AN: *whisper deliberately* H... i... i... Hi! H... ow... How are you doing? Ah, don't hurt me! *hide*
I give you my biggest APOLOGY (see? so big) for the wait. I just wanted to rewrite this chapter because ideas kept haunting my mind. I almost let my laziness win and update my old chapter but yeah. I won.
Just so you know, this chapter might NOT be worth the wait. I mean it. And I'm so sorry for that. Hope it doesn't disappoint you guys too much because it could not reach your expectations.
Sometimes I wondered if anyone of you happened to, you know, post review on the wrong story? I mean... they are all too sweet to be mine. *tear*
Though I really want to make small weekly chit chat with inesd, chxndelier, sabooian, Ramona, dahliadaria, S.A and guests, I won't. If I were you, I probably would set myself on fire for rambling too much... while making you wait for too long. Yupe. *whisper* we can talk next time.
I'm sorry for all mistakes, I'm sorry for the wait, what else? Oh, I'm sorry if this chapter disappoint you.
Thank you for all of your supporting. I know I have to work harder but you guys make me enjoy my work. I really appreciate this. Really.
You love Spemily and I love you.
Pretty Little Liars is not mine. If it's mine, you'll know. (Full of Spemily of course)
*whisper* I'm gonna be late in the future. Ah! Don't hurt me. *run*
Well, while Spencer's confession plan processing in her head, why don't we take a look at a normal day of our lovebirds' nest? Let me pick a random day for you guys. Ah, oh right, it was two weeks after Spencer's birthday…
The writer had an interview today and just drove her car away from that event, feeling a little annoyed for being kept there for too long. These people obviously were all terrible. They didn't see tons of subtle sentences Spencer said that implied she had to go home soon. They didn't care Spencer had to be with her favorite person. They didn't know Spencer had been missing her girl since the moment she left her house's door. Okay, they could stay in the dark for all of that but how could they completely ignored the fact that Spencer had a beautiful wife who was waiting at their cozy home? Well, at least Spencer wanted to believe Emily was waiting. The thought of the tanned girl waiting for her put a smile on the dorky writer's lips.
What are you doing now?
Using the long waiting time of the traffic light, the light brown eyes girl allowed herself to space out for a short moment. She repeated. Just a short moment. What was Emily doing? She probably would be reading a book. Maybe Spencer's book. Her favorite person would lay on that couch in the living room. Book in hand and forgot about her surroundings. Her eyes would be glowing when she got to the happy parts and came with that, a grin would creep onto her face. She would shift her position a bit to be comfortable before she started the page she worried that brought sadness to her favorite characters. She would whisper "asshole" when the villain did horrible things that affected good characters. Sometimes, she would throw her fist on the air if the villain still hadn't been destroyed yet. By the time Emily reached her last page, Spencer would come through that front door. The dark brown eyes girl would sit up, close the book and put it on the table, smiling. Spencer would said "I'm home" and waiting for Emily to reply. And Emily's reply would be…
"DRIVE YOU FOOL! It's turned green for hours. I'll hit your car if you keep staying there."
Okay I swear, it wouldn't be Emily's reply. It was the guy who was behind the writer's car and apparently getting more anxious each second Spencer's car didn't move. The light brown eyes girl immediately snapped back to reality. She lately had a lot of zone out time like this. It was like a wonderland to be in when she was stress with work. And that jerk just ruined her fantasy right the moment it was about to get to the good part. The writer wanted to snap at him but looked like it wasn't just the guy who was angry. There was a long cars line honking like crazy after his car and that was a cue. A cue that Spencer should drive away as soon as possible. The girl mumbled.
"Okay, okay! Geez! When did thinking about your wife become illegal?"
As she was about to move her car, the writer changed her mind. She was still bitter about that good part being interrupted. The evil Spencer Hastings taking charge from now. Ignoring all of the yelling behind, Spencer waited for the green light turned into yellow and right at the moment it was about to turn red, Spencer drove away, laughing while hearing groans came from that poor guy and everyone in the line.
