Chapter 47

"We ended up at some restaurant in Steamhaven, outside the slums. I let her lead me there—didn't even think about where we were going. Honestly, the place wasn't important, so I won't bother with the name, but as soon as I sat down, all I could think was: What am I doing? I should have been patrolling. I should have been following orders. But Annie... Annie made that so impossibly hard."

The restaurant was comfortable, filled with the warm hum of conversations and the clatter of silverware. Workers from Ironhelm's factories and foundries crowded the tables, their faces flushed from long days and tired laughter. The scent of hearty meals hung in the air, but none of it was calming Pip's nerves.

Across the table, Annie sat, casually resting her chin on her hand, watching Pip with those unnervingly calm eyes. "What has you so worried, silly Pip?" she asked in that sing-song voice, the nickname dripping from her lips as though she knew it got under Pip's skin.

Pip glanced up, then quickly averted her gaze again, fidgeting with her hands on the table. "I—I shouldn't be here. I have to patrol the slums," she mumbled, her words awkwardly stumbling out, betraying her growing anxiety.

Annie sighed as if Pip's worry were a mild inconvenience. "You're being dull again." Her voice carried a hint of exasperation, but that ever-present smirk stayed on her lips. "I told you not to think about anything but me, didn't I?"

Pip blinked, confused. "N-no! No, you didn't!" Her sudden retort made a few heads turn as she pointed at Annie, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You told me not to focus on the guy you—" she faltered, lowering her voice, "the guy you disabled back there."

Annie tilted her head, her expression softening into mock surprise. "Oh? Is that so? Well, I'm telling you now." She leaned back in her chair, that infuriating smirk widening as her eyes gleamed with playful mischief. "Focus on me, and nothing else. Alright?"

Pip was about to respond when Annie added with a grin, "Including all the people currently staring at you."

Pip froze, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn't even noticed them—the other patrons, their curious gazes darting in her direction, whispers swirling around her. Her outburst had drawn more attention than she'd realized.

Face burning, Pip shrank in her seat, wishing she could disappear. She crossed her arms tightly, trying to hide the redness creeping up her neck. Annie, on the other hand, let out a soft, amused chuckle, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"See? Much better." Annie waved a hand dismissively. "Just relax, silly Pip. It's only dinner. You'll find it's much more enjoyable when you're not thinking about work... or anything else."

Pip's breath hitched, but she nodded, still feeling like every eye in the room was on her. Annie, on the other hand, leaned forward slightly, her tone light and teasing as she continued, effortlessly pulling the strings that kept Pip tethered to her every word.

A waiter soon arrived at their table, but Pip could hardly focus on him, let alone muster the desire to order anything. It wouldn't have mattered anyway—Annie took control, ordering for both of them without so much as a glance in Pip's direction, as if her preferences were irrelevant.

Once the waiter left, Annie leaned forward, her tone light but cutting. "So, silly Pip, why don't you tell me why you're so pathetic?"

Pip's head jerked up, her wide eyes meeting Annie's, disbelief plastered across her face. "Wha—what are you talking about?" Her voice was softer this time, mindful of the stares she'd already drawn from other patrons.

Annie gave a slow, casual shrug, waving her hand in a dismissive arc. "Well~ it's just that both times I've met you, you've been so, so... miserable. Stressed. Unable to follow through with anything you try to do." Her tone had an air of exaggerated sympathy as she emphasized each point, her eyes sharp and amused.

She paused, turning her gaze back to Pip with a faux tenderness that almost mimicked concern. "I just want to know why that is."

Pip dropped her gaze to the table, fingers nervously twisting together in her lap. "I-it's... related to work," she muttered, feeling an invisible leash tighten around her neck. "And you said not to focus on that."

Annie leaned back with a smug smile. "I'm giving you permission to talk about it now. So go ahead."

Pip swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "I—I don't want to work for him anymore. My boss. He... he started off good. He wanted to take down Copperhand, and at first, he was kind. He cared about people. But after we... after Copperhand was gone, he changed."

Her words came out haltingly, her voice trembling as the confession spilled from her. Talking about her feelings made her feel exposed, vulnerable, like she was unraveling in front of Annie.

Annie's expression didn't shift, but her eyes glinted with sudden interest. "Ah, so you were one of the people who killed Copperhand and his goons."

The accusation made Pip snap upright, her voice louder than intended. "No!" The word echoed across the restaurant, earning her more curious glances from nearby tables. Face burning with embarrassment, she quickly sank back into her chair, lowering her voice. "I-I mean, no. I never killed anyone. I just... helped beat them. That's all."

