【 dear ex lover 】
abigail laker-quill wore her heart on her sleeves; maybe that's why it was so easy for pope heyward to shatter it.
pope heyward x fem!oc
ex lovers to lovers
obx s1-2
book 1
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chapter ten; I SHOOT THINGS.
"HEY, LOSERS, I found something really — " Abby trailed off, finding her words dying off as she came face-to-face with the empty sight of the Chateau. She furrowed her brows, looking to her left and then to her right; still, it appeared as though no one was there, " — weird."
Abby looked down at her bag, gnawing on her inner cheek when she saw the spine of the book inside. Determined to share what she'd found, she continued further into the Chateau, peeking her head around the corner towards the kitchen. It was left in the same condition it was in last night; an open bag of moldy bread on the counter, as well as the peanut butter jar and a half-burned candle.
Abby hummed, her eyes catching the familiar surroundings. Pictures, beer bottles, random vapes (which, by the way, astounds Abby, because last time she checked, JJ has, like, no money), and some discarded shirts.
She can't help herself as she ventures to the corner, where she grabs her old hoodie — which is from when she was fourteen — and smiles at the old memories it brings with it. She always meant to grab her things from John B's house, but after everything, she deemed it too complicated and ignored the task completely.
That's basically code for she is antisocial and lazy and didn't feel like leaving the house or coming face-to-face with Pope. That's the direct translation, actually.
Tossing the soft fabric over her bag, she heads towards the back of the house, where she continues to echo John B? and JJ? over and over. By this point, John B's house is JJ's house, and she almost always expects his presence. This time, however, he was nowhere to be found, and Abby's confusion only grew as she found the bathroom door slightly ajar, the light peeking from the crack.
She gently pushed it open, brows furrowing when she saw Pope sitting on the closed toilet lid. She blinked, confused, and further grew skeptical when he didn't even spare a glance in her direction.
"Pope?" Abby tilted her head slightly. He still didn't look, and by this point, Abby was growing slightly annoyed. He'd pretended she didn't exist before — and here he was doing it again. She huffed after a moment, "Seriously? You won't even acknowledge my existence? Isn't that just — "
Abby regrets it.
She regrets thinking he was ignoring her, and she regrets assuming he was just being petty. She regrets all of it the very second their eyes meet — chocolate and hazel, a messy mesh of dark and light that takes her breath away.
"Pope?" Abby breathed out quietly, voice soft. Her eyes were sad and shocked, tears brimming in the corners as she slowly ran her gaze over the expanse of his face.
