When she woke up that morning, she never would have guessed that her day would have ended up with her in the DiLaurentis' kitchen, watching Alison hovering over the stove with a look of resolute concentration on her face as she juggles several pans at once.
"Are you sure I can't help?" Emily asks for what must be the third time, not liking being idle while the blonde is so preoccupied, but Alison doesn't even look up as she replies.
"Just like all the other times you asked Em, I'm good." Emily would have never pegged Alison as the cooking type, and she's still a little amazed that the blonde is making something for her, is astounded at the turn her day has taken.
"Well then I'm going to go get my Chem homework."
"Am I not entertaining enough for you?" Alison turns to throw Emily a mock-glare over her shoulder, and the brunette grins, wondering when things had turned so easy-going between them – not that she was complaining. She'd take this over an argument any day.
That wasn't to say all was forgiven. There were still doubts swirling around the back of her mind but… she was actually enjoying herself. Alison had opened up to her today more times than she could count – probably more times than she ever has before, in all the time that she's known the blonde.
And it's… nice. To have the air cleared between them, to be able to breathe a little easier, to not have to wonder if Alison's being genuine. Because she hasn't thought that once, since Alison had thrown herself into her arms in the school hallway – not once has she doubted her sincerity, not once has the blonde given her a reason to think that she was hiding something and it's… new and scary but good and she finds herself feeling more at ease than she has for a long, long time.
"Not right now, no." She teases Alison right back, bites her lip when the blonde scoffs at her before turning her back, leaving Emily to disappear back into the living room and haul her bag into the kitchen.
She spreads her textbooks across the table in-front of her, opens her notebook and sets to work, though she finds it hard to concentrate, her eyes continually wandering to glance at the blonde opposite her, captivated by the sight of her, enjoying the opportunity to let herself look for once, instead of trying to hide the fact that her gaze couldn't stay away from Alison for long.
"You're staring," Alison murmurs, eventually, as she bends to put the now-assembled lasagne into the oven, and Emily's eyes are unashamedly glued to the blonde's ass.
"Can you blame me?"
"Aren't you supposed to be working?"
"I'm liking this view a little more." She catches a glimpse of Alison's smile in the reflection offered by the window and feels an answering one spread across her own face. As the blonde moves over to the sink and the pile of dishes that's been building steadily towards the side of it, she makes a noise of disapproval in the back of her throat. "Leave them. I'll do them later."
"But - "
"No. You cook, I clean. That's how this works." Alison turns to glance at her, stubborn look on her face, but Emily just stares right back, unwavering.
"Fine. But I'm helping."
"We'll see," Emily murmurs under her breath as Alison sets a timer and hops onto the seat opposite her. She shuts the cover of her textbook because if she can barely get any work done while Alison's doing other things she knows there's no hope with the blonde sitting so close.
But she slams it a little too hard and it sends the three notes hiding within skittering across the countertop, and she freezes up, just a little, because the blonde hasn't brought them up so neither has she, and is she supposed to acknowledge them? Or is she supposed to act nonchalant and shove them back into the book without mentioning them?
"I'm sorry, about them." Alison saves her from trying to figure out what to say as she nods towards the notes as Emily reaches for them. "I know you'd probably prefer it if I told you things face-to-face but I…"
"Hey, you don't have to be sorry." She curls a hand around the back of Alison's, carefully avoiding the bandages across the back of them (and she's still not quite gotten a hold of her earlier rage at finding Alison in such a state, feels it rear up again whenever she catches a glimpse of the gauze and she's furious that Mona would do this to her), and squeezes gently. "I know it's hard for you to open up to people. If this is what's easier for you then that's fine. It's enough for me just to know that you're trying."
"So you don't think that it's really stupid?"
"Actually I think it's sweet." Alison's eyes had been glued to the marble counter, but at Emily's words she lifts her head, a shy smile on her face that widens when her eyes meet the brunette's. "Who would've guessed that Alison DiLaurentis was a romantic at heart?"
