Hello guys! So here we have some revelations (finally)! I wanna thank y'all for sticking around and for the reviews and faves and follows, everything actually! I know this fanfic is pretty slow but I hope you stay with me through it because it's like a great hotchniss theory I created while watching lol I guess it will be worth the wait! I'm already writing the new chapter of Definition of Family btw *wink*
A huge thank you to Franjp, she's been quite a friend and helping me to have courage to publish my stuff :)
Hope you enjoy it!
"LIMELIGHT"
Things were getting worse every time. Emily fooled herself with lies and made up stories about the reasons why she remained quiet. She didn't even know why she was still holding that to herself; after all, clearly there was something off about Hotch since they came back from the holidays. Eventually, the brunette agent judged it was something concerning Haley. She called him, didn't she? Maybe they weren't in terms over the divorce yet. Maybe they decided to give it a second chance for Jack's sake.
She immediately excluded the second option. The Unit Chief seemed more shattered than before, the lines of his masculine face were more apparent, though very slightly. He was tired, worn out to be honest, and his sorrow was nearing the palpable.
As Prentiss crossed the bullpen in order to reach her desk, Spencer and Dave were already gone. Although her brains struggled to remember some missing case or consult, nothing came to her and she sat quietly on her not so comfortable chair. She had her favorite coffee from an almost not sacked café near Quantico. It was on her way to work, so she could easily bring herself to afford some cups of the black content without properly leaving her usual track.
Sometimes Emily Prentiss loved to drive. The sensation of some fine music and control had such a powerful effect on her state of extreme solitude that it suddenly made her feel whole. Sometimes buses or subways seemed way better for the same reasons. Those were her choices when she was digging too deep into herself that only a small crowd of strange faces could make her feel less empty. It was like a spiral and it shifted just as her mood did.
The day after their encounter, she took the subway. Although she tried her best do deny it, she knew that Hotch only used her to cope with his own pain. It was somber and infuriating, but Emily Prentiss had done this before to many other good people, those she hurt along the stride of her twisted life.
"Wanna come over for lunch?" his question reverberated in her insides, latching the rest of her agonizing pride.
She agreed with a simple nod and she never found herself at such a loss of words as when Aaron Hotchner made his way to the nearest diner, eyes focused on the track, tight grip on the steering wheel and she vaguely wondered if it was his way of driving. At least, since their encounter, he had been showing this pattern, for whatever reason. It could be stress, it could be the stitches, it could even be Emily watching him more often than she should.
If she had to be honest with herself, he had been gawking at her too. More than eventually, Prentiss felt the hairs on the nape of her neck standing and a thrill running down her spine. One would call that paranoia, though she knew those were the searing eyes of the Unit Chief boring into her back. Not for sexual input, as a matter of fact, but the subordinate had that exquisite sensation he was keeping something from her.
Probably keeping how hard he was struggling with Haley, maybe – and that puny voice was still a muffled screamer in the back of her mind – their brief interlude caught up with him as much as it caught up with her.
No, she wasn't head over heels or falling in love. She was just stuck in the middle of something nonexistent but still so real that it ached, throbbed relentlessly. It was not like their situation was affecting her because if one looked at her face and her mood and her lingering girlish smile, this person would assure Emily Prentiss seemed the happiest lonely person of the entire world. 'Appearances are everything, they can always define who you are.' her mother used to repeat these vile words every single day. Well, whenever she could make it home.
"She said I should sign the papers uncontested, so we can keep it between us, no suffer, no extra money spent"
They were both devouring their meals therefore they could make it back to business the fastest available. Even with only paperwork to be finished and a possible case in Philadelphia, both were not that kind of people. The older agent cleaned his mouth with the white napkin, applying a gentle pressure to which the younger found herself nearly trapped to follow each action. Doe eyes fluttered eyelids in a flick, giving him no time to perceive how much she clung to that.
"And what do you want?"
Hotch told her sharp and clean, enough for her to lock these words inside her mind until she probably couldn't handle the distressing pain flowing through her veins in slow motion. He wanted Haley back, he wanted Jack back, most of all, he wanted his life back. Emily knew how selfish it was what she'd say next, but this was another of her flaws.
"What you want, you're not gonna get" his sight met her vacant stare, his eyebrows lifting only an inch.
The way back to business was about ten minutes of icy silence, broken when he turned on the radio and some classic hits' program was playing at a random station. His jaw clenched as did her fingertips, which clawed instinctively to the fabric of her pants. Grunge was not his thing, but the mournful voice struck through him, tearing down all his walls until they were fallen to ashes.
I know someday you'll have a beautiful life,
I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky,
But why, why, why can't it be, can't it be mine?
Pictures of how their bodies almost pathologically feasted on each other formed crystal clear in front of his eyes. It was almost like he could stop himself from breaking her as he did. Only he couldn't, things were done, indulgence never meant forgiveness.
"I know what happened that night" her voice murmured bluntly, aggressive against the echoing rhythm.
She never knew for sure why she told him the truth. She was touched by the remembrances of her youth, brought up through the strums of the guitar. Prentiss should have known better than to open her big mouth. But she didn't, and life was altered again.
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