"See ya! Suckers!"
The light brown eyes girl's mood lightened up instantly because of the mess evil Spencer Hastings had made and of course, because the distance between her car and her house where had the tanned girl's presence was getting closer. Looking both sides of the street, a small shop caught Spencer's eyes. It was a flowers shop.
Flowers?
Does Emily like flowers?
Which flower does she like?
Is it weird if I buy her flowers?
What if she doesn't like it?
What if it's weird?
What if…
Okay, thinking no more, her wheel had already turned less than a minute ago and her car was now parking in front of the flowers shop. Spencer stepped out of the car and was greeted by an old nice lady.
"Hi little girl! What are you looking for?"
"Hi, I'm looking for flowers to give my wife."
"Aw, how sweet! Do you need my help?"
"I think I'll look by myself first. I want it to be personal."
The old lady smiled, came back to her previous work, leaving Spencer some space to pick out her favorite. And kids, you're witnessing one of the toughest decisions in our incredible writer's life. She had no idea which one would be the perfect choice for Emily. She didn't even know if Emily liked flowers. But if she did like flowers, this would bring a smile to her face. And that was enough reason for Spencer to keep cracking her brain to pick the right one. Emily was beautiful. Calla lily means beautiful. Maybe she should choose it. Emily was also lovely. Camellia means perfect loveliness. Maybe she should choose it. Emily was also innocent. Freesia means innocence. Maybe she should choose it. Emily was also modest and faithful. Violet means modesty and faithfulness. Maybe she should choose it. But Emily also brought her happiness. Emily was happiness. And that was why lily of the Valley suited her too. Hell, she should buy all of them. Or she should buy Emily this shop. That would be easier. Then something hit her. She was buying Emily flowers. She was finding the one that fit Emily. But it was hard. Because Emily was everything. Emily wasn't one simple thing that could easily be described by a kind of flower. Emily was the one who could turn Spencer's life into a new direction. A good direction. Yes, choosing flowers based on her was a mistake. So the writer dropped it. She didn't choose flowers based on Emily anymore. This time, it based on her.
And that was why the light brown eyes girl now tiptoeing into the kitchen with a bunch of roses hiding behind her back. Six roses.
"Emily."
"Oh, you're home? Lunch is ready. I'm just making empanadas from my mom recipe. Let's hope it's… eatable."
"Ooookay! Quick question, do you like flowers?"
"Yes, why you asked?"
"Be… cause…" Taking her hiding hand from behind out, Spencer raised those flowers in front of Emily, smiling. "These are for you."
The light brown eyes girl held her breath, didn't want Emily to freak out because of this strange gesture. To her surprises, the coffee shop owner didn't react by any negative action. After seeing the flowers in the writer's hand, Emily slowly took them, brought them close to her nose. The sense immediately stretched a smile on her lips, her face brightening. Touching a rose petal, Emily's eyes softened.
"They're beautiful. Thank you."
Adorable. The girl's smile. It was adorable. Watching the process of an Emily's smile was always Spencer's favorite. But this smile was even created by Spencer herself. There was no word that could express her feeling right now. It was like someone had turned up the heat in the writer's heart. She wanted to bite her lips but also wanted to roll on the floor or crawl into her comfy blanket. She didn't know why she want to do that. It was pretty crazy but the longer she stared at those lips, the weaker her brain felt. Before her heart pushed that pause button to stop her brain's function, Spencer felt the need to explain this unusual gesture. She lied.
"There's a flowers shop near our house and it barely had customers. I just wanted to make the first purchase in the day from that old lady. I'm glad you like it."
Damn it, Spencer. You shouldn't have added that last sentence.
Well, let's say our writer was lucky. Emily didn't hear that. Frankly, she didn't hear anything Spencer had said. The fact that Spencer just bought her flowers had brainwashed her mind. All she could hear now was the sound of her heart dancing with the gift. All she could see now was the most beautiful roses she had ever received. All she could feel now was the soft petals of each flower. And all she could do now was… nothing. Nothing. She just stood there, smiling, staring and smiling again. Her hand touched those roses once more time. Six roses. The question left her lips without her permission.