"I'm full of surprises."
"I bet." The air between them suddenly seems charged, and Emily is hyper-aware of the feeling of Alison's skin beneath her fingertips. She sees the blonde's eyes dip to her lips and then back up again and her breath hitches and she remembers the two kisses from before vividly, swears she can still feel Alison's lips against hers.
But she's terrified of messing this up, of moving too fast, because Alison means everything to her and she doesn't want to ruin their chance by skipping steps, and if she kisses the blonde right now she knows it will be hell to stop, so she snatches her hand away from Alison's and takes a deep breath and tells herself to gain some self-control.
Fast.
"So, you got any more letters for me?" She asks when she feels like she can speak without her voice being strained, mind overrun with the thought of grabbing a fistful of Alison's white shirt and yanking her forward, of running her hands through blonde hair and kissing Alison until neither of them could breathe.
"All in due time," Alison replies with a mysterious smile, and Emily pouts and the blonde laughs. "If I gave you them all in one go it'd ruin the mystery, wouldn't it?"
"The sooner the better." Emily is quick to answer, and Alison just shakes her head. "Fine. What did you get up to this weekend? Tell me you did something more interesting than me because I barely left my room for the entirety of it."
She listens to Alison talk about the ranch she'd gone to on Saturday with her chin propped up on the palm of her hand, elbow resting on the countertop, hanging onto the blonde's every word. It feels like it's been so long since they'd had a normal conversation – not about A or Alison's absence or fighting about where they stood with one another – and it's refreshing.
There's a light in Alison's eyes as she talks about her old hobby that makes her look so much younger than usual, a childish excitement to her that Emily's missed. She's missed this version of Alison – happy and carefree and animated – can't remember the last time she saw her like this. Certainly not since she'd come back to Rosewood, and she struggles to remember a time even before then – she hadn't realized, at the time, that Alison was being haunted by something much bigger than herself, and Emily wonders, looking back now, how she'd failed to realize that something was up.
"You'll have to come with me one day."
"Hell no," she fires back immediately, shuddering at just the mere thought. Alison had tried to drag her out to the stables with her several times in the past, and Emily had always vehemently refused. There was just something about being around animals that were vastly bigger than her that freaked her out – not to mention the insanity of the people who thought it was a good idea to climb aboard something that had a mind of its own.
The memory of the last time she was around horses is still clear in her mind, and she has no wish to repeat it.
"But why?"
"You know I don't like horses. They freak me out."
"I don't know why. They're sweet and gentle and - "
"Tell that to the one that nearly killed me and Spencer the other day."
"He was probably just scared 'cause of the storm," Alison counters, and Emily shakes her head in disbelief.
"I nearly died and all your sympathy is for the horse?"
"Don't be so dramatic." Alison rolls her eyes and Emily feigns to be horrified by her blasé attitude but on the inside she's elated. "You're completely fine."
"Just emotionally scarred for life." The blonde catches her eye and shakes her head, and Emily can't bite back the grin that settles across her face. "Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic. But there's still no way I'm going to let you take me with you one day. No. Way."
"We'll see," Alison says with a twinkle in her eye, and Emily narrows her gaze but the blonde just looks innocently back.
"Maybe I'll consider it if you come swimming with me one day." Alison's not scared of water, not like Emily's scared of horses, but the blonde had rarely been swimming with her and it had always been something she'd wanted more often – plus she'd never turn down the opportunity to see her in a swim suit.
"You can still swim? I thought… with your shoulder...?"
"I can still do it," she shrugs, pretending it's no big deal even though coming to terms with the fact that she'd never be able to swim like she used to had been one of the most difficult things she's ever had to do. "Just… not competitively. Or often. I don't really do it much anymore, it hurts too much – like, mentally, not my actual shoulder itself – but I'd make an exception for you."
"I hate A for taking that away from you."
"They could've taken worse away from me. You, for example."
