Chapter Twenty-One
Two days.
It had been two days since the kiss, and Annabelle was now officially spiraling, as opposed to the slightly dramatic unofficial spiral of the day after the kiss.
She'd told herself she wouldn't spiral. She'd promised Lily she wouldn't spiral. She'd even made a list of reasons why spiraling was both unhelpful and unnecessary.
And yet here she was, standing in front of her Year Three class, explaining division while her brain replayed the same question on an endless loop: Why is Raven avoiding me?
"Ms. Swift?" Louis raised his hand. "You said eight divided by two is seventeen."
Annabelle blinked at the whiteboard where she'd written, quite clearly, 8 ÷ 2 = 17.
"That's… not correct," she said slowly, grabbing the eraser. "Thank you, Louis. Eight divided by two is four. Obviously. I was just testing to see if you were paying attention."
"Were we supposed to be paying attention?" Gemma asked innocently.
"Yes," Annabelle said, a bit too sharply. Then, softer, "Yes, darling, always."
She corrected the board and tried to refocus, but her thoughts kept drifting. She hadn't seen Raven since the kiss.
Did I do something wrong? Did she hate it? Does she regret it?
The bell rang for break time, and Annabelle practically sagged with relief.
"Off you go," she said, mustering her brightest smile as the children stampeded toward the door. "And remember, no running in the corridors!"
They ran in the corridors.
"Ms. Swift?" Jamie appeared beside her desk, clutching his reading log. "When is Miss Raven coming back? I wanted to show her the chord she taught me. I've been practicing."
Annabelle's smile faltered. "I'm not sure, love. Soon, I hope."
"Did she leave?" Jamie's face crumpled slightly. "Is she gone?"
"No!" Annabelle said quickly. Too quickly. "No, she's just… busy. With the music. For the fundraiser."
"Oh." Jamie didn't look convinced. "Okay."
He shuffled off, and Annabelle pressed her palms flat against her desk, taking a slow breath.
Pull yourself together. You're being ridiculous.
ANNABELLE REPEATED THOSE words to herself all afternoon.
You’re being ridiculous.
Right up until Indra froze during the fundraiser dress rehearsal, too nervous to remember her lines.
"What’s wrong, sweetie?" Annabelle asked, taking her to one side.
Indra looked down at the ground. "I’m scared. Thomas said there was going to be a million people watching just like on the TV and stuff and now I’m scared that all those people are going to be watching and…" She took a deep, shuddering breath.
"It's okay to be scared," Annabelle told her gently, kneeling down so they were eye level. "But you're going to go out there anyway, because you've practiced, and you know your lines, and you're brilliant. Sometimes being brave just means doing it even when you're frightened."
Indra nodded, took a deep breath, and trotted off to the front of the stage, where she delivered her lines perfectly.
Annabelle smiled, but the words echoed in her own head.
Sometimes being brave just means doing it even when you're frightened.
By the time school ended, Annabelle had made up her mind.
Ugh. Sometimes she even annoyed herself with her optimism and positive thinking. Which didn’t mean she wasn’t right. She was right. Very right.
Which meant that right after school, she was going to march over to Raven's cottage and knock on that door until Raven answered. And if Raven tried to hide or make excuses, Annabelle was going to, well, she didn't know what she was going to do, exactly. But she was going to do something.
She drove home, changed into jeans and her favorite lavender jumper, and stared at herself in the mirror.
"You can do this," she told her reflection. "You're brave. You're capable. You're…"
Her reflection looked back at her, skeptical.
"Oh, sod it," Annabelle muttered, and marched out the door before she could talk herself out of it.
RAVEN'S COTTAGE LOOKED exactly as it always did: warm light glowing through the windows, the faint sound of guitar drifting through the walls. Annabelle knocked firmly, her heart hammering in her chest.
A long pause.
Then footsteps.
The door opened, and there was Raven, looking guilty and scared and achingly beautiful in the soft evening light.
"Annabelle," Raven said, her voice carefully neutral. "Hey."
"Are we going to talk about it," Annabelle asked, her voice steadier than she felt, "or are you going to hide?" She’d been practicing that one sentence for the last hour. It was all she could get out. She couldn’t even smile, she was so focused on saying her one line.
Raven flinched. For a moment, Annabelle thought she might close the door. But then Raven stepped back, gesturing her inside.
"Come in."
Annabelle walked into the cottage, and Raven shut the door behind her.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and awkward. Raven shoved her hands into her pockets, looking anywhere but at Annabelle.
"I wasn't hiding," Raven said finally.
"You weren't?" Annabelle raised an eyebrow. "Because it's been two days, and I haven’t seen you."
"I needed time to think."
"About?"
"About this!" Raven's voice cracked slightly. "About us. About what the hell I'm doing."
Annabelle's chest tightened. "And what conclusion did you reach?"
Raven dragged a hand through her hair, her expression pained. "I don't know how to do this, Annabelle. I don't know how to do… this."
"Do what?"
"Whatever this might be. Is. Could be." Raven let out a frustrated breath. "I'm not good at this. I ruin things. I…"
"Stop," Annabelle said firmly. She stepped closer, close enough to see the exhaustion in Raven's eyes, the fear beneath the walls. "Stop talking about yourself like that."
"It's true."
"It's not." Annabelle reached out and took Raven's hand. "You're scared. That's okay. I'm scared too."
Raven looked down at their joined hands, her jaw tight. "What if I hurt you?"
"What if you don't?"
Raven's eyes snapped up to meet hers.
"We can take it slow," Annabelle said softly. "We can figure this out as we go. But I need you to actually show up, Raven. I need you not to disappear every time things get complicated."
Raven swallowed hard. "I can try."
"That's all I'm asking."
