Author's Note: This is a fic that takes place in the future with a teenage Josslyn and Emma. Josslyn's face claim is Maddie Hasson from Twisted and Emma's is Shelley Hening, most recently seen on The Secret Circle two years ago.
~*~juliet, take me somewhere we can be alone~*~
(i'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run)
pairing: josslyn jacks/emma scorpio-drake
Josslyn doesn't care that she might fall and break her arm as she sneaks out of her bedroom window. A broken arm won't hurt nearly as much as her Mom chopping up her body into tiny little pieces because she caught her sneaking out. And, seriously, she does not want to have – for the 80,000 time – the "emma scorpio-drake, really" conversation.
Most parents would freak out – even in today's society – that their daughter was a lesbian, but she couldn't be that lucky.
No... The girl she had to fall for just happened to be the daughter of her Mom's mortal enemy.
Because, seriously, wasn't that supposed to be Michael and Morgan's thing? Falling in love with the enemy and whatever? Their Dad – her Uncle Sonny – was a freaking mobster! But her Mom owned a hotel and her Dad – not that she could even call him that, she barely saw him twice a year, if she was lucky – was a businessman. So how either of them could have an enemy, she didn't understand.
But after revealing – in hushed tones, cheeks flushing bright and worrying her lip between her teeth – how she felt for this "really pretty, like, really pretty super-smart – seriously, mom, she's like a genius or something, i swear" girl in her chemistry class, Josslyn knew it wasn't the fact that she was into girls – or a girl, to be more specific – that made her Mom blow a gasket.
No, she reacted stunningly well to that. Then she told her the chemistry girl's name, and that's when all hell broke loose. It got so bad, she had to call Michael to come over and calm her down.
She doubted it was any better for Emma.
Just thinking of the taller, willowy brunette made Josslyn's veins buzz. Slipping the maroon slouchy beanie over her riot of platinum curls, she pulled her worn leather jacket tighter to her body, the cool night air hitting her full force as she took off in the direction of Emma's house.
Pushing the thick black frames of her glasses further up her nose, Emma sighed heavily as she pushed her chemistry book away. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, twisting the flesh, as her mind drifted away from the periodic table and protons and electrons to a riot of blonde curls, crystal blue eyes and a perfectly rounded face.
Flopping back against the mountain of pillows on her bed, she reached for her worn copy of John Green's A Fault In Our Stars just as there was a knock on her door.
She wanted to yell that she was studying naked and not to come in, but she couldn't. She knew her Mom was on the other side, ready to apologize about the fight they had at dinner. It was the same fight they always seemed to be having lately.
The one about Josslyn.
If only it was about her sexuality. That she would be able to handle rationally and citing sources of material and data from studies, proving that she couldn't control who her body responded to biologically. That it was just the cold, hard truth – proven by science – that she preferred the curves of women – girls, whatever – to the straight lines of men or boys.
But Josslyn wasn't quantifiable with data and studies and sources from books.
And she never would be. She would always be how her heart beat faster, how her palms became sweaty, her legs going weak from a bright smile and her stomach dropping from just a glimpse of her pale skin when she'd raise her hand in class, her shirt riding up just so [no doubt on purpose].
Her Mom would never understand that. Not because she hadn't experienced it herself, but because all she saw when she saw Josslyn was Josslyn's mother. She believed [knew] that Josslyn would hurt her, tear her to pieces, and move onto the next girl [or boy] without a second thought.
Instead of lying [she couldn't bring herself to, even if it was just an exaggeration, really], she just ignored the persistent knocking, absorbing herself in her book. She finally put it down when she heard her Mom's footsteps shuffle away along the hardwood floors.
Emma crawled onto the floor, lifting up the skirt of her bed and softly smiled at the sight of the off-the shoulder Yankees sweatshirt that was curled into a ball. She hoped – not in a weird way – that the cotton fabric still smelled like her; raspberries [her lipgloss] and vanilla [her shampoo].
Her cheeks flushed bright, her whole body – from the roots of her glossy toffee colored hair to the tips of her pink polished toes – grew [instantly] warm as she remembered taking the sweatshirt off of the blonde. Her skin was so soft and smooth, without even the slightest hint at a blemish or freckle, which made her jealous until Joss had whispered against the skin of her collarbone, "I like your freckles, Ems."
Her brain was slipping under a thick fog of lust, something only Josslyn Jacks could inspire within her, and she couldn't help but bring the sweatshirt to her nose and inhaling.
/she's so high... high above me, she's so lovely/she's so high... like cleopatra, joan of arc or aphrodite/
Dropping the sweatshirt, Emma scrambled on top of her bed, fumbling for her phone. It was so corny but Tal Bachman's "She's So High" was her ringtone for Joss. Well, it alternated between "She's So High" and "She's Got You High" by Mumm-Ra.