"I'm not going anywhere," Alison promises her, and Emily wills herself to believe it. "And I'll think about it." Emily looks at her with confusion. "The swimming," she clarifies. "I'm thinking it'll be worth it to get you on a horse."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I never said anything about getting on a horse. I said I'd go with you. Two completely separate things."
"We'll see," Alison repeats with a mischievous grin, and the blaring of the timer signalling that the lasagne was done cuts off any protests Emily might have made. She moves to stand and help but Alison throws her a look that has her sinking back down onto the stool again.
"Very impressive," Emily comments as Alison slides a plate across to her over the counter a few minutes later, eying the food appreciatively as Alison takes her seat back opposite her.
"You haven't even tried it yet."
"Well it doesn't look like it's going to kill me, so that's a good start."
"Very funny." Emily ducks her head to hide her smile, and they eat in comfortable silence for a while – and Alison's right, she's a much better cook than Emily can probably ever hope to be, considering the lasagne's not only edible but taste's pretty great, too.
Emily cleans the dishes when they're done, Alison at her side drying them before putting them away, and the domesticity of it all isn't lost on her – unbidden, her mind's filled with the thought of a lifetime of this, of coming home from work to find Alison waiting for her, and she quickly pushes the thought away as her heart clenches hard in her chest with want.
Alison catches her gaze as she's finishing the last plate and she wonders, from the wistful look on her face, if the blonde is thinking something similar. Emily retreats to the living room couch while Alison disappears upstairs to the bathroom, and Pepe sits in-front of her and plants his head on her knee, his tail sweeping across the carpet behind him.
"You have to look after her when I'm not here buddy, okay?" She tells him as she rubs a hand behind his ears, and he whines at her in response. She's still so furious about Mona and her antics but she knows that Alison wants her to drop it, doesn't want her worrying about the blonde – but she does, can't help but wonder if Mona's planning something else and she wants to glue herself to Alison's side in-case something does but something tells her that the gesture probably wouldn't be appreciated.
When Alison comes back down the stairs there's an envelope in her hand, and Emily eyes it with curiosity as the blonde makes her way over to the couch to sit beside her, holding it out towards the brunette with trembling fingers.
"I was only joking when I was asking before," Emily murmurs, because Alison looks unsure and she doesn't want to feel like she's guilted the blonde into revealing something she's not ready for.
"I know. But this one… this is my biggest regret." Alison's voice is quiet, and she worries at her bottom lip as she pauses. "And probably one of the worst things I did, aside from leaving. So I wanted to be here when you read it. Try to explain myself, if I can."
"Okay." Emily's voice is quiet and she accepts the note almost warily, and she starts to read it as Pepe lifts his head and jumps up next to Alison, instead.
That day in the locker room was one of the worst days of my life. I'm sure it was one of yours, too.
Whenever we'd kissed before then, I'd always expected it and I was always ready for it. But on that day… I wasn't. You took me by surprise and the only thing I could think to do was to push you away because I was terrified.
With one kiss you could bring me to my knees; no-one else could make me feel the way you did. I was an idiot back then, my reputation mattered to be above all else – I didn't know how to be with a girl, so I told myself that I only kept kissing you because I liked the way you made me feel.
I loved the way you looked at me – everyone else looked at me like they wanted something from me, but you looked at me like I meant something. And I shouldn't have done what I did that day, it was cruel and stupid and hurtful, knowing how you felt and flashing you anyway.
And I still don't even know why I did it. And I'll never be able to apologize enough for the way that I reacted when you kissed me. But it just… you'd never dared to before, I'd always taken the lead once you'd made the first move and I didn't… I didn't know how I'd be able to stay away if you grew bolder because I wanted you more than I'd ever wanted anyone else before and it was hell to keep my hands to myself.
So I thought if I convinced you that you didn't mean anything to me it would be easier. But I was wrong because I felt awful after it. On that drive home I knew you were trying so hard not to cry and you barely said a word the whole time, could barely look at me and it was… the worst I've ever felt in my entire life.
