Angel's Library

Peppermint likes Korsica. She cares about her a lot. She’ll never say that though; that’s a heavy thought reserved for herself. Because love is a heavy word. One that she doesn’t use lightly. Something reserved for only a handful of people.

She wouldn’t say that her love for Korsica is the same sort that she feels for any of the others. Which doesn’t mean that the love for them isn’t as important. It’s just…different. It feels different. The sort of feeling you get when you program a robot to move, and you watch as it does. The type you feel when you finally crack a tough code. The sensation of looking at something you created in its completed form. None of those feelings are exactly the same. And none of them feel the same as how she feels about Korsica. Those are just the best ways she can think of to describe it.

Often, when they’re together, she finds herself staring. Because Korsica is really, really pretty. She’s smart. Kind. Fierce. Dependable. How could Peppermint not admire her? How could she not be in love with her?

There’s a hundred thousand million things she wants to do. Go on a date to the movies; to the park; a cafe; their favorite restaurants; the arcade; have a picnic; watch the sunrise and sunset; stargaze; get ice cream; have a simple night in. Hold her hand, fingers interlocked. Cuddle. Wake up next to her. Breakfast in bed. Kiss her. On the cheek, lips, nose, eyes, forehead, hands, arms, neck, chest— everywhere. Every cheesy, romantic thing you can think of, that’s what she wants.

But Peppermint can’t have what she wants. It’s nothing new; the crushing disappointment. And it’s not like it was unexpected. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

If only Korsica loved her, too.

The docks are peaceful. It’s a bright, clear day. The sound of chatter has been in the air since they left the hideout. Now, it’s accompanied by the sloshing of the waves, seagulls screeching, and the boats pulling in and out.

Peppermint and Korsica are walking side-by-side. Their hands, fingers interlocked, sway between them. The others are just behind them, talking about…something. Honestly, Korsica stopped paying attention about halfway here. She’s been too caught up in her thoughts.

Renovations. Peppermint’s leaving. Meetings. Scheduling. Peppermint’s leaving. Her shoulder is prickling. There’s an event coming up. Wing 3 is almost finished. Peppermint’s leaving. Laughter behind her. Dinner next week. A ship’s horn blares. Companywide password reset in a few days. Peppermint’s leaving. The duffel bag she’s carrying is starting to feel heavier. She needs to go to the pharmacy on Friday to pick up her pills. The cool breeze feels nice. She should call—

Peppermint squeezing her hand, then letting it go and saying, “Well…I guess this is it,” sends her train of thought carreening off the tracks.

They’ve stopped in front of the boat she’ll be going on. It’s a small passenger ship. There’s already a few others aboard. Some more are getting on ahead of them.

Korsica turns and watches as she lets go of her suitcase. 808 hops off of Chai’s shoulder to sit on it, tail flicking as she spectates.

Peppermint hugs Chai first. They speak to one another quietly, before pulling away.

“I know this is asking a lot…but don’t do anything stupid.”
“Oh, c’mon! Have some faith in me!” he exclaims, putting his hand to his chest.
She rolls her eyes, a small smirk on her face. “Maybe I will if you manage to.”
With a huff, he crosses his arms. His grin betrays him.

Next is Macaron, who squeezes her tightly. She stumbles a bit when he lets go.

“Be safe,” he says with a smile.
She offers him one in return. “I will.”

Then, it’s CNMN’s turn. They hug her and pat her on the back a few times.

“Safe travels, Miss Peppermint!”
“Thanks, CNMN.”

Finally, she turns to Korsica. Setting her duffel bag down next to her suitcase, Korsica smiles weakly. Peppermint pulls her into a tight hug. Wrapping her arms around her in turn, she squeezes her gently. She presses a kiss to the top of Peppermint's head.

They stay like that for a while. It feels like only a few seconds. When Peppermint eventually pulls away, Korsica pushes down the desire to keep her close.

"Have a good, safe trip," she says. "Call or...text me when you get there."
"I will," Peppermint replies.

Standing up on her tiptoes and placing her hands against her chest, she kisses her. Korsica’s eyes widen momentarily. She quickly responds in kind.

Peppermint steps away. She grins up at her. Then, she turns and grabs her things. 808 jumps down and pads up to everyone to get pets. They each eagerly give her some attention.

When she comes up to Korsica, she crouches down and scritches 808 behind the ear. She glances up at Peppermint.

“Keep an eye on her for me,” she whispers.
808 meows and nods, expression serious.
She smiles.

