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A sideways glance caught the ruffle of his hair, blue eyes shifting over the darker strands before she shifted forward. It was just a little motion, but once his hand dropped one of her's reached up to right a little curl of hair that had stuck up. Her cheeks warmed but Abbi gave his hair one last little touch before she darted back to her former, detached spot. The hand that had touched him curled against her mouth for a moment before she went still to listen to his words.
Was That Other Abbi similar? All this time the girl had thought them vastly different, had even made a list as to why they were nothing alike. That one had been all the things she wished she were, she'd even been enough for someone else to adopt and create a family for. That Abbi had a cute nickname and had dated and wasn't afraid of anything or anyone... But this one...
This one was sitting with a careful distance between the guy she really liked, who she had considered out of her league and was prepared to mourn his rejection, always scared of the inevitable end...

"Do you really think that'd fix it?" She asked, honestly curious and not at all meaning anything else by it. "You talked less there." Abbi added with a quick look up at him and then down at her hands in her lap. "Other Abbi was always really excited when you talked... Especially when you tried to talk a lot... It was really special to her..." Now she was the one word vomiting, not sure what else to say. She didn't want to admit that she was too scared of herself to believe in herself. If she tried that, she might discover she was so sure she would be alone forever that she would actively drive people away. Maybe she was doing that now with the distance she had put between them, but that was also part of a shield. It was a head start out the door for what she knew was coming.
"Sorry I guess I... I don't know."

Every so often, carefully placed between deep breaths because it was impossible to look at him and intake air at the same time, Abbi chanced a peek at Ripley. The face he wore was unreadable, something like a smile but lacking the true warmth he could really have. Unsure what to do the teen dropped her eyes, wishing she hadn't intentionally forgotten her contacts today so she could claim maybe this wasn't special, maybe this wasn't worth being honest for. But it was and she ached and felt trapped, confused and concerned by the quietness of Viveca in her mind.
"You do?" Of course he did, he wouldn't have said it if he didn't. The girl scrunched her nose in a fit of frustration and stared down at her hands some more, try to pick apart the two words he had said as though they were much more than just a couple of simple syllables. It was just a small phrase, but she wanted more and to be more and to be what he wanted.
Increasingly torn up and confused, she frowned harder at her hands, finding a constellation of freckles against the curve of one thumb and wishing she could scrub them away simply for something to do.
"But he was normal... We were all normal... Even me..." She mumbled in a voice harsher than she meant. The opposing thumb had found the freckles and had begun a viscous press of skin to excess melanin, hoping that would be enough to distract her.

But a leather warmth slips between the friction, making her gasp softly and become confused. Sharply, she turns to him and blinks blue eyes in his direction, lifting eyebrows as she looks at him without any hesitation or masks. "I-I--" She begins, darting her gaze between his face and the hand that is wrapped around her own. The hand he hasn't captured flutters into the air for a moment before it zooms down to grasp his, a desperate cling she hates because she is so needy.
"You! M-me! I-I'm scared of... Of you saying 'no' or of me... Of me accepting that and thinking its ok b-because... Because that's how things should be..." She draws in a deep breath and puts her eyes forcibly downward so she can't look at him. "I'm scared... Of... Everything." He can't understand that, can he? Not someone who's learned to ask questions or create conversations... Not when she's still so unsure of everything and afraid of being stunted in a place that wants only her tears and none of her dedication.

Run.
It was the only option left and her knees clenched in preparation to do so, but she was stopped by a very forceful { NO } that was sharp enough to stop her. It rang through her head and made her flinch and widen her eyes all at once, surely looking a fool.
{ Ye stay right here and ye hear what he has to say! You don't go moonin' over somebody and only accept the parts ye want! }
Sound advice, all in all, but it was so scary.

Blue eyes cautiously snuck a glance at the man who held in her place, who offered her two routes: Accept the advice and find herself heart broken (why else would he preface his words with caution if they weren't at least partly meant for her, meant to apply to them?), or flee?
This wasn't a game though, she couldn't leave and go back to a past save point, level up some more and tackle this again.
{ Yer bein' a baby! }
The word felt odd in her head, it felt confused and hesitant and Abbi realized that Viveca was trying. That she was hoping to help.