They stood there, hands clasped, the tension between them slowly shifting into something else. Something softer.
"I didn't hate the kiss," Raven said quietly. "In case you were wondering."
Annabelle felt a smile tug at her lips. "I might have been wondering."
"I liked it," Raven continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I liked it a lot. That's why I panicked."
"Raven," Annabelle said, stepping closer still, "you're allowed to like things. You're allowed to want things. You're allowed to be happy."
Raven's throat worked as she swallowed. "I don't know if I remember how."
"Then let me remind you."
Annabelle leaned in slowly, giving Raven every chance to pull away. But Raven didn't pull away. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Annabelle's in a kiss that was soft and tentative and achingly sweet.
For a moment, they stayed like that, gentle and careful.
Then Raven's hand came up to cup Annabelle's face, and the kiss deepened. Annabelle sighed into it, her hands sliding to Raven's waist, pulling her closer.
"Annabelle," Raven breathed against her lips.
"Yes?"
"I like you."
Annabelle smiled, pulling back just enough to look at her. "I like you too."
Raven's eyes searched hers, and whatever she saw there seemed to steady her. She leaned in again, kissing Annabelle more urgently this time, her hands tangling in Annabelle's hair.
Annabelle felt the world narrow to this: Raven's lips on hers, Raven's hands pulling her close, the warmth of her body, the soft sound she made when Annabelle's fingers brushed the small of her back.
And suddenly she wanted more. There was no thought of Raven being a rockstar or anything else. There was just Raven her neighbor. Her neighbor that had long fingers and a searching tongue and hands on her waist and… Annabelle groaned, the wanting suddenly consuming her.
"Bedroom?" Raven whispered, her voice rough.
Annabelle nodded, her heart pounding. "Bedroom."
Without another word, Raven took her hand and led her through the cottage. When they reached the doorway, Raven paused, turning back to Annabelle with an almost shy expression.
"You're sure?"
"Sure," Annabelle said, reaching up to cup Raven's face. "Very sure."
Raven's eyes darkened, and then she was lifting Annabelle, carrying her across the threshold. Annabelle let out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around Raven's neck.
"Show-off," she murmured.
"Maybe," Raven said, setting Annabelle down gently beside the bed.
They stood there for a beat, the air between them charged and electric. Then Annabelle reached for the hem of Raven's t-shirt, tugging it up slowly.
Raven raised her arms, letting Annabelle pull the shirt over her head. Her skin was pale in the soft lamplight, and Annabelle traced a finger along her collarbone, marveling at the warmth of her.
"Your turn," Raven said, her voice low.
Annabelle lifted her arms, and Raven carefully pulled her jumper off, followed by the shirt underneath. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Annabelle felt suddenly vulnerable, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with clothing.
"You're beautiful," Raven said softly.
Annabelle felt heat rise in her cheeks. "So are you."
Raven leaned in, kissing her again, slower this time, more deliberate. Her hands skimmed down Annabelle's sides, thumbs brushing the edge of her bra, and Annabelle shivered.
"Cold?" Raven murmured against her lips.
"No," Annabelle breathed. "Definitely not cold."
Raven smiled, a real, genuine smile, and guided Annabelle backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. They tumbled onto it together, limbs tangling, laughter bubbling up between kisses.
"This is ridiculous," Annabelle said, giggling as Raven's elbow nearly caught her in the ribs.
"Completely ridiculous," Raven agreed, but she was smiling too, and when she kissed Annabelle again, it was with a tenderness that made Annabelle's chest ache.
They took their time, unhurried and careful, learning the shape of each other.
Raven's hands were gentle as they traced the curve of Annabelle's waist, the line of her hip.
Annabelle's fingers threaded through Raven's hair, tugging softly, drawing out a quiet moan that sent heat pooling low in her belly.
"Okay?" Raven asked, her hand pausing at the button of Annabelle's jeans.
"More than okay," Annabelle whispered.
Raven unfastened the button, sliding the jeans down slowly, her touch reverent. When they were both finally bare, skin against skin, Annabelle felt herself relax into it, into Raven, into this moment, into the quiet certainty that this was exactly where she was meant to be.
Raven kissed her way down Annabelle's neck, across her collarbone, down to the soft swell of her breast. Annabelle's breath hitched, her hands gripping Raven's shoulders as her mouth found a nipple, tongue circling gently before closing around it.
"God," Annabelle gasped.
Raven hummed against her skin, moving to the other breast, taking her time, and Annabelle felt herself arching into the touch, desperate for more.
"Raven," she managed, her voice shaky. "Please."
"Please what?" Raven looked up at her, eyes dark and teasing.
"Touch me."
Raven's expression softened, and she slid a hand down Annabelle's stomach, between her thighs. The first touch was feather-light, almost tentative, and Annabelle bit her lip to keep from whimpering.
"Like this?" Raven asked, her fingers brushing against her center.
"Yes," Annabelle breathed. "Just like that."
Raven's touch grew firmer, more confident, fingers sliding through wetness, finding a rhythm that made Annabelle's toes curl. She kissed Annabelle deeply, swallowing her gasps and sighs, her own breathing quickening as Annabelle's hips began to move against her hand.
"You're so beautiful like this," Raven whispered against her mouth. "I could watch you forever."
Annabelle couldn't form words anymore. There was only sensation, Raven's fingers, Raven's mouth, the heat building inside her, tightening, coiling, until she couldn't hold it back any longer.
"Raven," she gasped, clinging to her. "I'm—"
"I've got you," Raven murmured, her fingers never faltering. "Let go. I've got you."
And Annabelle did. She let go, crying out as the pleasure crashed over her, wave after wave, Raven's name on her lips and Raven's arms wrapped around her, holding her as she shook and trembled and finally, slowly, came back to herself.