In Your Arms

Downfall

Farrah took a large bite of a red apple in her hand, enjoying the sweet sensation of the juices trickling down her throat.

"This is so good," she spoke to no one in particular, picking out another apple and placing it in a basket on the damp floor.

It had been just three days since Farrah last had her birthday party. Skye noticed she wasn't eating anything and informed her she could chow down on some of the fruits and vegetables in the gardens. Perhaps she didn't want to touch the cook's meals. Farrah decided it was worth a shot.

Her appetite soon became equal to that of a ravenous bear. She figured it might have been due to starving herself the last couple of days, but even so the more fruit and veggies she ate, the more she wanted. She couldn't complain, though. She was gaining weight again and even her constant vomiting sessions were disappearing.

"Farrah!" A familiar voice coming from the entrance of the gardens forced her to stop stuffing her face and turn towards a rather tired looking Skye. He leaned against a long, metal pole, crossing his arms over his chest as he swallowed nervously. Farrah couldn't even tell what the issue was with him, nor did she really care. All she was worried about at that moment was gathering enough apples to make some homemade pie for the group Skye said he had managed to put together. She had gone through a whole list of points to tell everyone present on how she had come to know Isen and Algol. Farrah had even lost countless hours of sleep, but she was so excited she could hardly contain herself.

"You think these are enough?" She asked, holding out a large basket filled with shiny, hard fruit. Skye pretended to be intrigued by them, and he even managed to crack a grin, "They look delicious. I'm sure everyone will love it."

"I hope so. If you'll excuse me, I have to start-."

"Wait."

He stopped her before she could walk past him and was met with a confused glance. "It's, well, it's just that it'll take a long time to make the pie and I'm sure you just want to go talk to them."

"Are they waiting?"

Skye struggled to respond, but instead of giving the answer he was ordered to give, he decided for once he would do things his way. At least for a bit. "Nah. Let's go make some apple pie."

Farrah pushed her way past the gated picket fence surrounding the garden and eagerly made her way to the kitchen close by. It was midday and the cook wouldn't be around for another couple hours to prepare dinner, so Farrah and Skye had the place to themselves.

"Can you get the fire started? I'll start peeling the apples."

Skye silently obeyed, opening one of the cabinets to start his search for a box of matches. "So how'd you learn to make apple pie anyways?"

Farrah grabbed a knife close by, silently humming as she carefully peeled the skin off of the apple in her grip. Instead of tossing the remains to one side, she decided it was best to munch away at them. " One of the ladies around here gave me a recipe. She said it should work on a stove top even if we don't have an oven."

"So you're making friends?"

"I wouldn't say that, exactly," Farrah mumbled, shrugging to herself as if she didn't know the answer. "I get along with certain people here and there. It's different, though."

Skye paused to examine the woman, lowering his voice to prevent someone else from hearing their conversation, "Different from how you're friends with those two, right?"

Farrah didn't respond, but Skye knew the answer. For some reason, a tang of unwanted jealousy that had began to eat away at his gut for some time now returned. It was something that just wouldn't let him go.