Wait For It | a Hamilton fanfiction | wattys 2017

Chapter 90

Pippa takes a deep breath and shoves her phone in the pocket of her pea coat. After checking her hair and lip gloss in the mirror one final time, she walks out of her hotel room. The butterflies in her stomach are a constant reminder of where she is going: to see Steven and talk about her apartment.

She is terrified, and that's putting it lightly.

Once she steps off of the subway, Pippa runs her fingers through her hair and takes a deep breath. She walks through the familiar glass doors to her apartment building. The doorman welcomes her with a warm smile.

"Pippa! We need to talk about your apartment at some point. Are you here to see Steven right now?"

"Yes," Pippa smiles.

"Great. He said he was expecting you. Go ahead up."

Pippa smiles, and thanks him, then boards the elevator, taking it up to the 9th floor. Her apartment is on the 10th floor, and she almost pushes that button out of habit, but stops herself. She is scared to see the damage that has been done, quite frankly. It seems like she had just finished making the place, well, Pippa-ish, and then it was all ruined.

Once the elevator dings nine times and the doors open, letting her out into the hallway, Pippa's nerves grow, even though she didn't think that was possible.

She walks up to Stevens apartment and knocks on the door, biting her bottom lip while she waits for him to answer.

"Pippa!" he exclaims, as soon as the door swings open. "Come in!"

"Thank you," Pippa smiles, wiping her boots on the door mat.

"Have a seat. Do you want anything to drink? Hot chocolate? Coffee? Tea? Water?" Steven asks.

"If it isn't too much hassle, I would love some tea," Pippa says.

"Not at all! I have berry, green tea, or chamomile tea."

"Could I have berry?" Pippa asks.

"Of course! How about we go to the kitchen and talk? I can put the water on that way."

Steven leads Pippa to the kitchen and motions for her to sit down in a chair. Pippa does so, and then, Steven places a tea kettle on the stove and sits down next to Pippa.

"So, uh, have you seen my apartment?" Pippa asks.

"I haven't, but I heard that it was pretty bad," Steven frowns, sympathetically.

"That's what I was afraid of," she groans. "What furniture was saved?"

"There was an armchair, a few blankets, and about ten framed pictures, as well as your bed frame, but not the mattresses," Steven tells her. Pippa cringes. It's not nearly as much as she had hoped, but it's okay. She will get insurance money to just buy new things.

"Okay."

"I know it isn't much, but it's better than nothing."

"That's very true," Pippa smiles.

"I'm just going to be honest, there was a couch that survived the flood as well, but, well, it didn't survive Carl. It had so much beer spilled on it that I figured you wouldn't want it. He kept it, if you want to go see it."

"No, that's okay. I trust your judgement," Pippa laughs. "I can't believe him."

"He's just the building's fat, drunk guy. I don't know what else to tell you."

Both of them chuckle.

"Hey Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I know that this might be a lot to ask, but would you mind going upstairs to see what the state of everything is? I don't think that I can do it alone."

"Of course, Pippa. Anything for you. You were such a sweetheart to me when I first moved in."

"I just baked you a lasagna," Pippa blushes. "It really wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was just such a nice gesture. Nobody had ever really done anything that nice for me before."

"Wait, really?" Pippa asks.

"I came from sort of a... rough and tumble household as a kid. There wasn't much room for excess love. I didn't really know that people did nice things like that for each other just for the heck of it," Steven explains.

"I'm sorry," Pippa whispers, patting his back lightly.

"It's okay. I didn't know any other way. At the time, it seemed normal." Steven pauses. "Well, shall we head up?"

Pippa takes a deep breath. "I guess so."

They leave their mugs of tea on the kitchen counter, and head up the stairs to Pippa's apartment. After fumbling around in her purse to find her keys, Pippa opens the door.

Both of them are devastated at what they see. Right away, they're overwhelmed by the smell of mildew, and can't help but notice that the carpets are still squishing a bit under their feet. The furniture has been moved out, so it is just an empty room with a few shriveled up paintings on the walls.

Some of the carpet has been ripped up, and the wood underneath has been totally ruined.

"I'm so sorry, Pip," Steven breathes.

"Yeah, me too." After a moment, "It doesn't look like I'll be moving back in anytime soon."

"How much longer does your tour last?"

"Until early June."

"They can probably get it repaired before then," Steven tells her. "Don't worry. I'll make sure that they do."

"Even then, though, it won't be the same. I might as well move to a totally different apartment. It wouldn't make much difference."

"No, Pippa! You can't do that."

"Why not?" Pippa asks.

"If you moved, well, you wouldn't be my neighbor anymore, and that would make me very sad."

Pippa can feel her cheeks turning pink.

"At least you wouldn't have to deal with my 2 AM piano practices anymore."

"Actually, I quite enjoy those," Steven laughs. A silence falls between the two.

"Hey Pippa?" Steven asks, a moment later.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any plans on Christmas?"

Pippa shakes her head. "I thought that I was going to Jazzy's, but then her and Anthony got engaged and they want to spend Christmas alone, or something like that."

"Well, um, would you like to join me? I'm no cook, but I mean, we might be able to get a turkey cooked if we work together."

"Are you serious?" Pippa asks.

"Absolutely," Steven smiles. "I take it that's a yes?"

Pippa nods, smiling a toothy smile. She wants to hug Steven, but stops herself, and just mutters a gracious "Thank you."