Having Emily around is also sort of like- not having Emily around.
Aubrey doesn't notice it much, at first. She'd left the airport after only a brief exchange with Emily, during which the Vampire had whimpered out this partly pathetic, but mostly just precious noise of genuine gratitude and exuberance, before launching herself into Aubrey's arms and wetting the blonde's neck with tears. Instinctively, Aubrey had held her tight against her chest, murmuring small comforts about how Beca would only be gone for the weekend while firmly reminding herself of the very same thing.
Emily had sniffled, wiped her face with the sleeves of her Henley, and promptly informed Aubrey that she needed to grab a few things, first, before meeting her at the apartment; it had actually worked out pretty perfectly, because Aubrey had needed to rush a little, anyway, just to make it back in time for her only Friday class.
Aubrey had nearly expected Emily to drag her entire house with her to Aubrey's apartment, to be truthful.
Emily had just been so relieved, and so near-tangibly excited, that Aubrey is honestly just thankful that her newest Bella only shows up at her door with a suitcase full of clothes, along with several now-obsolete board games, most of her music library (via her laptop), and her entire collection of Grey's Anatomy on DVD.
The blonde comes very close, then, to reminding Emily that this isn't a girls' night; it isn't intended to be fun, and the only sort of bonding that Aubrey can really afford to focus on, right now, is the one between her and an 'A' in Civil Law.
(Aubrey's aced every homework and class assignment so far, and her participation points ought to be through the roof; she profoundly intends to keep that 'A' very, very closely bonded to her name, and that means fierce dedication to her studies, at least for this weekend.)
Still, Emily is sweet and so, so eager, and her face is completely cleared of everything – makeup and tears alike – so Aubrey thinks it might actually be cruel to tell Emily anything but, "Make yourself at home."
And Emily swiftly does, but it's mostly subtle.
Aubrey sets up her study supplies in her office and, after offering the brunette a brief tour, she hardly hears or sees any evidence of Emily's presence for hours.
The blonde reads a chapter from one textbook before switching to the other, hoping to keep herself interested in both subjects for as long as possible. She highlights her notes (but not her books, because Aubrey firmly believes that, inherently, it is wrong to mark them in any way that might possibly be considered permanent), and types up more notes to highlight, after she is finished with the originals; she makes flashcards and creates a study guide for herself, since her professor hadn't bothered to go to all that trouble; she stares at her pages until her eyes feel dry and bleary, and she blinks hard, just once, before abruptly standing.
It is definitely time for a coffee break.
It's just that Aubrey's sort of forgotten that she isn't alone. Chloe is rarely quiet – not to the extent that Aubrey could ever forget that she is there, anyway – and it's strange that someone else is in her apartment who is very near purely silent.
Aubrey startles a little when she realizes that the living room television is still flashing pictures, but the blonde never hears a sound.
Still, Emily grins and smashes her thumb over the pause button on the remote, effectively freezing the images on the screen. The room gets quieter, but only just – like the rumble of a car engine that fades away so quickly that Aubrey's consciousness isn't even aware of the sound at all – and Aubrey realizes that Emily actually hadn't muted the television.
She hadn't even needed to.
Emily had just turned the volume down so low that Aubrey had hardly even noticed it, even when she'd actively been paying attention and trying to hear it – and, Aubrey realizes abruptly, it probably doesn't even bother Emily to do that, because her hearing just that good.
Aubrey lilts her head curiously and stops behind the couch, and Emily swings her neck around and backward to continue eyeing her with that unnaturally giddy grin that is, all at once, both unnerving and adorable.
"Is it really loud, for you, when you're around us?" Aubrey wonders curiously, in lieu of a greeting. "I mean," she gestures vaguely toward the television and frowns, "you obviously can hear extremely well, right? Is our level of noise just- seriously overwhelming, for you?"
