Work Text:
The last grasshopper of the summer chirps in the patchy grass, its head turned towards the sun’s last stubborn farewell in the southeast. The air is thick with unspoken words and the final hurried goodbyes of campers headed home towards the incoming year of school, and only a few counselors remain. Two camping chairs rest by the empty campfire, its flames doused with a bucket of Dr Pepper, and two weary counselors sit and stare into the trees and sky, their bodies slumped against the chairs’ metal frames.
The chair creaks as Marisol shifts her position, leaning towards Salem as they slump into the stiff fabric. The exhaustion and hecticity of the summer at its end, the camp cleared of lost belongings and forgotten items, they have nothing left to do but sit and pretend the next sunrise does not bring their inevitable separation with the dawn chorus. For once, the night sky is completely black.
Salem swirls the water in her cup forlornly, all too aware of the night’s incremental passing. Words catch in her throat, nothing sticking but useless musings.
‘I’m glad this is over. This summer’s been… hard.’ A meaningless statement, she knows, but Marisol still sighs and smiles quietly.
‘Yeah. I’m glad you’ve been here with me though,’ Marisol responds, reaching between their chairs to stroke Salem’s hand.
‘I’m sorry if I made things worse. With the elephant man, and just everything… I’m sorry if I seemed pissed at you. I wasn’t.’ Marisol’s fingers brush over Salem’s, and the silence in that moment speaks more of an acceptance of apology than any words could.
‘You didn’t seem angry with me. Yeah, you seemed stressed but we all were. Besides, we never even ended up arguing because we took it to Jedidiah, didn’t we.’ They both laugh, the memories of their absurdly anticlimatic mediation session still fresh in their minds.
‘Thanks. I love you, you know?’ Salem grips Marisol’s hand in her own, and moves her chair closer.
‘I love you too.’
The last embers of the campfire flail in the ash, sparks of scarlet and amber flickering in syncopation with the stars above, the constellations reflected in the subdued remains of the summer. Awkwardly, Salem leans over the edge of her chair and rests her head against Marisol, hair against her soft jumper.
‘Marisol?’
‘Hm?’ Salem pauses, and she laughs shakily, leaning further into Marisol.
‘Come live with me. Come home with me tomorrow, we could do that, right?’ Marisol’s eyes widen, and she bites her lip distractedly, staring into the once-fire with a wistful smile.
‘I could just come with you? Leave it all behind?’
‘Why not? Why do we have to be apart for so long? This- this camp is the only time we can see each other, and there’s always something awful happening. Why can’t we be together for the normal part of the year?’
‘Let’s do that. Us two, living together.’ Neither of them dared to ask if the other was sincere, neither of them went further than this wistful speculation betraying their longing.
Salem twists around until her face is inches away from Marisol’s, each of their eyes holding the previous weeks’ hardships. When they kiss, slow and weary as they lean into one another, it’s a thing of relief and simple, unfiltered and undistracted affection. No longer do they have to worry for the safety of the campers, no longer does the threat of a masked man run through the camp like toxic honey. Until tomorrow, where the first ray of sun breaks onto the bed that they will inevitably share, they sit alone and with each other, and hope that their embrace will be enough to carry their memory into next summer.