She doesn't do this, never has she done this - and while the I-take-no-shit-from-anyone woman in her tells her to just own it and to simply walk tall, she can't help the little bow to her head as she ignores the sharp pains in her calves with the six-inches she now is beginning to sorely regret.
And it's not that she's a prude, never being one to have one night stands, it's just she's never had to be the one having to do the walk of shame. Usually, it'd be her place they go to - after one too many shots and far too many not subtle hints, leading him with seductive words and persuasive kisses - always preferring for him to be the one having to walk home, with yesterday's clothes in today's harsh morning light, but she'd gotten tired of the bar near her apartment, of the same men showing up each weekend and it's no fun anymore. So, this time, his place had been closer, and she was far too eager to try and convince him to hop into her car for a ten minute drive back to hers, and for the first time, she's in unfamiliar territory.
Also for the first time: she does the walk of shame.
Everything about her is a dead giveaway about her affairs of the night prior to just about anyone that has eyes - her disarrayed hair screaming 'sex!', her wrinkled dress yelling 'I was in a pile on some random guy's floor last night,' and her smeared eyeliner saying 'smudge-proof, my ass'.
And of course, to add to that, she'd drunk so much the night before that she can barely remember which way they'd come from, much less the bar she'd parked her car at.
She vaguely contemplates running back up there and asking Dean? Daniel? Darren? for directions back to the bar, but while she's extremely desperate, she's not going to do that.
There's a hint of coffee in the air, and (checking her purse to see if she has any money left) she follows the trail the strong scent leaves and after a few (pained, but worth it) blocks, she finds a little café with barely anyone in it.
Seeing as she can't find her transport back, and her go-to girl (a.k.a Ruby) for these situations is definitely not awake yet, she doesn't ask for a to-go cup, instead settling at the table by the window. There's no one here to judge her so she slips out of her dreaded heels, her feet slipping comfortably onto the empty chair opposite her. The barista that'd served her coffee to her shakes his head at her, but there's a lack of sternness behind it and she sees that he's laughing at her antics instead.
Ten minutes later, when she's fiddling with her phone, just having texted Ruby to pick her up the moment she wakes (the exaggerated use of the words 'stranded' and 'middle of nowhere' in hopes that'll put a sense of urgency into her friend), another customer walks in. She contemplates for just about a second on whether or not she should put her feet back down before she decides not to, honestly too past the thought of caring about what others would think.
But he's not a customer, or maybe he's just an extreme regular, because two steps into the café, and the barista's throwing some piece of cloth in his direction.
"Oi," the maybe-customer grumbles, barely managing to catch it in time before it lands on his face, the cap he wears slightly out of place and now she catches a hint of blue eyes and dark, dark hair.
"Again, Killian? Seriously?" Liam the barista asks (she'd spied his name earlier when he'd handed her drink to her), his arms folded and an obvious look of disappointment on his face. "You did this last week, as well."
She watches as Killian rolls his eyes, pushing the cap off his head before he runs his hands through the thick locks of raven hair. He still doesn't notice her, and she doesn't blame him - she had chosen the corner of the establishment for a reason after all.
He grumbles again, moving towards the back of the counter as he slips the (what now she realises is an) apron on, the maroon of the fabric contrasting against his black clothing. "I still don't understand why we open so early anyway - not like people come to this bloody place in the God forsaken hours of a Sunday morning," he complains petulantly, and it's only then that Emma notices he, as well as Liam, have accents, likely from England.
She has better things to do than to eavesdrop really (no she doesn't), but their conversation is amusing and the dynamic between the two makes her smile.
"Well you're wrong about that," Liam nods his head towards Emma, and nope, she doesn't have the time to fish out her phone and act like she wasn't just watching the whole thing play out, so being stuck with a lack of choices, she sends them an amused smile when his attentions are turned her way.
His mouth hangs the slightest bit ajar and this is the first time since he'd come in that she gets a real good look at him and boy, he has a good look. His jaw is sharp and littered with an even stubble, red lips slightly opened, and even bluer eyes than she'd first expected.
"Oh- I- um-"
Liam steps forward ahead of the other man, "I believe my idiot of a brother means to apologise for his underestimating of this café," he speaks for him, a pretty smile on his lips before he turns back to Killian with his expressions hardened, "didn't you, Killian?"
"Oh, aye," he nods his head, eyes still caught on Emma, and she tries not to notice his stare.
"Now help set up," his brother turns, bumping their shoulders together, and as he's about to disappear into the back room, "Bloody hell, you reek of booze and sex - go freshen up, will you."
Even from here she can see the hint of red on his cheeks at the obvious embarrassment he feels, and he cringes before nodding once at her and turning on his heel after his brother. She distantly hears an upset 'you just had to do that, didn't you!' and she stifles a laugh at that, returning back to her phone and drink.
He reappears ten minutes later, literally appearing before her his black henley he'd worn earlier swapped for a black polo with his hand running through his hair in a show of nerves and frankly, it's adorable.
"What my brother said about the sex thing - it's not tru- well, it's true but, I'm not like that, and not that I'm trying anything but I'm not in a relationship either - it was just a one night-" he wrinkles his nose at that, and she's forced to bite on her lower lip to stop her from grinning too much, "Bloody hell, I must sound like a complete arse, but-"
She holds her hand up and it shuts him up, mouth sealed in a straight line as he nods once, his body growing rigid.
"As you can see," she gestures with the same hand down the length of her lain out body, "I, too, have escaped a one night stand, and it's far from my place to judge you for yours."
A smile breaks on his face and she watches as his tongue flits out to dampen his lower lip and no, it's not arousing her, because he's cute with his nerves and his fidgeting and cute guys aren't usually her thing, mostly going for assholes because at least like that she knows there'll be no commitment, but cute guys - they're a problem. "Okay," he grins, and the corner of his eyes crinkle from it. "Do you happen to want a refill? Like, on the house? Or more likely on me, 'cause Liam's not going to like that I'm giving out free drinks to pretty women - not that I just go around giving free coffee to anyone who comes in here - no, no, just you, I promise."
She stares at him contemplatively, how his one hand hides behind his back and how the other moves to scratch his ear in what must be habit, and just as she's about to put the man out of his misery, a text comes in and both their eyes flit to the phone in her hand.
It's from Ruby (a 'shit, i'm sorry, send me your location, i'm on the way now) and of course she has the worse timing ever.
"Do you need to take that?"
"Yeah," she answers, typing out her reply before tucking her phone away, her eyes glancing back upwards to meet his, "Right, so - you were in the middle of asking me out?"
His smile grows and his eyes get bluer with every inch his grin widens, "Yeah, I was."
-/-
(Ruby's mildly confused, already grabbing her coat when Emma's message comes in, but she doesn't bother fighting her, simply falling back into bed and off to sleep, making a note to later ask what exactly 'no, i think i'll be okay' means)