"Oh," Emily blinks and frowns. "Well, I guess sometimes it's a little… much," she hesitates. "I mean, I love humans. Really!" She insists, swinging her legs up on the couch and leaning her elbow across the back of it to press her cheek against her palm. "I was one, like, only a couple years ago, and a lot of times I actually still forget that I'm not, anymore, you know?"
Aubrey doesn't know – not really – but she imagines that, yes, it could be difficult to remember, at times.
From what she's seen, and from what she's learned, Vampires aren't truthfully that much different than humans. Their behaviors are sometimes so similar that Aubrey had mistaken Beca for human, at first, too.
Vampires can pretend very well, and Aubrey thinks that's probably because, historically, they've needed to. But Emily was only made ninto a Vampire three years ago, according to Beca – and she would know better than anyone else, Aubrey is sure, because Emily is Beca's whole entire world – and Vampires, in general, had already been made a public issue, by then.
Emily is probably one of the very first Vampires born into a generation that no longer has any reason to hide.
"But, like, sometimes… sometimes you can be really irritating," Emily huffs out finally, and, a second later, abruptly straightens her back to give herself the balance she needs in order to frantically slice her hands through the air. "Not, like, you. Not specifically!" Emily swears earnestly. "I just meant, you know…" She shrugs and smiles bashfully. "Humans, in general. It just- It sort of feels like everyone's yelling, all the time. You get used to it," Emily shrugs. "But sometimes, I guess, yeah… It is a little loud. I think that maybe that's why Beca doesn't really like crowds, you know? She thinks it should only be loud when the music is loud."
"What do you mean?" Aubrey frowns bemusedly, and tips her head toward the kitchen in invitation for Emily to join her.
Aubrey really isn't surprised when Emily follows, trailing on Aubrey's heels like a little puppy in a foreign place, and Aubrey thinks that maybe that isn't so far from the truth.
"Well, like," Emily twists her mouth contemplatively, before she eventually shrugs, "Beca likes clubs, you know? And concerts, and– well, pretty much anything musical, she can sit through," Emily nods absently. "But she hates movie theaters, and busy restaurants, and sometimes even the grocery store," she giggles softly. "But I think it's worse, for her, than it is for me," Emily muses quietly. "Like, our powers get stronger as we get older, you know? And Beca– she's been around forever," she beams, like Beca is some sentient being that has just existed on this planet, century after century, no matter what goes on in the world around her, and like Emily thinks it's the coolest, most impressive thing she's ever known.
Aubrey doesn't mention it, but she's suddenly very, very certain that Beca hasn't spoken with Emily about how lonely that time had been, for her; she thinks probably that Emily might not feel so proud of Beca's enduring life if Beca had ever actually shared with her sired what that life had been like, for her.
"I think she hears better than most of us do. Maybe more, or something?" Emily scrunches up her nose, and Aubrey chuckles under her breath as she moves to fill the coffee pot with water, because Aubrey is distracted by her studies (and by her exhaustion), but Emily is such a tension-reliever.
And it probably doesn't hurt that Emily takes the word 'adorable' and basically gives it life, and physical form, too.
"I'm not sure," Emily laughs softly and shakes her head. "I don't- I don't know how all of it works, honestly," she confesses, nervously curling a hair behind her ear that Aubrey thinks was probably already there, in the first place. "I know Beca's stronger than most of us," Emily bobs her head from side to side, considering. "She's even stronger than Luke, and he's only, like, a hundred or something years younger than she is," she grins proudly, boosting herself onto the counter as Aubrey measures several scoops of coffee into the filter. "Oh, and also, her compulsion is just- woah," Emily blinks, like even the thought of it makes her confused. "There are guards and stuff, at the Villa," Emily explains quickly, "and they'll compel you to be still, or be patient," she huffs irritably, and Aubrey smiles to herself and thinks that patience likely is not a shining quality in Emily's repertoire, "so I know what it feels like, but…" She trails off, and chews the inside of her cheek in a thoughtful way that Aubrey recognizes, because she's never seen Emily do it, before now, but Aubrey does it more often than she'd like to admit.