The hand that held Ripley's tightened and the teen took a deep breath. Running wasn't an option, but neither was looking at him for more than two seconds. She flashed him a determined look before she looked back to the safety of their joined hands.
"I-I understand... Go... Go ahead."

If you run they can't catch you. They can't hurt you.
Finding air suddenly vacant in her lungs, the teen sat there and put her energy to just drawing in what she could, concentrating her gaze on the glove that was wrapped around her own pale hands. A freckle peeked out here and there underneath the leather that covered her skin, a familiar sight since she had looked at them so much before they had been gifted, only now they were heavy with a hand in them, heavy with meaning. But his words were contrary to what she expected, though she had figured part of them would surface eventually.
Being told 'no' was the end, it was the ultimate cessation of anything. His analogy worked, but Abbi also knew what he meant. In a world where she had a multitude of friends, one rejection was fine. But this wasn't that other world where she'd grown up with these people, this was the world where she had a tenuous grasp on others, a world where this was the first real occasion she'd made honest friends. And they could, at any moment, not be as loyal as she wished they would be, as loyal as she would be in any circumstance. Everyone had someone else that came first: Stormy had Nevada, even if the two of them had been there when Abbi woke up, she still was not first. Finn and Jack had each other, and Ripley in the case they couldn't turn to their fellow grumpy pants friend. Miss Cass had her husband, had put years into their time together and could count on her entire division before she could take a chance on a green teen. Even in that other world Abbi could count on Ceres, but they hadn't put in the missions and the learning together and she knew Leslie would trip her up if worse came to worse. If all of them said no, there was no one else.
If Ripley said no, which he was saying now, there was nothing but Abbi.

Wetness clouded her vision, made her glad she had neglected to put in her contacts and forced her gaze and her head further down.
He was her type, he was exactly what she always wanted. In all the games she'd played, it was always the serious one she'd given the most gifts to and spent the most time with, it had always been him and he was saying no in the kindest way possible.
Steel clutched at her heart, did nothing to slow its frantic beating, but made it hurt more as it tried to pump past the silver, cold edge.
Worst of all, a moment of hope found her and made her think maybe this wasn't all so bad. Someone had paid attention to her? Someone special, someone who cared for her and had pulled her up when she was tired and hurt and risked their own injuries for her admitted to watching her?
But once again a dreadful 'no' burnt away the little reserve she had managed to scrabble together. And now the heartbreak he warned of loomed over her, welcomed her into its chill embrace.

"I... I think s-so..." Abbi began softly, not lifting her gaze. The ghost in her head had gone silent, sullen and shrunken in a corner of the girl's skull, curled up and frustrated, angry and jealous that she could offer nothing else but words. And Abbi had had enough of talking for one day.
"I've... I've had my heart broken lots of times... It never really healed once..." She took a breath and bit her lip for a moment, hating to say it. "It didn't heal when my mom died and it hasn't healed since. But it keeps breaking. I thought... Maybe it would just reform but... But I think that's being grotesquely optimistic." A pout formed on her mouth, not one to express her distaste but to keep herself from breaking down with the sobs that were building in her chest.
"I really like daises though... S-so... Maybe one day... Maybe one day I can make things... Go all daises and forget-me-nots and... An-and stuff." A smile broke her pout as best it could.

"Thank you for... Um... Everything." She said it gently, genuinely. She wasn't everyone else, she was small and weak and scared and rejected. She was unworthy.
Carefully, so as not to seem too hasty or bitter, she removed her hand from the hold he had on hers. Quick as she could, Abbi moved up to her knees and gave into one moment of weakness: She moved forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
"I hope you like your presents. Merry Christmas and um... Happy Birthday, Ripley." She smiled gently, tried not to burst into sobs and moved back to her feet. If she looked at him too long, she would cry and so far she had done so well not to be a cry baby on this terrible island of horrors.
There was no waiting, no need to let him escort her out before she turned and bolted out the door.