happy pride month to piggy. sorry that they call you the straight boy of the lotf group. god knows you’re not.. sorry they did that to you buddy. god knows you were in love with ralph . deeply sorry again piggy
It made sense that Sam'n'Eric shared a bed. They were practically the same person, after all.
Going by that logic, if you really think about it, it made perfect sense for Ralph and Piggy to share a bed, too. There were only two, so where else could either of them sleep?
They were hardly even beds, Ralph thought. More piles of leaves. So either way, it didn't count.
Ralph’s side was going numb, but he stopped himself from turning over, because that would mean he'd be facing Piggy, and that would make this entirely understandable predicament slightly less understandable.
Instead, he settled for laying on his back, even though he knew he'd never get to sleep like that. Although, truth to be told, he didn't have much chance of getting to sleep on his side either. Not with everything that'd happened.
He sighed and rubbed his face.
His brain presently had two topics available for thought, and neither were ones he wished to peruse. Ralph could either ponder what Jack was planning to do to them, now he'd taken control of most of the boys, or he could ponder why sleeping in the same “bed” as Piggy felt so different from how it felt with the boys at home.
Of course, there was another topic. One buried deep down in his subconscious. They'd left early.
Ralph decided thinking about Piggy was the lesser of two evils.
He could hear the fat boy snoring next to him, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound while he thought.
It certainly felt odd. To be so close to someone else. Previously he would've chalked it up to everything feeling odd on the island, but, buried in a similar place as the truth about the Feast, he knew it was something else.
Ralph began digging, careful not to disturb the other thoughts scattered around that odd feeling. His spade brushed against a thought that made him wince, but he adjusted his course and soldiered on.
The hole must've been twice Ralph's height by the time he reached what he was looking for. He imagined it was some sort of dusty chest, like the ones people find treasure in in books.
Ralph opened his eyes. This metaphor was getting away from him.
The simple fact of the matter was that everything about Piggy was different to Ralph. His accent, his appearance, his personality, his role in their microcosmic society. The way he made Ralph feel.
Ralph swallowed. In his mental version of this train of thought, analogy Ralph was holding the key in his hands.
He supposed he ought to think about this logically, Piggy was right about life being scientific, after all.
So. How exactly was looking at Piggy different than looking at, say… Arthur from back home? Or Michael, or Adam, or Richard, or, or… Or, anyone really.
Well, when he looked at Piggy he felt as if there was a gaping black pit in his stomach. A chasm of an indescribable emotion that threatened to eat him whole. It was brilliant.
Piggy, for all his mundaneness and monotony, was frightfully interesting and captivating.
He nattered near constantly about things Ralph couldn't care less about, but for some reason, the simple fact it was Piggy talking forced Ralph to pay attention.
Piggy, for all his faults and flaws, was perfect.
The chest was opening. Ralph almost jumped out of bed. His analogical self hadn't even inserted the key, but the chest was rattling in front of him, sides expanding outwards, threatening to burst. His breathing became ragged. No, this wasn't right, he wasn't ready, he couldn't-
Suddenly the chest was gone. Everything was gone. His entire body was numb. His entire body, that is, except for his left hand.
He looked to his left. Piggy was holding his hand.
He cocked his head as best as he could whilst lying down. Piggy looked at him neutrally and then down at their clasped hands. Ralph looked down at them too.
He rubbed his thumb over the back of Piggy's hand, and the other boy smiled at him.
He knew it wasn't proper, really, but compared to the other things that had taken place on this island, two boys holding hands didn't seem like the most pressing issue.
Ralph closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Piggy's hand, a slight smile on his face. Analogy Ralph pocketed the key. Next time.
30/9/24
Note:
Oh my god I enjoyed writing this so much. Piggy is my favourite character, so I don't know why I keep writing from Ralph's perspective, but it just keeps happening. Also don't question that whole running metaphor. And also how I established Ralph doesn't know what a metaphor is in the last fic. It's fine, Piggy taught him. (Also sorry for the complete lack of dialogue lmaooooo - I never really intended to post these and honestly barely realised)
the way my lotf copy is perpetually a little open to that one bit in Beast from Water because of how often i stare at the words “thats right—favor piggy as you always do—” 😭