"It's still different?" Aubrey supplies helpfully, but she thinks maybe that she is asking because she is curious.
She understands that Beca is the Vampire Queen, but everything Aubrey knows about Vampires has either come from partially (mostly, Aubrey will now admit) inaccurate literature on the web, and from Beca, herself; she's been using Beca as her gauge, and now she isn't wholly sure that it's alright to generalize, that way. Aubrey knows that Beca is special, but – even amongst her own kind – she is still unique.
The way that Emily tells it, Beca is actually the anomaly.
It makes sense, Aubrey supposes, because how frequently is a queen ever in possession of the same power, or of the same class as her subjects? How frequently is a queen's behavior indicative of the nation she presides over?
Basically never.
"Yeah," Emily breathes out with a small smile, and shakes her head. "Like, when a Vampire uses compulsion on you, most of the time you know about it, you know? It's sort of like…" she pauses and trails off. "Like Harry Potter!" She exclaims – extremely loudly and abruptly – then urgently claps a hand over her mouth when Aubrey spins around to face her so quickly that her hair spins out behind her, and she directs a poisonous glare at Emily before slipping out her hairband and retying it all over again, clipping the flyaway strands in her ponytail.
Aubrey doesn't mean it, for the most part, but Emily's volume had actually briefly startled her; she's forgetting, a little bit, that Emily is a Bella – and all Bellas are inarguably capable of being loud, even if they mostly aren't.
It isn't Emily fault, to be honest – Chloe is much louder than this, most days, and Emily is practically mute, in comparison; Aubrey just hadn't been expecting it.
But Aubrey's been affected by Beca's compulsion before, and, aside from the vaguely magical aspect of the ability to begin with, she doesn't fully understand how it's anything even like Harry Potter at all.
"How so?" Aubrey inclines her brow.
"What?" Emily squeaks nervously, shuffling anxiously over her thighs and purposefully clipping her hands beneath them, like she might break another one of Aubrey's unspoken rules concerning behavior if she's allowed to move them freely.
Aubrey rolls her eyes, but teasingly reiterates, "How is it like Harry Potter?"
"Oh!" Emily laughs at herself breathily and shakes her head. "Well, like, you remember the imperius curse? You know, the one that makes you do whatever someone wants you to? It's sort of like that. At least, most of the time," Emily amends with a smal shrug. "You usually know when another Vampire is using compulsion, 'cause you mostly feel like your body is doing things that you know you didn't tell it to, or even want it to. It's almost like you can hear another voice in your head that doesn't belong to you, and it makes you listen. But when Beca does it, it's sort of like- like it was your own idea," she frowns. "Like you thought it up, all on your own. She makes it feel like it was your decision, you know?"
And, Aubrey realizes as she narrows her eyes in thought, she doesn't.
When Beca had compelled her before – even advertently – she'd never made Aubrey do anything, because the order Beca had given had not concerned Aubrey at all.
She had just- caught Aubrey's interest. In that moment, it had felt like nothing had mattered in the world except for anything that Beca might tell her to do, and even though Beca hadn't – had never intended to use it on Aubrey at all – Aubrey had just felt- captivated. She had felt like Beca's wants were her own, and the only thing she felt capable of doing was anything that Beca might ask her to do, because no other incentive had been worth depriving herself of Beca's eyes, and her voice.
"I know it's because she's older," Emily murmurs quietly, and shakes her head, "but the only other person who I've met that's ever come close to, like, rivalling her power, or whatever, is Kommissar. And she's just sort of- scary," Emily whispers, like the woman can hear her, even from here.
Aubrey doesn't know, exactly, where the Villa might actually be, but she smiles, anyway, because she is still sure that Emily's hushed tones are entirely unnecessary.
