So, this didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to, so I'm sorry if it seems preposterous but I'm very intrigued by the idea of Spencer/Emily.
This would take place anytime post 3x12, and for my sake this takes place in a universe where Paige and Emily never reconciled, simply because I can't do that to my poor Paige.
I don't own pll, any response would be highly appreciated
Give me love like her,
'Cause lately I've been waking up alone
Maybe tonight I'll call you,
After my blood turns into alcohol.
Can you come over? I need you. Please.
Those were the eight words that lit up Emily's phone on a particularly cold Friday night. And those were the only eight words she needed, before she was out of the door and rushing for her car.
The drive was short, and Emily was searching for the spare key among the Hastings' plant pots within ten minutes.
She let herself into the darkened house and called out for the other girl. I quite, distant response came from upstairs, and Emily rolled her eyes before making her way up the stairs, towards the Youngest Hastings' bedroom.
She opened the door and, it took one look at the empty bottles strewn haphazardly across the floor for Emily to know that Spencer was in a bad state. The stench of alcohol was thick in the air surrounding the other girl, who was lying on her back on her bed, arms and legs hanging carelessly off the sides.
"Spencer..."
"Em! I didn't think you'd come." Spencer's words slur together, her attempt to stand up only knocking over more bottles.
"You asked for me, Spencer. Of course I came."
Spencer does manage to sit up at this. She pushes herself up from the bed and slowly makes her way across the room to the other girl. She opens her mouth as if to say something, before deciding against it and closing it again,clearing her throat. She cocks her head to the side, looking at Emily in a way she never had before. It was a look of curiosity, almost like that of a bird of prey in the few moments before it executed its kill. Emily swallows, thickly at this analogy; Spencer certainly hadn't been herself lately, but it made Emily shudder to think of her in such a way. Spencer's eyes continued to roam Emily's face, searching for something.
"You know, I've always prided myself upon being able to read people. I can read my family and the other girls pretty well. I thought I could read...him. But you're the one person who I've always known I'll never fully understand."
Emily remained silent, not wanting to interrupt Spencer in her current state.
"I've been awful to you. All of you. But it's you who keeps coming back. Why?"
"We care about you, Spencer. You're out best fri-"
"No." Spencer cuts across, her eyes flashing with a sense of something that puts Emily on edge. "Why is it you who comes back?"
She starts to pace around her room, fists clenching and unclenching systematically. Emily stays rooted to the spot, too fearful to attempt to stop her friend.
"I'm the hardest on you. I think it's because I've always thought you were the toughest; that you'd be able to handle it. But I'm always giving you the most shit and you always come back, and I don't understand why." She's becoming more and more frantic and when Emily calls for her to calm down, she throws herself upon her bed, head in hands and deep breath rattling through her small frame.
Emily finally finds the motivation to move and rushes over to her side.
"Spencer. Spencer, please, stop this. You're working yourself up, you have to stop. Are you listening to me? I come back because I care about you. I will never give up you Spencer. Never."
She places her hands over the other girl's and holds them tight as Spencer's head snaps up, eyes quickly meeting Emily's. She's giving her the same look as before, only more wistful; more desperate. Before Emily can do anything to stop her, Spencer's hands have captured her cheeks, and their lips are pressed together. The smell of alcohol clouds her sense, and before Emily even has time to register what's happened, Spencer has nipped at Emily's bottom lips one, two, three times. With a final kiss, she pulls back, eyes with the realisation of her actions.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't..." Tears are threatening to spill and she's clutching the bed sheets tightly with whitened knuckles. Emily shakes herself from her reverie and carefully tries to remove the sheets from the other girl's grip.
"Don't apologise. I-I think I understand." Her voice is shaky, but she manages to get her words out without letting her emotions take over.
Spencer seems to freeze for a moment, before slowly turning her head back towards Emily. With each passing second, her face inches that much closer to Emily's, until their lips are mere centre metres apart. Spencer's breathing has refused to even out, and suddenly it's heavier than ever, the two girls' breath mingling together in the closeness of their bodies.
"This isn't a good idea." Emily tries to sound stern, but all that comes out is a breathy whisper; a mere shadow of her original intent.
"Please," is all Spencer says. And it's all Emily needs.
She leans forward, her lips capturing Spencer's rough, chapped ones in a soft kiss. This one is gentle in comparison to the other, as Emily tries to convey everything she's feeling into the action. She's the first to pull back this time as she rests their heads together.
Emily understands what it's like to lose someone. She understands all too well, and she would give anything for things to be different, but they're not. Most nights were filled with unadulterated grief, but she can't say that there weren't some nights where she lay alone in bed, wishing she had someone to lose herself in. To turn all of her heartbreak, sorrow, anger, all of it, into an act of passion. Just one night for her to forget, even if only temporarily, the pain that filled her body, heart and mind. She still feels this way sometimes, when the memories become too much for her to handle. So she knew that Spencer craved this release, but she still refused to do this at the expense of Spencer's wellbeing.
"Are you sure about this?" She asks.
"I don't know how to feel anymore."
The response is so small, and broken, that it makes Emily want to cry. Instead she brings her hand to rest against Spencer's coloured cheek and whispers:
"Let me show you."
And when Emily lays Spencer down on her bed and kisses her soundly, she knows that this is right. As clothes are discarded in the shards of pale moonlight that peek through the old white curtains, and their breathing becomes one, Emily knows that this is what Spencer needs. Her hands guide Spencer through the night, allowing her to find sanctuary in the movement of their bodies. And soon enough Spencer is gasping into the night (Emily's name has never sounded sweeter). And even then, after spending the hours lost in one another's embrace, mapping each other's skin, tasting the other's body; even then, Spencer spends the remaining hours in Emily's safe embrace. She doesn't know how they'll feel in the morning, but right now, she understands that this is exactly what Spencer needs, and the truth is: she would do anything for Spencer Hastings.
All I want is the taste that your lips allow
Oh, give me love.