"Six roses, why?"
That question was easy. Too easy for the light brown eyes girl to answer.
"They only had six roses left."
In case you couldn't tell, she lied. She wanted to say it out loud. She wanted Emily to hear it clearly. But she couldn't. Telling the meaning of those six roses now would crush her plan into pieces. She was definitely not going to risk it. She had to wait for the perfect time. The perfect time for that four words – sentence.
I wanna be yours.
The writer had left the kitchen to go back to her room. She needed to change her outfit into something comfortable at home. Meanwhile, our coffee shop owner was still staying at her position since the beginning. She had to finish her empanadas before enjoying her lunch. The gift Spencer had given took a little bit of her cooking time. But yes, she didn't mind. How could I tell? Well, maybe I'm a mind reader. Maybe I'm a psychic. Or maybe I just saw Emily was smiling like an idiot the whole time she trying to put her roses into a vase. Those roses were a little distracting. Emily couldn't focus on her work. Her hands was rolling the dough but her eyes kept glancing over them each second. I honestly don't think she was cooking. Though she kept rolling, rolling and rolling, the dough for her empanadas still remained the same. Well, they remained the same probably because her rolling pin hadn't touched even a small piece of it.
"What are you doing?"
The dark brown eyes girl jumped at the sound, broke her gaze with the vase, stuttered.
"Ro… rolling the dough."
"Are you sure?" Narrowing her eyes, the older girl asked.
"Ye… yeah."
"Are you okay? I could lay on the distance between your rolling pin and the dough. You barely touched it, not even rolled it."
Emily blinked, looked down at her work. Spencer was right. The dough was sitting lonely by itself in the furthest corner of her chopping – board while the rolling pin looking longingly at it. Okay she was imagining all of that but yes, she hardly did anything since the fragrancy of those flowers kept playing with her nose. It easily reminded her of the present from Spencer. As long as the roses was still in this room, she doubted she could finish her cooking or her function properly. The girl was dumbfounded, her mind was somewhere else but not in the kitchen.
Waiting too long for an answer, the writer walked to Emily's side, settled to help the girl with her rolling thing. Since the place was filled with foods and the coffee shop owner gave no attempt to move as side for the light brown eyes girl to start her help, Spencer had to figure a new way to put her hands on that rolling pin. She stepped behind Emily, reaching her hands out through the girl's hips and tried to touch the dough. It was a little too far so the writer had to step closer to the dark brown eyes girl, her front pushed against Emily's back and still getting closer if it was possible. At this close and their heights, Spencer felt it would be more comfortable if she placed her chin on the tanned girl's shoulder. And she did it. Putting the dough in the middle of the chopping – board, the older started to roll out it.
"See? You have to do this and this. The dough wouldn't get thinner by itself. I know you're good at this but I've read that recipe. It'll be perfect if it's about 0.3 centimeters thin and then…"
Spencer kept going on and on and on with her speech about empanadas, praising herself for finding a new reason to make Emily admire her more. On the other hand, those words didn't impress the younger girl. At all. She was now in trouble. And she was wrong. She was wrong for thinking that those roses was her biggest problem in this kitchen. The biggest problem was a Spencer who helping her making empanadas whilst standing at a really, really, really close distance. It felt like a hug from behind. A hug from Spencer. She could feel Spencer's heart beat regularly. She could feel Spencer's breath warmed her neck. She could feel Spencer's hands getting tighter around her hips after each roll. She almost hitched when Spencer moved and put her chin a bit higher on her shoulder. Closer to her face. She held her breath but eventually she had to let it out. She was struggling finding a way to breathe out without sounding like she had held it since forever. Her heart was such a tease. It beat fastened whenever Spencer's warm breath glided through her cheek. It was weird. Really weird. Because Emily was pretty sure she had no feeling for Spencer. Well, actually, she was pretty sure she wanted to have no feeling for Spencer.
