The silence was unbearable.
As Riza and I walked down the brightly lit corridor, our interlocked hands a constant, undeniable reminder of the kiss in the lift, my mind was spinning like an out-of-control gyroscope. My thoughts bounced between panic and excitement, my brain frantically searching for something—anything—to break the tension.
Say something, idiot. Anything. A joke? A compliment? No, that's weird. Ask her about the movie? No, that's dumb—
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She still wasn't looking at me, her free hand clutching the strap of her bag like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her face was still tinged with pink, and the sight only made my own cheeks burn hotter.
The Sundae Shop came into view, its neon sign glowing softly with a cheerful depiction of a towering ice cream sundae topped with cherries and sprinkles. It was like walking into a whimsical holo-advertisement.
We approached the counter, still in silence, and glanced at the menu. I forced myself to focus on the words, hoping they might offer some kind of distraction.
"What can I get for you two?" the cashier asked, their tone far too bright for my frazzled state.
"Uh… I'll take the Triple Fudge Bliss Sundae," I said, pointing to the picture of a massive chocolate monstrosity topped with whipped cream, fudge sauce, chocolate shavings, and a cherry.
Riza didn't hesitate. "The Strawberry Shortcake Dream Sundae," she said softly, her voice almost too quiet to hear. Her order was a towering masterpiece of strawberry ice cream layered with chunks of shortcake, fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and a drizzle of strawberry sauce.
The cashier rang us up, and I handed over my payment without thinking. I muttered a quick "Thanks" as they handed us a table marker, and we made our way to a small booth by the window.
Riza slid into the seat across from me, her eyes glued to the table as she placed her bag beside her. I followed suit, sitting down with my hands resting awkwardly on the edge of the table. The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating, punctuated only by the faint hum of the shop's air conditioning and the clink of utensils from other tables.
I wracked my brain for something to say, my thoughts louder than the background noise.
Talk about the sundaes. Ask her if she's excited. No, that's stupid. Compliment her? No, no, no—
My hands fidgeted against the table, fingers drumming lightly. Riza glanced up briefly at the sound, then quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing again. The tension between us felt like a physical weight pressing down, and I had no idea how to lift it.
Our sundaes arrived, the bright, colorful creations set down before us with an enthusiastic "Enjoy!" from the server. Riza murmured a quiet "Thanks" and picked up her spoon, her movements hesitant. I followed her lead, scooping up a bite of chocolate-laden ice cream and popping it into my mouth.
The silence persisted.
The sundaes were fantastic—rich, sweet, and clearly made with care—but I barely tasted mine. My thoughts were too loud, battling for dominance as I tried to figure out what to do.
Was the kiss okay? Is she upset? Why isn't she saying anything? Should I apologize? No, that might make it worse. Just say something—anything!
I looked up from my sundae to find her stealing a glance at me, her expression a mix of nervousness and… something else I couldn't quite place. Our eyes met for a brief, electric moment before she quickly looked back down, her spoon stabbing at a strawberry.
I sighed internally, frustration building as I fought against the wall of awkwardness between us. My mind churned, desperate for a solution, but the words stayed stuck in my throat. The silence dragged on, punctuated only by the clink of our spoons against the glass bowls.
Come on, Pepper. Do something.
But as much as I wanted to break the silence, my body refused to cooperate. So, I took another bite of my sundae, the sweetness doing nothing to drown out the chaos in my head.
The spoon in my hand felt like it weighed a ton as I fumbled with my thoughts, my mind spinning like a malfunctioning nav system. The silence between Riza and me stretched on, unbearably heavy, and every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. My sundae, once a towering masterpiece of chocolate indulgence, was now a sad puddle of melted fudge and whipped cream.
Say something. Anything. For the love of all things holy, break the silence!
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out before I could second-guess myself. "Great weather tonight, huh?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to crawl under the table and die. My brain screamed at me. Weather? Weather?! We're on a starship in the middle of the Milky Way, Pepper, you absolute idiot!
