and then goes onto explain how her boss needed her out of the country at the last minute. Piper's stomach twists at that. She hates to be reminded about Alex's career, about what she does; it's the only thing that's pulling Piper away from her. For a while, Piper doesn't respond. She doesn't know how to deal with a woman who can't stay in one place at a time; who doesn't even have the common decency to inform her where she's going, or to even stay the night.

Finally Piper heals. She picks up her phone. Her reply is short, brief. Cold. A quick "Fine". No kisses attached, nothing. Almost neutral. Seconds later, Alex responds, asking if they can meet. It surprises Piper, and she wonders if Alex has been waiting for her to reply, if she's been waiting by her phone ever since she apologised. That's when it hits Piper how insecure Alex is. She doesn't know how to deal with Piper, she doesn't quite understand what Piper wants from her, and it's obvious why. Alex has never been in a relationship like this before. She's never been with a woman who wants to have a fulfilling relationship with her. Suddenly, what she has with Piper isn't about sex. Piper doesn't want her for sex, but for much more than that.

Alex can't commit.

She's never had to.

Until now.

Tears sting Piper's eyes when it hits, and she doesn't know why she's so upset. She's not disappointed. She's not disappointed that the confident, smooth, and self-educated woman is, in fact, a fidgeting, confused wreck of a disaster. Piper is just upset. She's upset that Alex is like this. It hasn't been long, but she already cares so much for her. Alex's uncertainty and puzzlement in the situation hurts Piper, and she realises who's really in charge here. Somehow, Piper fell for Alex's wit and smiles. Fell for her tricks and plays. Alex wants Piper to think she is the dominant one, she has control, because, for Alex, that's the only way she's been able to handle relationships. The only way she's been able to handle what life has thrown at her. But, as always, it's an act.

In reality, Piper has the upper hand.

When they meet again, Alex stays. She kisses her softly, apologises once more, thinks of more excuses. If Piper didn't know her, all she'd see is a smirking, nonchalant older lady who's so experienced in these matters she doesn't care that much. She's only apologising because she's used to it; she's used to abandoning her partner without notice.
Yet Piper does know her. Instead, she sees worry. Concern. Alex knows she's fucked up, and she's hoping Piper will forgive her. Of course, Piper does. How can she not? After this, she forgives Alex for a lot of other things too.

She forgives her for leaving on short notice again. For not returning for weeks at a time because of business problems. She forgives Alex when she walks through the door, doesn't say a word, kisses her urgently, pushes her back against the wall. She forgives Alex for trying, she forgives Alex for leaving. Every time she comes back, she's guilty, paranoid. Paranoid that Piper has given up. That she's left her, finally. It's as if Alex is counting down the days, waiting for Piper to realise how pointless all of this is. Alex's insecurities are clear when she tries to make Piper the happiest woman alive that night, pleases her in ways Piper never thought possible, loves her in ways Piper never knew existed.

Cumming more than five times in one night is excessive.
But Alex's generosity pays off.

Jealousy. Another sign of Alex's difficulty to commit, to trust and to enter into anything serious.

Alex is quiet when she's angry. Disturbingly quiet, but everyone in the room knows she's mad. It's as if there's a heat bouncing off her, a fire burning in her green irises. Piper is victim to the flame. Alex doesn't have to say anything, and Piper knows she's done something wrong. The little do Polly invited Piper and her girlfriend to isn't anything exciting. Just a celebration of the New Year, held a couple of weeks after the 1st of January. Piper doesn't expect to meet anyone there, until she spots an old friend from University. He's charming, sweet, handsome. And she likes him. In fact, she used to fancy him a few years back, which she foolishly informs Alex in passing.

This is the first mistake.
The next is when she spends over an hour talking to this guy, and only this guy.

Alex is like oil. She passes through every now and again, tries to catch some of their conversation, before walking past. No one notices her doing this. Alex displays her typical confidence, her easygoing personality. Her deceptive mask. And she forgets Piper is special, Piper is unique, and only Piper is able to grasp the issue. She's consciously aware of Alex eavesdropping when she can, consciously aware of Alex looking at the guy Piper is speaking to. Mentally punching him in the face. The hatred Alex feels for this man she doesn't know is phenomenal. It sends a shiver up Piper's spine and she doesn't even need to look at Alex to know this.

When they leave, Piper shows affection. She tries to hug her, kiss her, walk hand-in-hand with her, but Alex is stiff. She's quiet, and her eyes are dead.

It takes Alex nearly an hour to crack, to argue. It takes Piper nearly three minutes to burst into tears.

Immediately Alex realises how irrational she's been. The guilt and regret is displayed through her expression; she doesn't try to hide her emotions anymore, and it finally occurs to her how easily Piper can read her. She's an open book, and Piper is eagerly turning the pages, desperate to find out more and more. It's a harmful bond, and, yet, the best thing that can ever happen to Alex.

No one has read her like a book.
No one has cried at the idea that they've hurt her.
No one has cared.

No one has cared so much.

Piper is different.
And not just because Alex loves her. And she doesn't love Piper like she's "loved" other women in the past. This sort of love is intoxicating, poisonous, and so fucking amazing. Piper becomes this everything, this centre Alex clings to –– she's attached, dependant, suddenly Piper is at the forefront of her mind and she can't imagine –– can't grasp –– the idea of being with anyone else.

It's scary. Fucking terrifying.

This time, when Alex apologises, she doesn't smirk. She doesn't perform an act.
This time, when Alex apologises, it's real. It's similar to the time her ex caught she and Piper having an affair –– Alex is flustered, stuttering; she doesn't know what to do with herself. The timidness and insecurities break through, the guilt and realisation that she is an absolute fuck up.

Alex is like oil. Slipping through the cracks, her moods unpredictable and her interests back and forth.
She's imperfect. A damaged soul.

And Piper wants it all.

Softly, cautiously, Piper wraps her arms around the back of Alex's neck, and holds her.
The floor beneath their feet isn't balanced, it tremors and is close to shattering. Yet it still holds together. One way or another, it still holds.

'I forgive you.'

Another. She forgives her again. And she'll forgive her many, many other times.
But it's progress.
If forgiving Alex helps, then Piper will do just that.

They kiss, their noses bumping together, which makes Alex smile again. Makes her bounce right back.

'You're something else, kid.'

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