Annie chuckled softly, shaking her head with an amused smirk. "So you think that because you never personally stabbed Copperhand or his men, you didn't kill them?" she asked, leaning in closer, her words deliberate and cutting. "You just helped the people who did. And if your boss had never changed—if he kept on killing but stayed 'sweet' in your eyes—you'd still be fine with it, wouldn't you? Because you're not the one holding the knife. Is that what you're telling yourself?"

Pip couldn't meet her gaze, her hands trembling as she stared at the empty plate in front of her, too ashamed to speak.

Annie's voice dropped, low and mocking, her lips curling into a grin. "Oh, what a cowardly girl you are."

The words hit Pip like a slap. Her whole body shook, her breath catching in her throat. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Her mind scrambled for something, anything to say, to defend herself, but before she could even form a coherent thought, Annie cut her off.

"I'm not saying that's a bad thing," Annie added suddenly, her tone almost playful.

Pip blinked, looking up at her in disbelief. "Eh?"

Annie's smirk widened as she continued, her voice smooth and reassuring, but still laced with that cold, calculating edge. "I'm telling you, being cowardly isn't a bad thing. Self-preservation is a good thing. Taking care of yourself? That's smart. Because, trust me, if you keep putting others before yourself, one day it'll lead to your downfall."

Pip stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend what she was hearing.

"So," Annie continued, her voice light and almost cheerful now, "good job. You're a coward who takes care of herself. And if anything, you should be more cowardly. More greedy. Do things that benefit you, not other people. Like right now, for instance." She leaned back in her chair, gesturing to the table between them with a smug smile. "You're having dinner with me, aren't you?"

Pip sat there, speechless, her mind whirling. Annie's words felt like an elaborate trap—one that Pip couldn't escape from. She wanted to deny it, to argue, but the truth was... Annie had a point. And that realization only made the knots in her stomach tighten further.

Pip's hands trembled as they covered her face, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ju-just what are you?" she asked, her words muffled behind her hands.

Annie laughed lightly, the sound carefree. "Me? I'm a human being, just like you," she replied with a casual shrug, as if her actions and words weren't unraveling Pip's entire sense of reality. "Just a bit traumatized, is all."

There was a strange flippancy to how she said it, making it sound almost like a joke. Pip's chest tightened, tears beginning to sting her eyes. Her whole body was trembling now, a swirl of emotions bubbling up to the surface. "I-I don't understand you at all," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it. "Why am I here with you? Why are you here with me? None of this makes sense."

Annie exhaled slowly, like a parent amused by a child's tantrum, and leaned back in her chair with that same maddening smile. "Is there any reason you need to understand me?" she asked, her voice lilting as if she were talking about something as mundane as the weather. "Are you a scientist or an engineer? Is understanding people your job?"

Pip, face still buried in her hands, shook her head weakly.

"No. You're silly Pip," Annie continued, her voice as smooth as ever. "A coward and a thief, in way over her head, working for someone who doesn't care about her at all. So why bother understanding anything? Just keep being silly. Hang out with me. That way, neither of us has to be lonely."

The words cut deep, and Pip couldn't hold it in any longer. She sobbed into her hands, feeling both humiliated and comforted at once. She wasn't sure if Annie was mocking her or being genuine—or both. That was the problem. She couldn't tell. She didn't understand.

The words struck Pip deeper than she anticipated. There was something oddly comforting about Annie's disarming tone, the ease with which she spoke. It was as if her twisted logic wrapped around Pip like a warm blanket. Tears spilled over, and she found herself sobbing quietly into her hands, the confusion and absurdity of it all bubbling to the surface.

"I-I don't know whether to laugh or keep crying," Pip managed to choke out between sobs, her voice wavering but lightening with each word. "Just... please, stop saying things that don't make any sense!" She shook her head, a half-smile breaking through her tears as she felt the weight of Annie's gaze—playful and unwavering. "You're... you're really hurting my head."

Annie's laughter rang out, bright and infectious, and for a moment, Pip couldn't help but join in, the ridiculousness of the situation lightening her heart. Maybe it was okay to be confused, to embrace the absurdity in front of her. After all, in this chaotic moment with Annie, there was a flicker of something warm and hopeful amid the laughter.

But just as quickly as the lightness came, it vanished when Annie leaned in, still laughing. "Ha ha ha, your laugh's adorable... but you're still paying for dinner, silly Pip."

"Huh?" Pip's laughter halted abruptly, her stomach sinking as she looked down at the food now being set in front of them by the waiter. It was extravagant—far more luxurious than anything she could ever afford, especially as a thief scraping by. She froze, staring at the lavish dishes before them, she wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry, but it was clear which one she was going to be doing a lot of once this bill came.