This does contain spoilers for s4x02


Emily half believes that she'll wake up at any second and be able to roll over and curl into Naomi's arms. That she'll be able to bury her face in the blonde's neck and Naomi will stroke her hair and say that everything's okay, that it's just a nightmare, that she loves Emily. And then Naomi will kiss her and promise that everything will be okay. But it's not okay, and that won't happen.

She's never felt so betrayed in her life. Nothing Katie has ever done to her can amount to this. She's not even sure she has a heart anymore, just a big gaping whole in the middle of her chest, swallowing everything up. She was upset at first, didn't want to believe that Naomi would do that to her, then angry, fucking livid. She remembers something about the stages of depression or mourning or some other shit. She's pretty sure that apathy isn't anywhere in that list.

Katie's got a huge "I told you so" look on her face every time she looks at Emily, James doesn't give a fuck (she's pretty sure that he has no idea what's going on anyway) and their mother has this gloating smile on almost 24/7. Her father's the only person she feels she can connect with. Most of the time she's in her room, staring at the ceiling, ignoring Katie when she comes in, but whenever she leaves it for whatever reason and she runs into her father, he'll look at her and open up his arms. Sometimes they'll stand in the middle of the kitchen for what feels like hours before Emily finally pulls away and heads back to her room.

She feels like she's having some sort of out of body experience more often then not. Whenever she starts to cry, she feels like her spirit is floating above her looking down at her body and yelling "shut the fuck up, Fitch. Don't be pathetic. Don't cry. Don't let her win." But it doesn't stop the tears.

One night, when she woke up from a nightmare after tossing and turning for who knows how long, she dissolved into sobs. She wasn't sure if Katie had already been awake or not, but her twin had crawled into bed and stroked her hair. She didn't say anything, and for that Emily was grateful. Katie stayed in bed with her that night, one arm wrapped around her waist. Emily didn't dream anymore.

When she woke up in the morning, Katie was still there. It took some prodding before her twin woke up and gave her a squeeze before getting out of bed and going for a shower. Emily'd never been more grateful for her sister.

Sometimes, Emily wants to call Naomi. Just to hear her voice. The blonde tried after Emily went by to collect her things. She sent countless texts and rang more times than Emily cares to remember, but Emily never responded, and only answered once to tell Naomi to fuck off and stop phoning her. She still sends a text every now and then, and they always say the same thing: I love you, I'm sorry, I'll do anything, I miss you. Emily keeps her phone off most of the time now, can't stand to hear it constantly vibrating against her night stand.

-

She thinks, maybe, that she does have a heart and that it's just in millions of little pieces at the bottom of her rib cage. Because if she didn't, then it wouldn't hurt as much as it does. Naomi texts her again, but this time it's asking if Emily will meet her. She tells Katie, who bitches at her and tells her not to go. To that, Emily shrugs her shoulders, says that she has to and Katie doesn't argue, just looks at her like she's fucking pitiful and Emily feels it.

They meet at a pub. Emily sees Naomi sitting at the bar with a pint and the fragmented bits of her heart begin to quiver. She stands there, unable to move like her feet have been cemented to the ground until Naomi turns around and looks right into her eyes. She forces her body to listen, walks inside and sits next to the blonde. Close, but still far away. She fixes Naomi with a glare and sees the blonde shrink slightly.

"What d'you want, then?" she asks, forcing herself to be strong and not to just collapse into Naomi's arms and forgive her and tell her to just take her home. Naomi offers a small smile.

"Hi, Ems." Emily bites back a sigh, not in the mood for pleasantries. She asks again,

"What do you want, Naomi?"

"For you to come home." Emily bites her lip. She hadn't expected this. She'd expected a plea for forgiveness, excuses trying to be passed as explanations and justifications. The word "home" rings painfully in her ears. Is it home, really? A part of her says, yes, it is home. Anywhere Naomi is is home. The logical part of her says it's not. She knows she left a few things there, because she couldn't bear to take everything back, wanted to hope that things would work out and she'd be able to go back and pick up where she left off.

"Why should I?" she counters, frowning. Naomi shrugs and plays with her rings. She doesn't meet Emily's gaze.

"Because it's not the same without you there. It's not home without you." Emily's heart breaks just a little bit more. Be strong, Emily, she tells herself. Be strong. Be independent. You don't need her, you don't. But she does. She eyes Naomi coldly, hates what the blonde does to her. Finally, she nods very slightly, barely moving her head. Naomi smiles slightly, Emily doesn't return it.

"Is that it then?" She can tell Naomi wants her to stay, but the blonde nods.

"I've left your key under the mat." Emily hates how predicable her behaviour can be.

-

Naomi offers her the bed. She doesn't take it. Sets up her own little section by the kitchen instead. She doesn't really live there, just sleeps there, does her coursework whenever she's not out getting fucked up, which is less and less as time goes on. Surprisingly, she finds herself spending more and more time with Cook which usually entails spending time with Effy, which means that Freddie will be there and Emily can't stand to seem them so fucking lovey-dovey with each other and wonders how fucking Effy of all people can have a relationship and love life that's happier than her own. Her and Cook never stay long after the two of them show up.

He's a good friend, Emily concludes after a week of blowing off all her work for college and spending every night getting monumentally trashed. Yeah, he's a cunt most of the time, but he can listen remarkably well for someone in danger of flunking out of school, and he's a lot kinder and smarter than he lets on.

"People do really fucked up things when they're afraid," he tells her one night as they laugh and stumble their way back to Naomi's. Emily nods, too drunk to really process what he said (although she'll realize the truth of it in the morning). He's quiet when they practically fall through the front door, but she can't tell over her own giggles so she shushes him loudly and he grins at her. She falls asleep still dressed laying half on top of him with a blanket over her head.

Naomi is sat on the sofa staring at her when she wakes up and groggily pulls the blanket off of her head and twists out of Cook's arms. Her hair is in a ponytail (a look Emily decided looks amazing on her) and her legs pulled up under her body. She's sipping one cup of tea and resting the other on her knee. Emily stands, she smooths down her hair and takes the tea. She tries not to let their fingers touch, but they do anyway. She nearly drops her teacup.

"You look beautiful," Naomi says softly.

"I look well rough," Emily scoffs. Her voice cracks and nearly gives out. She knows her hair is a mess and that her make-up had run down her cheeks and smudged enough to make her look like a panda. She takes a sip of her tea. Ends up burning her throat.