Chapter 22

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“How did it go?” I tentatively ask Serendipity as she comes out of the conference room. They’ve been in there almost two hours, and I spent every second waiting outside the door for her. I wanted to come in with her, to be there for her, but Director pirate said it was confidential. Confidential. I’m confidential. The poptarts inside the matzah box are confidential. 

She shrugs, not meeting my eyes. Worry breaks out, and I glance up and down her, seeing her hands shake as she wraps them tightly around her torso. I wrap her into a hug, scanning the halls for other people. Once I’m certain that there’s no one around to see us I gently press her head onto my chest, encouraging her to let me comfort her. Since that first day that we got her back, Serendipity has put forth a lot of effort to ensure no one sees how upset she is. That no one sees that she is terrified. That no one sees the nightmares that come for her. 

Except for me. I see it. And I’m trying my hardest to help her. 

She lays her head on my chest, relenting, and wrapping her arms around my neck; squeezing her eyes shut. It’s enough of a response for me. She’s come so far since we got back. I got her to leave her room for a meeting today- instead of just holding them unorthodoxly on her kitchen floor. I even got her to sing earlier! She nearly broke down when the pirate asked me to wait outside. She gave me a heartbreaking look, begging me to do something. I said that I’d wait outside, and that was enough. 

“Where do you want to go?” I whisper to her. I glance at the clock above the stairs. It’s almost 6pm. “We could go get food?” I suggest. She nods, reluctantly letting go of me. As she opens her eyes, deeply inhaling, I notice that she looks significantly better than she did a few minutes ago. 

“Are you good now?” 

“Yeah.” She says, thinking. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go get dinner.” She agrees, sliding a hand down my arm and taking mine. We walk through the halls and down a set of stairs, taking a long leisurely walk to the mess hall. After walking in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the fit of her hand in mine, I make up my mind on asking her an important question. 

“Little witch?” I ask her, my heart already beating harder. Calm down you oaf, you haven’t even said anything yet! 

“Hmm?” She responds, turning to look at me. 

“I was wondering…” I begin, trying to find the words. As I desperately try to get myself together, a smile splits across her face, and I can already feel the mockery building. 

“Are you nervous?” She asks me, dropping my hand and stopping in the middle of the hall. 

“No, I-I’m-“ 

“Your silver tongue is tied up? Pigs might as well be flying!” She declares loudly, laughing at my being flustered. I blush, and grab her arm. 

“I’m trying to talk to you, can you shut up for one moment, minx?” I ask her, joking. 

“Alright alright, ask away,” The witch says, throwing up her hands in mock frustration. 

“So…” I start. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together.” Her face shifts to real seriousness, but she doesn’t interrupt, so I continue. “And we’ve kissed a few times, as you are well aware; which naturally leads me to believe that there is a mutual care for each other.” The words begin to pour out, now that I’ve started. 

“I am certain, for myself at least, that I care for you. I know that you are lovely, and that you are the most amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I just want to know… do you feel the same?” I finish, and I wait for her to respond, a few moments that are extended to what feels like hours of agony. 

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