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“Oh my Grimm, you’re in love with her.”
It takes Apple a moment to register the dry response to her honestly innocent question. A question she hasn’t even directed to Briar in the first place. A question she has chosen to ask in the privacy of her dorm room–
“Briar?” Apple turns, looking to her window. Briar climbs in a minute later, wearing a helmet and climbing gear, all in bright pink, all bedazzled, overall obnoxious. “What are you even–how did you–”
“No deets, and no need to explain yourself, I heard everything,” Briar says, taking off her helmet and tossing her hair. “You’re in love with her. Raven, I mean.”
Apple likes to think that she handles that incorrect observation with grace; spluttering and waving her arms in limp circles is graceful in every situation, clearly.
“Oh, don’t even,” Briar says, a hand held up in warning. “When you go around asking your magic mirror,” her voice rises in mockery of Apple’s voice, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall? Why does my heart quiver so when I see Raven in the halls?’ It’s, like, duh, girl! You’re in love!”
“That is–ridiculous,” Apple says, sharply, “and totally incorrect! I don’t even get–why would–I’ve never been in love with anyone, ever.”
Briar arches a brow. “If you think relying on your encyclopedic knowledge of Parks and Hexreation will save you from facing this, Apple, you are wrong.”
“I’m not in love with Raven!” Apple covers her warming cheeks. “I’m not!”
“You are,” the Evil Queen says from behind her, her voice catching and echoing through the glass of the mirror. When Apple spins around to gape at the wicked woman lounging in a plush recliner within the confines of her mirror, the Evil Queen gives her a little wave. “Good afternoon, Applecheeks. You know, I’m actually relieved that it’s you and not that skittery little Charming boy. He’s just a little too nice. You, though, have a Red Delicious streak of evil in you. I approve.”
“Not enough reason to use the adjective delicious,” Briar says.
“Oh man, is that EQ,” Faybelle asks as she ducks her head in, hanging upside down from the window. “Charm my wings off, it is! Ha! Karma’s a witch, ain’t it?! Suck it!”
“What is she doing here?” Apple points to the dark fairy hanging from her window.
“I needed a spotter,” Briar says, shrugging. “She can fly, plus, she’s like, cheerhexing shredded, or something. She could lift me and Raven into the air like twice over.”
“Raven’s here?!”
Raven shyly peeks her head over the sill, waving shyly. The shadows of her helmet hide the light in her eyes, but not the delicate blush of her cheeks. With her fair skin, Apple is forced to admit that her roommate is utterly adorable.
“This was Briar’s idea?” Raven winces. “Apple, listen, I just want to talk about–about us, maybe, if you’re in love with me then I’m–”
“We’re not having this conversation with your mother and Faybelle in the room!” Apple grabs her purse. “Bye!”
“Appl–”
“Bye!!!”
Apple runs. Faybelle, Briar, and the Evil Queen share the same sigh.
“We’ll get her next time, Rae,” Briar soothes, patting Raven on the shoulder as the witch climbs into her room. “If we have to chase her down and we gotta Kiss The Girl it, then we will. So help me Grimm, Apple White, you are gonna get a girlfriend if it’s the last thing I do!”