Things gathered—and 808 now perched on her shoulder—Peppermint climbs aboard the ship. They wave at her as she does.

“See you guys in a few months!” she calls.
“Seeya! Bring us back some souvenirs!”
“Bye! Hope you have a good time!”
“Goodbye!”
“Bye!” Korsica hesitates a second before adding, “Love you!”

Peppermint stops and turns all the way around to look at her. Her eyes are wide. After a moment, a great, beaming smile spreads across her face.

“Love you, too!”

Korsica’s face heats up a little. She grins.

Korsica walks into her apartment, bags of groceries in hand. Setting them on the counter, she gets all the vegetables she bought out and rinses them. Then, as she fetches the cutting board, she digs through the cabinets for the recipe cards Da gave her before she left ages ago. Looking through them for the one she wants, she finds herself reminiscing. She hasn’t made any of these dishes in quite a while. Just…hasn’t had the time.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she grabs the card for Scotch broth.

Once she’s read it, she dices up the veggies. Gathering up the bits of onion and garlic, she puts them in a pot to cook for a bit. While she waits, she checks her email.

Her inbox is fairly empty, all things considered. Just a few updates on construction, some packages, and a few other things. No pressing issues, thankfully. There haven’t been many for a while now since they got the new nodes sorted and running. Still, it’s hard for her to not worry about it.

She responds to most of her emails before checking on the veggies. Finding them to have softened up, Korsica adds in the grains, peas, herbs, and lamb. She salts it all before pouring the broth she got in.

She checks the recipe. Seems she has more waiting to do.

Sending a text to Peppermint, she sits down at the counter. Then, she gets her laptop out. Might as well get something done—after all, a watched pot never boils.

She gets a bit of the new cybersecurity system done by the time it does. After adjusting the heat, covering the top, and setting a 2 hour timer, she gets back to work. 

Just as she sits back down, her phone goes off. Picking it up, Korsica perks up when she sees that Peppermint responded to her.

How are you feeling?                                                 

                                                  Meh
                                                  Hru?

I’m alright.                                                  
I planned on coming over later                                                  
Is that ok?                                                  

                                                  Yea
                                                  Be nice to see u

A smile spreads across her face.

We saw each other just the other                                                  
day…but it’ll be nice to see you, too                                                  

When Peppermint doesn’t respond after a few minutes, Korsica sets her phone aside. Turning her attention to her work, she gets back to, well, working on it.

The timer goes off, startling her. It doesn’t feel like it’s been 2 hours. Regardless of how she feels, though, she needs to put the rest of the veggies in. So, that’s what she does. Then, she sets the timer again; this time for just an hour.

Sitting down at the counter again, she cracks her knuckles. Korsica winces a bit. Stretching her arms out, she squeezes her stabilizers. She sighs. Alright. Back to it.

Once the timer goes off, she carefully gets the meat out from the pot. Grabbing two forks, she starts tearing at it. As she does, she rips the bones out, setting them aside. When she figures it's shredded enough, she tosses it back in.

She stirs the soup a bit. Sprinkling more salt in, she tastes it.

Korsica feels like she's back home, in the kitchen with her da, helping with supper. A wobbly smile spreads across her face.

After turning the stove off, she fetches a thermos. She scoops soup into it until it's mostly full. Screwing the lid on tight, she gets her keys and heads out.

Upon arriving at the hideout, Korsica knocks on the door. She adjusts her grip on the thermos as she hears footsteps from the other side.

It opens to reveal…Chai. She probably shouldn't be surprised. Of course Peppermint isn't up and about right now. She must be in bed.

"Hey. She’s in her room," he states as he steps aside to let her in.
"Hi—and, uh, thanks."
“Sure?” He glances down at the thermos. “Better get that to her before it catches a cold, too.”
Korsica quirks a brow and sighs fondly. “Right.”

Stepping into Peppermint's room, she finds her, as she guessed, in bed. She’s sitting up, doing something on her phone. A tissue box is next to her. The trashcan near her bed is overflowing. 808 is cuddled up under her arm. Her ears twitch as Korsica walks in. Blinking slowly at her, she meows, causing Peppermint to shift her attention down to her, then follow her gaze over to Korsica.

She offers a small smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Korsica replies, smiling back.

She sits down on the edge of the bed and holds the thermos out. “I made you some soup. I hope you like it.”

Her eyes widen, brows raising. Setting her phone aside, she gingerly takes the thermos, staring at it for a moment.

