Emmie blinked, not understanding. "Reach in the drawer and get my kit," Deidara commanded. For once, she didn't argue and did as she was told. Turning on the light, she examined him. He looked bad: pale and sweaty, he couldn't stop the tremors as they ran through his body.
"Load the syringe, 20 mL," he ground out. 10 less than last time, Emmie noticed. He really was trying to get clean. Emmie nodded, grabbed the tourniquet and injected him. The second she hit the plunger, Deidara relaxed. His breathing evened out and his eyes closed. Disposing the needle, she returned to him. Emmie ran a hand across his forehead, feeling more than a little guilty. While she ran off feeling sorry for herself, he took up dangerous ways to numb himself. What if she never left that night? How would things be different?
Deidara leaned into her touch contently. "What are you thinking about?" he asked lazily. ''What would happen if I never left? You wouldn't be doing all this," she said guiltily, her lip trembling.
"Yeah probably not. But I wouldn't have cleaned up my act and went back into art. You're my muse, without you as my inspiration, I couldn't come up with anything." Deidara lurched towards her and buried his face into the front of her Natori pajamas. Automatically, she put her arms around him and stroked his soft hair. They laid there for a while, Emmie half reclined and Deidara, happily entangled with her. Emmie's lids felt heavy. She was lulling herself to sleep with the way she rhythmically ran her fingers through his hair.
"I would've asked you to marry me," Emmie heard him whisper into her chest as she fell asleep.
In the morning, Emmie woke up cold and alone. Spreading out on the bed selfishly, she realized uncomfortably that Deidara was actually a good bed partner. He didn't move that much or hog the covers. Sitting up, Emmie realized that she liked sleeping with Deidara. A lot. To the point where she didn't want to wake up alone anymore. But what he said last night. Nope, she wasn't going to touch that with a 10 foot pole.
Yawning, she stretched and went to the bathroom to clean up. Once done, she changed into a white St. Laurent tee, houndstooth trousers, and a pair of Nicholas Kirkwood loafers and went out to find Deidara ambling around, making coffee. Accepting a mug from him, she took a sip of the rich, bitter beverage. "What now?" he queried. Emmie tucked a hair behind her ear, "Well, I go to work and then we go to the club tonight." Looking at him hard, she asked, "You're going to stay clean right?"
Throwing her a mock salute, Deidara smiled cockily, "Yup. Aren't you glad you stayed last night? It could've been so much worst without you." Emmie rolled her eyes and left, "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Deidara called to her retreating back. Emmie walked a little faster.
Night fell and Emmie found herself outside Deidara's door wearing the dress he choose for her at Haku's shop so long ago under a caramel colored Burberry trench coat. Before knocking she wondered what was going to happen after they wrapped things up. Could she actually cut him out of her life? Would Kabuto be enough to fill the lonely parts of her the way Deidara did?
Before she could make up her mind, Deidara opened the door, "Figured, you'd be late, let's go," Emmie took his arm and they were off to Frission.
Entering the dank and smoky room, Emmie immediately felt sweat build on her body. The club was as disgustingly crowded and smelly as the last time she was there. Truly, a place of vice and sin, she thought, watching as people do illegal substances, grind nastily, and hookers, flashing their goods, trying to entice Deidara. A surge of possessiveness made her hold his arm a little tighter and press a little closer. Deidara ignored them and headed towards the back. He knocked on the door and Slim Jim, the same man from before opened the door and showed them in.
Inside, Deidara asked the hackers to trace the hit while Emmie waited impatiently at the door shifting on her cheap stripper platform heels. There was no way she was wrecking her expensive foot wear in this dump, Emmie watched disdainfully through the blinds as a drunkard vomited his dinner onto the bar. Finished, Deidara led her outside to wait. They went to the same semi-secluded booth as last time. This time, Emmie sat down in Deidara's lap without any prompting.
"Would you let me do a bump off your tits while we wait?" Deidara said suddenly. Emmie who was lost in thought pulled back to the present to ask incredulously, "What?" Unconcerned, Deidara asked, "What about your ass then?" He placed a small baggie of cocaine on the table. She turned in his lap to face him. "Absolutely not. You're getting clean remember? How did you get cocaine anyhow?"
Deidara rested his chin on her shoulder smiling, "Now you're paying attention, I was getting bored."
"You're insufferable,"
"Jokes on you. I don't know what that means. What are you thinking about?"
Emmie shuddered, "I hate this place. The women are glaring daggers at me and the men are eyeing me like a piece of meat." A pretty blonde bartender appeared with shots of liquor, smiling at Deidara while completely ignoring Emmie. She looked flirtatiously at him while stuffing the bills down her ample cleavage.
Feeling another inexplicable wave of possessiveness, Emmie put an arm around Deidara's shoulders, toying with his long golden hair. With her other hand, she passed him his shot. His attention fully on her, the bartender scowled darkly at Emmie who returned it with a victorious smile.
"See? They hate me," Emmie said while scanning the room, spotting yet more women glaring at her. "Aw, Tsunade didn't mean anything, she and the rest of the girls here don't think you belong," Deidara said carelessly.
"Darn right, I don't belong. This place is a dive," she sniffed. Deidara ran a finger down her bare arm and Emiliana had to repress a shiver of pleasure. "Nah, it's like you act like you're better than this place. That's not what I meant," he paused in thought. "You look and act too classy for this dump. The way you drink, the way you hold yourself, you belong to a different world. You're dressed like a damn strip-o-gram but there's no way you can be mistaken as a stripper or a whore," he explained, continuing his run down her arm.
Emmie blinked at his unintended compliment but was saved from an awkward silence when a stranger passed their table, dropping off a piece of paper while snatching up the remaining shot of liquor and the bag of coke. "That's our cue," Deidara grunted and slid Emmie off of his lap. As she exited in front of him, he gave her ass a slap, earning himself Emmie's frosty glare and several high fives.