Don't, Emily! Don't! You don't have feeling for Spencer. You don't.
Deeping in her struggles, Emily didn't notice the writer had stopped rolling that lonely dough for a while. Poor little dough! After a few rolls, Spencer could feel the younger girl breathing tensely in her arms. The writer stopped and was about to check if the girl was okay but then she suddenly had her answer. Of course Emily was not okay. Spencer had been practically hugging her for minutes. The light brown eyes girl knew the reason now but she was sure she didn't want to move away and make Emily feel better. In fact, she was… enjoying it. She had never watched Emily this close. Well, when both were awake. Spencer swore the helping thing started with a very, very, very innocent purpose. She just wanted to help. That was all. But obviously, things getting less and less… innocent each microsecond. As the coffee shop owner gulped nervously while dealing with her breathing problem, that action drew the writer's attention to Emily's neck. It looked like it was made from velvet and was inviting to be stroked. Spencer's eyes moved a little to catch the sight of Emily's cheek. There it was, Spencer's all time weakness, a blushing Emily. Then her eyes decided to stop at the girl's lips. Yeah, no need to describe. She could tell her brain was shutting down slowly. She could tell her heart was smiling triumphantly. She knew her heart was about to win. She wanted to kiss her so bad. She wanted to kiss Emily's neck to feel how soft it was. She wanted to kiss Emily's cheek to feel how hot of those blushes were. And she wanted to kiss her lips. She knew she could feel everything from those lips but the thing she could feel the most and scare the most was how much she had been fallen for this girl. When the last part of Spencer's brain started to give up and her hands felt the need to do… stuffs, she woke up. The light brown eyes girl woke up from her desire. Emily was precious to her. Emily deserved better. She couldn't be reckless like this. She couldn't.
Stop it, you perv!
Wow, nice way to destroy the mood, Spencer. Knowing too well she would do something she was going to regret if she kept this position, the writer let go off Emily, walked away to create a safe distance and also to ease the heat in her body. Or in her heart. Or in her hands. Trying to act normal, putting on her calm face, Spencer spoke nonchalantly.
"I think we should give up on this empanadas. Just today though. I'm kinda hungry."
Didn't need to be offered a second time, Emily immediately nodded after letting a really long release sigh out. She already had a plan to make these empanadas at somewhere had an air conditioner. Or she could put one in this room. Too hot to function. This room. Not her. There was nothing to feel hot about. Nothing.
It was afternoon and strangely, everything still seemed pretty hot. I meant the weather. Or Emily herself. Or both. I don't even know. But yes, it felt hot inside the house and the coffee shop owner had the urge to wander around Spencer's garden. The garden was really simple. It didn't have flowers or ponds or fountains like others majestic villa. It all was covered by the green of trees and lawn. A lot of trees and a really big lawn that surrounded this whole house. If you were in the living room and looking through the glass wall, your mind would be enticed to dream about how soft it was if you were laying on that nature mat. Well, actually only if you were dreaming about it three months ago. It was withered a little now. Back then, Spencer loved to water them herself. It was like a way for her brain or her heart discovered some muses that could become best ideas for her own books. The light brown eyes girl had stopped doing that since she got married. The lawn didn't blame her though. Those trees didn't blame her though. Nobody or anything blamed her. I meant how could you blame her? She just followed her muse. Before Emily, it was out here. After that, well, "muse" was usually in the house. More particular, "muse" was often found on the couch in living room or in the kitchen. And now, the "muse" was out here again. Emily felt sorry for the lawn and those trees. No, she didn't know "the muse" back story and how often Spencer used to enjoy her time here. She just loved to see that healthy green around the house again. So it was settled then. The girl decided to bring back this garden's lives.
