AN: Hey there! :) *inserts it's been 84 years gif* Hahaha. Haha. Ha... Um... sorry, sorry. It's not funny. I've spent too much time on Tumblr.

Anyway, this is a new chapter with still low quality. I'd rewritten it more times than I remember but still don't really like it. Yet, I feel guilty for making you guys wait for so looooong (see? so long) that most of you have moved on. I would too if I had to wait for a story like this. But I still love you no matter what. You all are in my Spemily Army list. Someday we will conquer the world.

And hey, I really love it when some of you came up and told me where you came from. So, hello India, Peru, France and some too shy to tell. :) I also want to thank the readers who reminded me to update. I mean... I can't believe there's someone waiting for this. I wish I could reply to all of you but I think you don't like long Author's note so just PM me if you like.

It would be great if you can point out my mistakes. My English still sucks. Thank you all for your patience and kindness. I'm so grateful for that.

Since I'm late (like always), I brought two small apology gifts which is two other stories. *groans from readers* "Nooooooo". Okay, sorry, don't read it.

Pretty Little Liars is not mine. If it's mine, you'll know. (Full of Spemily of course)

That Sunday was a beautiful day. Somehow, the sun seemed to shine brighter and the birds' song seemed to sound happier. Nothing could compare with this when she woke up and being welcomed by those things combined with the smell of morning coffee. Of course, not to mention that she didn't have to go for work. How wonderful that was! Seemingly, this wasn't all of it. She followed the smell of those delicious coffee cups which she would eventually enjoy with a surprise breakfast.

And well, the scene in front of the eyes had never failed to amaze the viewer.

Standing in the kitchen was the one she loved. She didn't know how but there was something about Emily that brought others the feeling that she was shining. That was weird though. On a Sunday morning, people normally didn't give much effort to dress up for anyone to admire. Emily was not an exception. The brunette just walking around the place in a big white shirt and a black short while her hair was tied up in a bun. Yet, she couldn't help but staring longingly at her.

Emily Fields was too amazing. How did she get so lucky? A girl like her with a girl like that? There might be something wrong with the world. Or there might be something wrong with Emily. Oh, the possibility of that scared her. No, it couldn't be. She swore she could never find someone like Emily that could love her this much. She also didn't want to find that person anyway. She wanted this person. She wanted Emily.

She was deeply in love. But she weirdly wasn't scared of loving someone this time. Emily would never leave her. Emily had been sticking with her since she was still a problem. She was not a problem now. What a relief! Oh, and she would never leave Emily either. That would be the most insane thing she had ever done. And probably the stupidest.

No, never.

The thoughts somewhat had a slight effect on her. The thoughts of leaving each other. She needed to find some assurance from that amazing girl. She needed to ease her silly mind. The girl stepped forward, hugged Emily from behind and as a habit, burying her face into Emily's neck. Emily smelled so good. So intoxicating. So captivating. It started to blur her view. All she could do now was craving to get more of it. She wished she could taste it to figure the secret behind Emily's charm. She wished she could taste it to make others who couldn't have Emily jealous. And she did. Her lips gently placed on the back of Emily's neck then slowly moved a little further. Just to touch her jawline and feel the sharp of that beautiful creature. Her lips went along her face to end up wandering around her ear. The girl bit it teasingly but obviously wasn't teasing at all. Her hands found their way to go under Emily's shirt and before it could go… places, Emily raised her voice sheepishly.

"Ali! I'm cooking."

"So…?" Alison replied, resting her chin on Emily's shoulder.

"And you're distracting me." The tanned girl looked over her shoulder, unintentionally letting her lips almost touched Alison's, almost, responded.

The icy blue eyed girl could barely breathe. She felt butterflies flying crazily in her stomach as she kept staring absentmindedly at the taller girl's lips. They looked so soft. Like clouds. And Alison knew they felt like clouds too. One thing she didn't know was the taste of them. She had kissed her countless times but the blonde never actually paid enough attention to figure out their flavor. Well, she couldn't pay attention. There were times that Alison purposely prepared her mind to find out that mystery but she failed every single one. The moment their lips touched, Alison hardly remembered who she was. How could an innocent girl brainwash her mind just by a simple touch, on the lips? How could she keep letting this happen? How could she only feel joy and excited instead of unpleased? Emily was full of secrets and she didn't even know about that herself. She just assumed that Emily didn't have those on purpose. She was just Emily being Emily. Her sweet Emily.

"Ali?" The tanned girl asked curiously, noticing Alison's too – long pause.

The mind spoke up for her, sounding more seductive than she expected.

"Yes, Beautiful?"

Emily grinned coyly, avoiding eyes contact.

The DiLaurentis girl seemed really enjoy the scene. She loved Emily's reactions whenever she received any kind of compliments. It whether made Alison want to kiss those blushes on Emily's cheeks or capture her lips and take away her breath in the most vehement way. There was no between. As Alison was looking amorously at the shy girl and considering her options, Emily glanced at her for a brief moment, said quietly.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" She mindlessly questioned, eyes still studying the girl's beauty.

Emily lowered her head for a second then turned to face Alison again, shrugging, spoke mildly.