I didn't know how to make it better, save telling you that I didn't mean it but I knew if I did that I wouldn't be able to stop myself falling for you any further than I already had. So I bit my lip and I stayed silent and I hated myself for hurting you and when I got home I cried over what a horrible person I was.
I went back to your house that night, but you never saw me. I tried to build up the courage to knock on the door and apologize, anything to make it better but I couldn't do it. I stayed out there until two in the morning before I forced myself to go home – and when I left I saw you curled up on your window seat with tears in your eyes and I… I've never felt worse guilt and shame in my life than I did in that moment.
But I wasn't brave enough to admit it. I pushed it down and I brushed that day off and I could see you hurting over it but I never brought it up again. A part of me was convinced that if we never talked about it then I wouldn't have to face my feelings (sound familiar? I guess I haven't changed all that much, after all). And then it was only a few weeks later that I went to Cape May for the summer.
I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was away. I tried. You don't want to know the ways that I tried… Though I suppose you know about some of them by now. And I'm not proud of it, of trying to use someone to get over you. It never worked. I just kept wishing that it was your hands on me instead.
I swore to myself that when I came back from there I'd try and be a better person. That I'd finally apologize. That I'd try and be worthy of you. That everyone else paled to even just the image of you, never mind the reality – and that trying to forget about you was futile. That I didn't think I ever would.
But I never got the chance. Mona stole that from me along with everything else, and sometimes that's what I resent her for the most.
Alison is silent while she reads, but Emily can feel the blonde's eyes on her. She doesn't know what to feel as she takes in the blonde's words – for so long, that awful day had been imprinted on her mind (even now she can remember it vividly, the feeling of Alison's soft skin beneath her lips before she'd wrenched away, the sting of rejection at the blonde's furious words, the sheer humiliation of having to drive her home and not being able to run away with her tail between her legs like she'd wanted).
It was the moment she'd finally forced herself to wake up from the dream that she'd been living – that Alison would ever feel the same way about her. It was that night, curled up on her window seat and staring blankly at the world outside as the sky had darkened around her, that she'd finally accepted that she was in love with her best friend… and that that friend would never, ever want her back.
And it had been one of the worst nights of her life so far.
And she'd hated herself for it, when Alison had disappeared. Blamed herself for that fact that their last few weeks together, before she'd gone away, had been strained because she was haunted by the revulsion on Alison's face.
It was during that time that the blonde had gotten drunk, that they'd kissed before Alison had told her she'd never feel that way about a girl. And Emily had barely even been able to look at her, after that. And a week later she was gone for the summer, leaving her alone with nothing but her own thoughts, of how stupid she was to ever believe that she'd have a chance with someone like Alison DiLaurentis.
She'd written that stupid letter then, too, telling Alison how she felt. Not that Alison had ever read it – as soon as she'd come back she was gone again, for good, this time, and all Emily had to comfort her was that last final moment alone, in her bedroom when the blonde had given her the snowglobe.
"Okay, you not talking is making me nervous." Alison's voice cuts through her thoughts, and when she lifts her head she sees the blonde worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. "This was a bad idea."
"No, it's not, I just…" She struggles to find the right words, mind still preoccupied by the blonde's. "That day was… well. Not great for me." She laughs, but it's bleak – it was the first time she'd felt heartbreak and it hadn't been something that she'd ever wanted to feel again.
And even though it pales in comparison to the feeling of losing both Alison and Maya, her heat still clenches at the memory of it.
"I'm sorry."
"What have I told you about apologizing all the time?"
"But - "
"No buts. Let me talk." She holds up a hand to stop the blonde when she opens her mouth to protest before taking a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. "First of all thank you." Alison looks surprise, and she smiles a little at the look on the blonde's face before explaining.
