Gemma leans against the brown countertop, waiting for the barista to finish her drink. It's a miserable winter's day and she knew the only way she would be able to make it through her classes without falling asleep was to make a quick pit stop at the closest Starbucks and get a Grande dark roast, black.
"Gemma," the blonde barista calls out as she slides the paper cup over the countertop. Gemma smiles and nods her thanks and grabs the warm cup. The warmth is nice on her icy hands. She begins walking outside and braces herself for the cold air, pressing her arms tightly to her side. She has six minutes to run back to the campus and make it to her first class. Could she do it? Of course she can. She's made it in less time. She begins scurrying down the sidewalk, trying her best to ignore the cold air. Suddenly she feels her phone start vibrating in her pocket. She debates letting it go to voicemail, but she also know if it's her mother than she'll have a panic attack and assume Gemma is dead and probably call the police. So she lets go of the warm cup and pulls out her phone and answers it without bothering to look at the number.
"Ello?" she mumbles because her lips are starting to chatter from the cold.
"Hi, love. Sorry I haven't called for a while, I had to go away for a job. Are you free tonight?" the voice on the other end asks.
"Oh… Um, hi. Well I have some papers to write and stuff-"
"When are they do?" he interrupted. She could hear the screech of a car horn, then the man on the other end of the phone mumbles a curse word.
"Well not for a few days… I can probably spare tonight." She admits.
She hears the man chuckle before answering. "Good. I can pick you up around 4, your classes are over then right?" he asks.
"Yes, I didn't think you could remember though." she says with a surprised expression on her face, which the man can't see but he knows it's there.
"I have a fantastic memory, darling. I'll be there at 4. Be ready." He says and then the line goes dead.
Gemma slips the phone back into her pocket and quickens her pace. She did not expect to hear from him. She didn't hear from him for almost two months. The last time they had seen each other, it was one night of cheap Chinese takeout, a quarter of a Halloween movie then sex and he was gone by the time she woke up. All that she had left from him was a small text that read:
"Sorry, had to go. Work. I'll call you soon."
And that was the last time she had heard from him. She has no idea what he does for work, she only asked once but he never gave her an answer and quickly changed the subject. She has to remind herself constantly that this thing was nothing more than a friends with benefits, but sometimes she can't help but wish it wasn't just an occasional night together whenever he was in town. She's tried to start relationships with other guys, but no matter what she does she can't shake the Englishman and the relationships always crumble miserably.
She finally reaches her destination with two minutes to spare. She quickly scurries through the warm hallways and reaches her classroom just as the professor is about to begin the lecture. She knows she won't be able to focus on the lecture today though, because she'll be waiting until four o'clock rolls around.
She looks at herself in the cracked bathroom mirror. She debates putting on makeup or trying to make herself look more presentable but then decides against it. She has to admit she looks mildly terrifying, with dark shadows under her eyes and chapped lips and slightly greasy hair. He's seen her at literally her worst so he will just have to deal with it. The tiny basement apartment which she lives in smells like mildew and sawdust, so she decides to douse herself with a cheap coconut body spray so she won't smell like her apartment. She hears a knock on the door, much to her surprise. She doubts it's him because he said he would pick her up. However, it may be her landlord so she quickly hurries to answer it. When she finally wrenches the door open, because the lock can stick occasionally, the sight that greets her is a pleasant surprise. It's definitely not her landlord, it's the Englishmen she's been waiting for.
"Hey, Gem." He says quietly, with that same cocky smile on his face that he usually wears.
"Hello, Eames." She responds.
He looks the same. Short hair, a bit of scruff littering his chin and dressed in a patterned button down shirt and grey pants with a tattered black jacket that he must have owned for years. He was wearing that when they met for the first time last year.
"I thought you were going to pick me up?" she asks as she stood aside so he could step in. He's far taller than she is and soon she finds herself standing quite lose to him due to the small porch.
"I couldn't wait," he mumbles. His jacket is off and a moment later she feels hands on her hips and his lips are now pressed to hers. He was always eager to do that. She stands on her tip toes so she can wrap her arms around his neck. He smells spicy, because of the strong French cologne he wears. She's missed the smell. When he finally breaks the kiss, she leans down and presses her head against his chest.
"Will you be staying tonight or are you going to disappear again?" she asks. Her voice is muffled but he still understands what she's asking.
"I won't. Not tonight. I promise, Gem." He says and gently kisses the top of her head. She then takes his hand and leads him to her small bedroom.
This is just a thing they did. They both know it's a bad idea. Gemma is only a twenty year old University student and Eames is nearly double her age with a dangerous job. He thought it would only be a one night stand when he first met her, but there was something about her that kept him coming back for more. His life is so hectic because of his work that he craves some sort of distraction from it and he found it with her. And she craves some sort of love because that was something she's never had.
It was a bad idea. But it was also so irresistible.
Eames rips off her shirt and flings it across the room. He pushes away the doubt from his mind and she forgets her worries.
They can regret this tomorrow.