“Wow. Thanks. You—you didn’t have to.”
“I know. I wanted to.”
A faint blush spreads across Peppermint’s face.

She opens the thermos up, grabbing the foldable spoon stored in the lid. Unfolding it, she stirs the soup around, pulling the thermos closer to her face to blow on it.

Korsica watches her intently as she takes the first bite.

Her eyes light up. With a pleased sounding hum, she takes another. Korsica grins.

“Good?”
“Mhm!” She swallows. “Real good.”
“I’m glad.”
“What kind is this?”
“Oh, it’s Scotch broth. My family’s recipe.”
“...Did you make more?”
“I made a whole pot of it. I’ll bring some more over tomorrow, if you want.”
“Yes, please!”

She chuckles. Leaning forward, she presses a kiss to her forehead.
“Anything for you, love.”

Peppermint jolts awake as Korsica suddenly lunges upright. The movement forces her off, leaving her blinking blearily up at the ceiling.

Rubbing her eyes, she wonders what time it is. Shortly after is when she registers the sound of Korsica’s heavy breathing. Looking up at her, Peppermint notices how she’s clutching at her shoulder. Her face is obscured by her hair, but she can imagine her panicked expression.

Oh. Another nightmare.

“Need your ointment?” she asks as she sits up.

Korsica freezes. Then, her head snaps in her direction. She stares at Peppermint with wide eyes for a few moments. Slowly, her shoulders drop. Her expression shifts from fearful to exhausted.

“...Yes, please,” she eventually replies, voice quiet.

Turning on the lamp, Peppermint grabs the container from the bedside table. She opens it, then goes to hold it out toward her—but falters slightly. Korsica’s hand, still clutching at her shoulder, is trembling. If they weren’t so close, she doubts she would’ve noticed.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?”

She looks at her hand, which is still holding onto her shoulder. Korsica takes a deep breath. Her hand falls away. She stares down at her lap.

“Yes. Please.”

Peppermint frowns. Scooping some of the ointment onto her fingers, she gently starts applying it to her shoulder. Korsica flinches slightly.

“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You…don’t need to apologize.”

The light and their talking must’ve woken up 808, because, with a half-meow, half-yawn, she hops out of her charging bed and onto their bed. She pads up to Korsica. Clambering into her lap, she curls up. Korsica almost immediately starts petting her. She purrs, nuzzling into her hands. Peppermint smiles.

It’s quiet—save for the sound of 808’s purring—for a little while.

“Was it the usual one?” Peppermint asks, breaking the silence.
Another moment passes. Then, “Yeah.”
She hums in acknowledgement, her lips pursing.

An old, familiar anger starts to bubble up in her chest. But she’s too tired to really be mad right now. Besides, there’s…not much point in it. The man that it’s directed at is long gone. For the most part, anyways. There’s nothing she can do—aside from offer Korsica help and comfort.

They lapse back into silence.

Just as Peppermint finishes applying the ointment, Korsica speaks again.

"...I'm an idiot for trusting him."

She’s officially not too tired anymore.

" No, " Peppermint says, "you aren't."
She looks at her with wide eyes.

"Like I told you all those months ago, Kale manipulates." She shakes her head. "Manipulat ed. He always did. Everyone trusted him, because he made himself out to be someone he wasn't: fit to run the company. Which it having a good rep helped with. Nobody on the outside knew what he was up to. Even people on the inside—like you and Macaron—didn't really know. And even before that, he…he was always using people. Fooling them into thinking he cared—making me seem like the bad guy."

She shuts her eyes for a moment. Peppermint does her best to bury the complicated ball of feelings that just arose. The memories of a years old argument. She takes a deep breath.

"So...no. You're not an idiot."

808 mewls, climbing partially out of Korsica’s lap and into Peppermint’s to rub against her arm. She buries her fingers in her fur with her other hand.

Korsica is staring at her, eyes still wide. Her mouth is partially open, forming a small ‘o.’ Then, her lips purse and her brow furrows. Leaning forward, she wraps her arms around Peppermint, pulling her into a hug. Her hands tremble a bit against her back.

Returning the hug, Peppermint sighs. "Sorry."
"You don't need to be sorry."
"But I'm supposed to be comforting you. "
"...We can...comfort each other."
She smiles. "Yeah. Alright."

Eventually, they turn the light off and lie back down, still holding one another. 808 curls up next to them.

As she's dozing off, Peppermint feels Korsica press a kiss to the top of her head. A warm feeling blossoms in her chest. It follows her into her hazy, peaceful dreams.