"You don't know for how long that day haunted me for. I dreamt about it, I had nightmares about it – and Ali, if you say sorry one more time I will walk out that front door right now - " She adds, as she sees Alison open her mouth yet again – at the brunette's words she flushes before snapping her jaw shut. "Because I never understood why. I didn't understand how the girl who was so sweet with me sometimes – like asking me to run away with her to Paris – could turn into who I saw that day.
"Because okay, I knew you could be a bitch." She smiles apologetically at the blonde but Alison just waves her on. "I'd seen it in you. Towards me even, sometimes. But never like that… And I wondered how deluded I must've been, to actually convince myself that you might have feelings for me, too. That day was like a slap in the face, and I looked back and I decided that you'd just been messing with me all along."
"I swear I wasn't," Alison interrupts, her voice pleading and her eyes filled with desperation. "I wasn't. But I never knew how to love, Emily. My parents, my brother, weren't… you've seen them. Do you think I grew up in a happy, loving home? Because I didn't. So what I felt for you paralyzed with me fear. I wasn't supposed to fall for anyone. And I didn't know how to deal with it and it doesn't justifyanything – nothing can do that – but I just wanted… I needed to try and help you understand what I was thinking back then. Because I look back at that day and some of the others and I think that if our positions were reversed, how could I ever believe that you had feelings for me at all with some of the things I did? And I realized that I wouldn't. Not without trying to understand you. Maybe not even then. So I don't even know how I can ask you to try."
"Luckily for you I happen to be very open-minded." She tries to lighten the mood, her mind still swirling from the turn this day has taken, and when she sees that Alison still looks so worried she reaches out and takes one of the blonde's hands in her own, twisting their fingers together and squeezing softly. "Did you really mean it?" Alison raises a questioning eyebrow. "About Paris. About running away."
"I meant it. We'd get a crappy one-bedroom apartment overlooking the city, the Eiffel tower in the background, and every weekend we'd visit a different part of the city until we'd been to it all, have a huge collage of all the photo's we'd taken in each place. You'd teach kids to swim; I'd teach them English. We'd take Pepe with us, and we'd never look back." There's a faraway look on Alison's face, like she's daydreamed about this a hundred times before, and both that and her words warm Emily's heart.
"Sounds nice."
"Sounds like a fantasy." Alison's eyes had been downcast, focusing on where Emily was drawing absent patterns on the back of her hand with her fingers, and when she finally looks up her eyes are sad.
"Sounds like a dream," Emily corrects, gently, holding Alison's gaze, barely able to breathe under the intensity of it. "Then it's something to work towards."
"You'd really go?"
"How else are you going to see how good I look on top of the Eifel tower?" Alison smiles for the first time since she'd come downstairs, and Emily congratulates herself for pulling one out of the blonde when she'd seemed so worried before.
Alison's eyes hold hers and Emily wants nothing more than to close the distance between them and crash their lips together, to feel how much Alison wants her, instead of reading it. She's drawn to Alison with an almost magnetic force, doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself anymore. It's like a floodgate had opened, that night when they'd fought over the photos of Alison and Noel together, after Alison had thrown her against the wall and kissed her until she could scarcely remember why they were arguing in the first place – and ever since, whenever they've been alone, they've kissed.
And Emily wants it again, craves the taste of Alison's mouth on her tongue with a desperation that she's never felt before, and her fingers tremble against the back of Alison's hand, and the blonde's eyes are dark and Emily can feel her heart beating loud in her ears and she wants her and screw moving slow because she doesn't know if she can survive the wait, consequences be damned.
She finds herself leaning forward almost without conscious thought, unable to resist the lure of Alison's lips – and the second before they touch the front door slams open, and Emily springs away from the blonde with her heart pounding fast in her chest, and she schools her face into what she hopes is a neutral expression as Alison's dad comes into view.
"Emily." He sounds surprised to see her, and she smiles in greeting, hoping that she doesn't look like she's just been having very inappropriate thoughts about his daughter. "I didn't realize you were coming over tonight."