Emily grabbed one of the hosepipes near those taps in the middle of this garden. The dark brown eyes girl started to sprinkle water here and there. As the green of the lawn was refreshing, the smell of soil quickly took over the place. It was really nice to have a house like this. You could live in a modern world and still have a chance to mingle yourself with mother Earth. The choice of this place could tell something about Spencer. She was smart. Really smart. Her mind was beyond anyone you could imagine. By that, you could address her as a modern girl. But that didn't mean she was those girl that always followed the modern lifestyle. She had a unique classic beauty that no one could have. As if she was someone who just walked out from a beautiful hundred years old painting. Her appearance matched her soul really well. She had an ancient soul. Some could say she was older than her ages. Some could say she had lots of experiences. It didn't matter who was right, Emily just love it. Spencer's soul. It was strangely peaceful whenever the coffee shop owner had a chance to "touch" it. Like she was hearing hours of soothing and relaxing music. Yes, she loved her soul. And no, loving someone's soul didn't mean you loved them. Right? Maybe it was right. Maybe it was not. Whatever you want, Emily.
The girl smiling with her new found excuse. An excuse that led her away from the thought of loving Spencer. Or she was smiling about the thought of Spencer. Ask her, I don't know. But one thing I know is that the writer was watching our lovely coffee shop owner from where Emily had taken her hosepipe.
Told ya, Spencer loved to follow her "muse".
The older girl didn't know why but she found Emily had a lot of potentials to be teased. Probably because of her eyes. They always looked sheepishly elsewhere when she was shy. Or her lips. They always pulled on that coy smile when, well, like right now. Or her actions. Not like Spencer, the tanned girl usually let her heart win. All the time. All the things. Except the thing with Spencer. She was letting it win again. Spencer could see it. She pretty sure the grasses where Emily was watering were swimming in joy, and possibly was about to drown too. Saving the grasses and messing with her favorite person were on the writer's wish list now. And she was going to archive them. The light brown eyes girl bit her lips, started to water too. But not the lawn. She watered… Emily.
Our poor coffee shop owner jumped at the sudden feeling of water on her face. She looked around to find a smirking writer was standing not so far from her. Yeah, not so far. Almost close. Close enough to bring up her revenge. Let's say that Spencer's mission of saving those grasses had completed. She just got new mission now. Actually, she got new problem. Emily had totally forgotten her previous target. Her attention and of course her hosepipe was headed to Spencer's direction. In case you don't know, when Emily wanted to revenge, she made it big. The writer was now looking like she just came out of the pool. Her clothes wetted, her hair stuck to her face, dripping.
"You're so dead to me, Emily."
"What? You started it." The girl trying hard not to laugh, a sly smile crept onto her face.
Sounded like she was losing. Spencer Hastings didn't like to lose. She had to pay back. Pointing her hosepipe to her favorite person, Spencer squeezed the head tube so that water would eject stronger. The dorky writer laughing evilly out loud while seeing the other girl now looked exactly like her.
"Yesss! She shoot. She scored."
It was weird. Emily could see a star at this time of the day. The star was shining brighter than ever. She couldn't remember the last time she saw Spencer this happy. She couldn't remember the last time Spencer laugh this cheerful. Maybe she hadn't seen those time at all. This scene struck her. The writer's laugh sounded so genuine. Her smile reached her eyes without trying even just a little bit. And those light brown eyes seemed… lighter than before. It was pure happiness. And Emily was glad. She was a tiny part of the happiness Spencer was having. She assumed she was just a tiny part though. But yes, that was enough for her. She could feel her heart fluttered with each sound came from the older girl's lips. She found herself falling into that hole again. Trouble.
No.
Sensing a way to reach victory, the light brown eyes girl attacked our coffee shop owner again. Dripping hard from the big attack, the poor girl put as side her confused thoughts, made her way to steal the trophy from Spence. The younger girl continued her pointless enterprise. She had to fight to the death and bring proud to her name. Okay I exaggerated it but if anyone knew about this, the following day would have an article on newspapers said that there was a big cold war in the Hastings. Literally though.
As both of them were enjoying their childish time and no one bothered to wonder when this war would end, Emily sneezed. That was it. She had to surrender. What? No, not Emily. Spencer had to surrender. Her favorite person would get a cold if she kept this war going. She just had this tiny little conflict between her heart and her mind.