Across the table, Riza looked up at me, her spoon halfway to her mouth. Her eyes blinked slowly, and for a second, I thought she might actually laugh. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her expression distant. "Yeah… great weather," she said softly, her voice barely audible.
I couldn't tell if she was humoring me or if she was just as out of it as I was. Either way, her simple response made my embarrassment somehow even worse. I forced a weak chuckle, retreating back to the safety of my half-melted sundae, and she did the same.
The minutes ticked by, each one more agonizing than the last. The shop around us remained lively, with other patrons chatting and laughing, but at our table, the silence was deafening. Every clink of her spoon against the glass, every small sigh, felt magnified a hundredfold.
My thoughts churned relentlessly. Why did I say that? Should I try again? Maybe a joke? No, jokes are risky. What if she's upset? She doesn't look upset, but what if she is? Oh god, what if this ruins everything?
I glanced at her again. She was staring at her sundae, her lips pressed into a thin line as she pushed a piece of shortcake around with her spoon. Her usual energy, her spark—it was like it had been dimmed, and I hated that I might've been the reason.
Eventually, the sundaes were gone, reduced to sticky remnants of their former glory. I put my spoon down with a quiet clink, and Riza followed suit. Neither of us said anything as we stood up, grabbing our things and heading for the exit.
The corridor outside the shop was quiet, the ambient hum of the ship's systems filling the void left by our silence. I checked my watch—it was well past 3 AM. My body ached from the tension of the night, but my mind was far worse off.
Riza adjusted the strap of her bag, glancing at me briefly before looking away. "We should probably call it a night," she said, her voice soft but steady.
"Yeah," I replied, stuffing my hands into my pockets as we began walking back. The silence between us now felt less tense, more resigned, like we'd both accepted the awkwardness and were simply riding it out.
I wanted to say something—anything—to make things better. But as we walked side by side through the quiet corridors, I couldn't find the words. All I could do was hope that tomorrow would bring clarity, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to start fresh.
The quiet hum of the ship filled the space between us as Riza and I walked side by side through the corridors, heading back to my room to grab all the things she'd bought during our shopping spree earlier in the day. The weight of everything that had happened tonight still lingered, hanging over us like a dense fog.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She looked… distant, her gaze fixed forward, her lips pressed into a thin line. She'd been quiet since the sundae shop, and I couldn't tell if it was because she was as rattled as I was or because she just wanted the night to end. Either way, the silence between us felt heavy, suffocating.
My thoughts churned relentlessly, every self-doubt and second-guessing moment hitting me like a wave. You blew it. You had your chance, and you messed it up. I clenched my fists in my pockets, my jaw tightening. Why can't you just say what you feel? Why is this so damn hard?
Then Lydia's voice echoed in my mind, clear and sharp: "Women love a bold and aggressive man."
My steps faltered for a moment, and I bit the inside of my cheek, my frustration boiling over. Bold. Aggressive. Right. What does that even mean?
But as we turned the final corner toward my room, something clicked. A fire lit in my chest, burning away the doubt and hesitation. Screw it. Screw overthinking. Screw the second-guessing. I'm done.
I glanced at Riza again. She was still lost in her own world, her fingers absently adjusting the strap of her bag. My resolve hardened.
"Fuck it," I thought, the words echoing assertively in my mind. When we get back to the room, I'm doing it. No more hesitation. No more waiting. I'm taking a page from Lydia's book.
The thought sent adrenaline surging through me, and my heart pounded in anticipation. The nerves were still there, but they were drowned out by sheer determination. When we get back to the room, I'm gonna do it.
The door to my quarters came into view, the familiar keypad glowing softly in the dim corridor. Riza stepped slightly ahead of me, her posture still subdued, as she reached for the panel.
My fingers twitched at my sides, my resolve unshaken. This is it. No turning back now.