"I invited her over for dinner," Alison explains, and Emily's sure she sees resentment in the blonde's eyes. "Seeing as you're never here for it." That last part is muttered under her breath, too quiet for her father to hear it, and Emily feels a stab of sympathy at what it must feel like to come back from the dead and have your own father be even more absent than ever before.
"So you've already eaten?"
"There are leftovers in the fridge." He nods to himself before heading into the kitchen without another word, and Alison watches him go with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I think that's my cue to leave," Emily murmurs before she rises to her feet, and Alison catches her wrist and half-heartedly tries to pull her back down.
"You don't have to."
"I do. I told my Mom I'd be home by eight and I have homework I need to finish by tomorrow or I'm screwed…" She bites her lip, debating whether to admit to real reason why she feels like she needs to go… and decides what the hell. "Plus I'm not really sure I can be trusted to keep my hands to myself when I'm around you right now and that's probably not a good idea while your dad's around."
Alison flushes at her words and she smirks before turning her back and busying herself with collecting her stuff and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You can't say stuff like that and then just leave," Alison mutters darkly as she follows the brunette to the front door and Emily chuckles quietly.
"But we're supposed to be taking this one step at a time," she points out, opening the door and then leaning her shoulder against the frame, and when Alison's eyes trail deliberately slowly down the length of her body her breath hitches.
"Yeah, well, I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that." She has to fight a shudder at the husky tone of the blonde's voice, because she's not used to it. Alison has never looked at her so openly (aside from that night in her bedroom upstairs when Emily's dreams had come true), like she wanted to rip off her clothes and kiss every inch of her skin, and it sets her aflame.
She's pretty sure she's going to need a cold shower when she gets home.
"That's definitely my cue to leave." Her throat feels tight, and her voice comes out strained, and this time it's Alison who smirks and Emily wants to wipe it away with a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Mhm. But text me when you get home so I know you made it safely."
"Ali I live like five minutes away." Though a part of her is thrilled by the blonde's concern over her welfare – not that she'd ever admit it.
"I don't care. A lot can happen between now and then."
"Fine, fine, I'll text you, Mom." Alison glares at her playfully but she just grins, bending down briefly to give Pepe one last pat goodbye. "Night, Ali." She gives the blonde one last lingering look before forcing herself to turn and walk to her car, feeling the weight of Alison's gaze on her back.
She's sliding into the driver's seat when her phone rings, and when she fishes it out of her pocket she sees Hanna's name and shakes her head, deciding to ignore it – at least until she sees that the blonde has already tried to reach her several times.
"Fucking finally," Hanna's voice is relieved in her ear when she finally answers, and she rolls her eyes at the tone of the blonde's voice. "I thought Alison had kidnapped you to force you to stay at her house."
"How do you know I was there?"
"Because I am at yours and your Mom told me."
"What? Why are you at my house?"
"Um, because I needed to talk to you, dumbass, and you wouldn't pick up the freaking phone. Your Mom let me in, told me I could wait for you to get back from Ali's. Have you finally finished fucking for long enough for you to take a call?"
"It's not like that," she says with a huff as she pulls carefully out of Alison's driveway.
"Oh? What is it like, then? Enlighten me."
"Why did you need to talk to me so bad, anyway?" She asks, trying to change the subject, and Hanna tuts in disapproval.
"You're not getting away with it that easily, Fields. And I'll tell you when you finally drag your ass back here. Maybe the curiosity of it will be enough for you to drag yourself away from Alison's mouth for two seconds."
"You're ridiculous."
"Oh, am I? Am I really? So there's nothing going on between you two?" She doesn't answer, doesn't want to lie – because though there's not, technically, she's hoping there will be soon. "See. I knew it."
"Whatever." She reaches her own drive, pulls up in the driveway and sees Hanna perched in the window of her bedroom – when the blonde sees her she grins and waves, and Emily shakes her head. "I'll be up in two seconds."
"I'll be waiting. And if you think you can get away with not spilling the beans on whatever's going on between you and Ali, think again."