Another memory struck her; the small blonde dancing, with abandon, to the classic 90's tune at Kelly's where she worked as a waitress. She still remembers how she had popped her gum, after blowing an enormous bubble, and saying cheekily, "This is supposed to teach me responsibility or something. I don't even think my Mom knows why she had Shawn give me a waitressing job. At least the customers are cute, though."
Her cheeky statement was followed by a wink and a slow shimmy of her hips.
It was intoxicating.
"Joss..." She hated how lovestruck she sounded, breathless like she had run a marathon. She wondered if she made the other girl sound winded and mindless as well.
"Finally," Josslyn groused, the eye roll was obvious, even if they were on the phone. "I thought I was going to have to freeze my ass off at Rice Park forever while I was waiting for you to pick up. Don't you know," Her voice was teasing and low, like honey being poured from the cute little bear container. "It's not polite to keep a girl waiting, Ems. Especially an impatient one like me."
"I didn't...I just... My parents..."
"Jeez, don't have an aneurysm or something. I was just teasing. But I'm completely serious when I say, I want to see you. I know you'd be breaking every rule in the 'Perfect Daughter's' bible or whatevs, but I can't help it. I can't sleep. I'm just, like, tossing and turning and reading that Shakespeare summary you gave to Cameron to give to me during English."
"It's a sonnet."
"Summary, sonnet, poem, who cares? I actually googled the meaning of it, which is more than I've done for my actual English homework my entire high school career. You should feel special. So special that you'll sneak out and meet me at Rice Park. Just for, like, an hour. I promise that you'll be tucked in your bed all snugly before your parents wake up and even know you were gone. Scout's honor!"
"You were never a Girl Scout, Joss."
"Then we'll pinky swear on it. Does it really matter? Just say you'll come. Now that both of us are, basically, on lock down, I never see you anymore."
The desperation inside the blonde's tone had Emma's stomach twisting in knots. Her decision, not that she would say so out loud, was already made the moment she knew Josslyn was calling. She wasn't going to say no to her. No matter what she asked her to do. She couldn't.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Emma nearly jumped at the husky whisper suddenly invading her ear and the arm wrapping around her waist.
"Seriously," Josslyn snickered, leaning in closer, her lips nibbling on Emma's ear. "Who did you think it was? Freddy Krueger?"
"I already feel like I've had eight cups of coffee," The taller of the two was breathing shallowly. "You sneaking up on me like that, isn't helping my heart rate slow to a normal level. If someone were to take my blood pressure right now, they'd think I was going into cardiac arrest."
"Will you just relax, Ems? What's the worst that's going to happen?"
"I'm choosing to believe that's a rhetorical question."
"Thou art more lovely and more temperate..."
"Joss..."
"I know, I know you have to go back home and so do I. It's just..." The blonde looked at the brunette through hooded lashes. "Why couldn't we both be, like, Capulets instead, ya know?"
"If we were both Capulets, we'd be related."
"Semantics. You know what I mean, Ems. Like, why does your Mom have to hate my Mom? Why can't they just be freaked out that we're into girls, you know, like normal parents?"
"Because we're, obviously, not that lucky."
"Why not?"
Emma laughed at how cute Josslyn looked; arms crossed defiantly over her chest, raspberry stained lips pouting exaggeratedly and blue eyes narrowed. She couldn't stop herself, she leaned over and captured her heart-shaped mouth in a kiss. She easily accepted the other into an embrace, enjoying how her smaller body fit against hers and how the worn roughness of her leather jacket felt in the grasp of her fingers, bringing her closer still.
How long they kissed they didn't know. But when they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily and their cheeks were flushed and lips parted just so.
"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May...And summer's lease hath too short a date..." Josslyn murmured against Emma's lips.
"Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines... And often is his gold complexion dimmed..." Emma murmured back, soft smile curling at her pert lips. "I guess that means," She dipped her head demurely, flushing. "You liked the sonnet, huh?"
"I would've settled for you writing out the lyrics to "Teenage Dream," but Shakespeare doesn't suck as much as I thought."
"Let's runaway and don't ever look back..."
"Don't say stuff like that to me, unless you really mean it, Scorpio-Drake. Cause I will seriously runaway with you. Like, right now. With only this leather jacket and my favorite slouchy beanie."
"Don't say you'll runaway with me, ever, Jacks. I don't think rationally around you. I'm just a fast beating heart, sweaty palms, a stomach that feels like it's on a roller coaster and legs that go weak far too easily."
"I know the feeling."
This could go on forever, but they know it can't. They have to rush back to their homes, climb in through their windows and dart into bed, pretending to sleep.
So they share one last kiss and walk in separate directions; their lips tingling, their bodies warm and their hearts singing.
Romeo and Juliet is overdone, but Juliet and Juliet is a story that's just begging to be told and Josslyn Jacks and Emma Scorpio-Drake are happy to fill the rolls, as long as their story ends without the tragedy.