You had enough fun time.
Not really enough but yeah, I know.
She may catch a cold.
I know.
You should stop the war.
I know.
You should surrender.
I don't know.
What?
It sounds weak, I don't want to be weak.
Okay, so Emily or your pride?
I need my pride for Emily, I want both.
I hate you, brain.
I know.
Okay, Spencer needed a therapy. Yeah. Or maybe she just needed Emily. Anyway, we all know the writer was smart. She didn't disappoint us. She had figured out a way to stop the water fight and still not be a loser. The light brown eyes girl dropped her hosepipe, pretended looking around and spotting the dirty glass walls. Faking a slightly annoying face, Spencer jerked her chin to the walls, spoke loudly.
"You sprinkled all over the glasses."
"You did too." Emily dropped her weapon, started a new kind of fight.
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"You know what? I did. Now clean it." The older gave up with this silly fight, for the first time knowing she was too old for this.
"Why do I have to clean when you did wet it too?" And the younger girl was still young enough to keep this fight going.
"Because I have trees to irrigate."
"Why don't you clean the glasses and I irrigate the trees?"
"Too many questions. My house, my rules. Now clean it, woman!"
And that was how you end a fight with Emily. Just reasoned with her. This was obviously Spencer's house. The rules in the contract was also Spencer's rules. She lost this fight. The girl obediently took a wiping cloth near the taps, slowly wiped the glass walls dry. Meanwhile, the writer crossed her arms, didn't let her favorite person lose this easily.
"You missed a spot."
"Where?"
"A little to the left."
Emily moved left.
"Nope, a little to the right."
Emily moved right.
"Higher."
Emily stood on tiptoe.
"Lower."
Emily got mad. Turning her back, she was about to snap at our teasing writer.
"Damn it, Spencer. Would you just…"
Spencer was not standing at where she was minutes ago. She was now right in front of Emily. The tanned girl hitched, speechless. Spencer placed her hands on the wall behind Emily's head, smirking. The dark brown eyes girl's breathing problem coming back again. It even got worse when the older flicked her eyes to her lips. Emily was sure she didn't want to see this. She didn't want to see the moment her brain gave up. She knew Spencer was just teasing her. She shouldn't show any sign meant she… liked it. If Spencer knew she liked it, she would know she liked it too, she would admit she liked it. Not going to happen. The only way to not show any sign was pretending she didn't feel anything. How to do that? She clenched her eyes closed tightly. Yeah, a very… Emily solution.
Spencer saw that. She also found it… kissable. The light brown eyes girl leaning in. As the distance getting closer, she took her left hand off the wall, moved it lower along Emily's side. Lower. Lower. Lower. The moment their lips was about to touch, Spencer's hand reach it. She took it from Emily. Oh, almost forgot. "It" was the wiping cloth, you know, the thing you used when you cleaning. Hope my bad memory didn't make you misunderstand "it" with anything else. Yeah, hopefully. The writer walked as side, cleaning the spot that was supposed to be dirty though I swear it was even cleaner and brighter than my future.
"This spot right there. Can't believe you didn't see it."
Our lovely coffee shop owner letting out a release sigh. Or maybe a disappointed sigh. Or both. For a brief moment, she thought they were going to kiss. She could tell she actually was waiting for their lips to touch. But at the same time, she was also praying that that kiss would never happen. They were just in this for six months and now she only had four months left. Her heart had just been healed. And how ironic when Spencer was the one who healed it. She couldn't let Spencer also be the one who opened that wound again. She didn't want to hate Spencer. Frankly, she wanted the opposite. But she couldn't.
Glancing over at the girl next to her, though she wasn't sure what Emily was thinking, Spencer knew she had made a right decision. Not kissing Emily was a right decision. The tanned girl was her treasure. She had to make it big. She had to make it right.
I'm gonna kiss you legally next time. I promise.
AN: Tell me what you think?