"Does she know Beca?" Aubrey wonders, pressing start on the coffee maker and leaning her hips into the counter as she waits. "Kommissar, I mean?"
"Yes," Emily breathes instantly, and also reluctantly. Her face sort of- squishes, a little, into something that is obviously uncomfortable, before she irritably replies, "She likes toying with her, I think. Kommissar, I mean; likes toying with Beca," Emily replies ramblingly. "She just- really likes that they're almost the same age. There's aren't many of us who get that old, you know?" Emily smiles and shrugs. "But Beca and Kommissar are only, like, a few decades apart, I think. And Kommissar really just likes proving it. She uses her compulsion on Beca, like, all the time."
"Can she even do that?" Aubrey hisses. "Can she really just compel her Queen, to do whatever she wants?" Aubrey frowns, and balls her right hand into an oddly concerned and protective fist – one that Aubrey knows is useless, because even if Kommissar is the enormous aca-bitch that Aubrey is beginning to believe that she is, Aubrey certainly couldn't take her.
"Well, she can," Emily frowns. "Beca doesn't like using her compulsion," Emily smiles affectionately, resting her eyes closed, only for a moment – like she's remembering Beca; like she thinks of her and smells her and breathes her in, even when she isn't here. "She doesn't use it unless she needs to, or unless she's asked, so she doesn't really, like, retaliate, or anything. Not most of the time," Emily tells her.
"Why in the aca-hell would anyone ask for that?" Aubrey shakes her head bemusedly, and jerks it back in surprise.
Emily is oddly quiet, for a moment, before she shrugs feebly and averts her gaze to the floor.
"Sometimes, it's easier to- to talk, or to share, or to give over part of yourself when she makes you," the young Bella murmurs quietly. "Sometimes, it's easier to give up control of your thoughts and your feelings and just- yourself," Emily breathes reverently and shakes her head weakly, like she isn't explaining it the way that she wants to. "Sometimes, it's just- easier, if you don't have a choice. If someone is making you do it. And it's- it's so much easier if that person is someone you know you can trust," she swallows thickly.
Emily still won't look at Aubrey; still won't raise her gaze from the floor.
Aubrey doesn't understand where, or how, but she thinks she's offended Emily; she thinks she's made her feel guilty, or bad, or somehow shamed, and that had never been Aubrey's intention.
"I'm a control freak," Aubrey blurts gracelessly, and winces. "I didn't- I didn't mean to embarrass you," she swears. "Or offend you," she adds earnestly. "That's just- something that's really difficult for me to understand, that's all."
Emily smiles at her pink-painted toes, before she tentatively lifts her eyes and focuses them on Aubrey, instead.
"It's difficult to feel, too," Emily sympathizes, with an understanding nod. "But Beca– she makes it easy," she sighs lovingly. "Or maybe that's just me," she laughs anxiously and shrugs, like she's given too much away. "Maybe it's just because she's my sire, and I love her," Emily rationalizes and smiles. "Still… she's compelled me before, because I've asked her to, and it just- it feels like nothing in the world matters but making her happy. And that's pretty much all I want, anyway, so it- it doesn't bother me, when she uses her compulsion on me. I know she'd never make me do something I wouldn't want to do, anyway."
And Aubrey has never felt the full power of Beca's compulsion – not really. She's never felt it directed at her; only around her, and she suddenly thinks maybe that Emily could be right.
Aubrey thinks maybe that it probably could be easier to show Beca how she feels if she is forced to, rather than build up the courage to do it herself.
Author's Note: I wanted Emily and Aubrey to bond, just a little but I also wanted to continue broadening Aubrey's view of Beca and Vampires, as a whole. Let me know how I did, please? Also, this is unedited; my three-year anniversary with my girlfriend is tomorrow, and I wanted to post this for you in case I don't have time to write. Sorry for any mistakes, but let me know about them and I'll definitely find time to fix it up a little, later!