entitled; sincerely, yours
summary; a princess, a criminal, and a much unexpected connection | breakfast club au.
rating; t
disclaimer; i, as always, own nothing more than the longing to see these stories come to life.
word count; 1,039
notes; all the aus, forever.
sincerely, yours
.
There was something about Jones—she wasn't too sure what it was that drew her in when he was nothing but a royal pain in her ass all morning, but it did as she'd previously stated: it drew her in. And quite well, too.
"See something you like, Princess?"
Emma's cheeks flushed and she turned her attention to the joint in her hand; she'd somehow ended up alone with him, while Ruby, Jefferson and Neal were entertaining themselves elsewhere in the library.
"Don't flatter yourself, Jones." She murmured, not sounding quite as snarky as she'd hoped she would.
He smirked then, but said nothing; he simply brought the joint he held in between his thumb and index finger up to his lips and inhaled deeply.
The silence, for Emma at least, was a comfortable one; he definitely annoyed her with his stupid smirk and the words unsaid that were currently hanging in the air, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy his company. Jones, as reckless and rebellious as he was, was something else… Something different and dangerous, and tempting and—
"My father left when I was 9," he said suddey, causing Emma to jerk her head up and catch his steely blue gaze, "Got in trouble with some bad people, owed them some money and he told my mom he'd pay them somehow and that we would be fine." He paused then, held her gaze for a bit longer before dropping it to the joint in his fingers, "He was gone before morning that night."
Emma bit down on her lip, not quite sure how to respond to something like that; she wanted to say everything and nothing all at once but all she managed to blurt out was, "Why are you telling me this?"
She was so damn sure he'd lash out at her as he'd done most of the morning, but he surprised her with another crooked smirk and a small shrug, "Who knows?"
Emma stayed silent then, bringing her own joint to her lips and inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. A part of her was fighting the urge to snort; if only her parents could see her now.
"My parents haven't paid a single bit of attention to me since I started middle school," she blurted out before she could talk herself out of it, "They throw gifts my way, spoil the shit out of me and I love them both, but it's like all they're doing is trying to one up each other through me." Emma risked a glance at Jones and had to fight the urge to squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. "I know it doesn't compare to your dad walking out on you and your mom—"
"Situations are entirely different, Emma—" She had to ignore the shiver that crawled up her spine at hearing him say her name aloud for the first time, "—I'm not looking to compare parental issues. I told you because I wanted to."
Emma pursed her lips and nodded slowly, though a part of her was really surprised by his words. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless.
After that the others came back, and they drifted back to the familiar routine—lashing out at each other, Emma playing disgusted at just about everything that came out of his mouth and him biting her head off for every ignorant remark that came out of hers. They finished up their joints, had a few laughs when Mrs. Mills popped back in to yell at them.
"You all think he's pretty damn funny, do you?" Mrs. Mills spat, eyes narrowed at Jones, "Why don't the lot of you go visit him in five years, see how funny he is then ."
Emma had to fight the urge to comment then; the look that flashed across his features made her feel uneasy. He was bothered by it, so much more than he was letting on and she hated it.
There was nothing she could do without causing more trouble for Jones so she bit her tongue, let him cool off and only approached him when they were finally free from their eight-hour prison.
She really had no clue what to tell him—words always seemed to escape her when he was in close proximity—but she took off the swan necklace hanging around her neck and let it fall into his open palm. It was literally the least expensive thing she owned and to anyone else it wouldn't have been worth jack, but the necklace was the most important thing to her and Emma knew that he knew it.
He hesitated—gave her this look, almost as if he was asking her if she was sure she wanted to part with it, but when she nodded, he closed his fingers around it, holding it tightly and Emma found herself leaning into him. One hand holding her bag, the other resting lightly over his closed fist, she moved forward and pressed her lips against his; she wondered if he had ever been kissed like that—softly, sweetly, like he actually meant something to someone. Like he meant so much to them. Emma definitely hadn't.
He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her in closer, wanting more but not wanting to deepen the kiss too much for fear of losing that sweet tenderness of it all and Emma found herself smiling against his lips before pulling back.
He rested his forehead against hers, well aware of her father glaring at him from the car a few feet away, no doubt, and nuzzled his nose against hers. She didn't know if things would be different on Monday, but they had this moment and she wanted it to last as long as possible. She wanted it to last forever.
"Chin up, Princess." He murmured, that stupid crooked smirk slowly slipping onto his lips as she started to slip away, "I'm not quite done with you yet."
Emma rolled her eyes, but couldn't fight the smile that made its way onto her lips; no, they weren't done just yet.
end.