"Like I'm important, like I'm your everything." The brunette looked down at her hand, a dark shadow covered her face and took away all the brightness. "I'm not yours, you know?"

Alison's world stopped for a really long moment. For an actress, she understood that the surroundings played a major role on reflecting the character's emotion but this was ridiculous. She could tell someone had purposely turned off some of the lights in this kitchen. She could tell all the birds had shut up or gone like they had never been there singing for her. And just like in any movie, she could tell this was the moment of silence where the character received a bad news. Ridiculous. This couldn't happen to her. Her life was perfect. She had a successful career. She had someone loved her. She had everything.

No. This couldn't be that "bad news" moment.

Maybe Emily was just messing with her.

Yes, definitely.

In order to make sure of that, our talented actress forced a weak smile, trying to figure Emily's meaning behind those words.

"Em, what're you talking about? We're good, right? I mean why are you saying that?" She held Emily's hand, tugged the girl a little to full facing her. Her voice got higher. "I don't like this kind of joke. Don't ever talk like this again!"

"Apparently…" The coffee shop owner had opened her mouth to speak but the voice which was echoing in the room surely wasn't hers. Alison turned to the door just to see Spencer approaching them, said loudly on her way. "She wasn't joking. She was yours. And now,…" Our incredible writer linked her fingers with Emily, led her to stand by her side, triumphantly added. "…she's mine."

Completely confused, Alison didn't know how to react. One minute ago, everything was fine and nice and perfect. Then Spencer appeared from nowhere and ruined it. Her world had turned upside down. She had to say something though. Keeping silence was still a sign of losing. She couldn't lose this battle.

Her eyes wide opened while the color of blood covered her face. The icy blue eyed girl raised her voice angrily, somewhat yelled at the writer.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY KITCHEN?"

"Well,…" Another person joined the conversation but it was neither Spencer nor Emily. Alison immediately looked at the voice's direction and absolutely perplexed to see Hanna was eating brownies at the table like she was there this whole time. The fashion designer flicked off some crushes on the corner of her lips, put down the napkin then finished her sentence. "…if you look carefully, you're in Spencer's house. And this obviously, is Spencer's kitchen."

Frowning, Alison took a look at the place and was lost. It actually was Spencer's place. It even had that freaking French quote on the wall.

"What the…" The words left Alison's lips lifelessly. Her surroundings didn't stop this time, it spinning round and round, waiting for her to fall.

"I told you." Aria appeared from behind, gently added up to the actress's crashed world. "It's too late for you and her."

Those words hit her hard. It brought her sanity back. It brought her the fact that Emily was married. But not to her. She had lost her chance. Now she had to concede what exactly had happened. She left Emily first. Emily had all the rights to be with Spencer. And Spencer legitimately had the girl. Alison admitted it. She was just jealous. Spencer was better than her. Spencer would be perfect for Emily. She had seen it in Spencer's eyes.

The fire. The passion. The sincerity.

She lost the battle.

Alison leaned on the counter to support her body which was being pressed under the weight of truth. She lifted her head, eyeing them, didn't intend to do anything.

And one thing caught her gaze.

While other girls staring at her judgingly, Emily's look was different. Her brows were frowning yet her eyes said nothing but sympathy. After everything she had done, Emily still treated her like a friend. She did get angry but she managed to stay friend, to heal Alison and Hanna's relationship. She owed Emily more than just a loan and a sorry. She could never find anyone that loved her more than this. She couldn't let her go.

"No!" Glaring at Aria, she breathed out. "It can't be. It's never too late for me." Alison flicked her eyes to the floor, seemingly talking to herself. "I can make her love me once, I can make her love me again. Yes, that's right. I can do that." The talented actress smiled at the thought of it then looked up at the writer with absolute confidence in her eyes, raised her brows, asked haughtily.

"You heard it, Spencer? She loved me first. You are just a second choice. Think about it! I got to her first. Yes, I'm not late. You are.

It's never too late for me.

NEVER."

…

Alison's eyes snapped open, the sound had just left her lips echoed through the silence of the night.

It was just three in the morning. Panting, the blonde sat listlessly on her bed. Little by little, all the details of her dream kept coming back to her mind.

The Alison in that dream was fearless. That blonde spoke the things she wanted to say and wanted to hear. That blonde was braver than her. The Alison now was just glad that this was just a dream. She didn't know how she could face Emily if that actually had happened.

While wide awake Alison was too pride to ever admit that Spencer had won, the girl in her dream had successfully put the thought into her mind. However, Alison couldn't help but feel some kind of hope still remaining in her heart. There was no way the actress could explain this.

Yes, she had come to Emily first.

Yes, if she had come home on the right time, Spencer would never have had the girl.

So what? That didn't mean anything. The girl in her dream had been too confident. Alison doubted that she could have the ability to make Emily love her again. After what she had done. After what she had made Emily been through. And after all the wonderful things Spencer had been fulfilling in Emily's life. How could she compete with that?

It was nearly impossible.

But what the hell was wrong with her heart? It was hoping she could stand a chance. How crazy her heart was! It made her want to laugh at its face if it had one. Was it blind? Didn't it see the way Emily looked at Spencer? Didn't it feel how much Emily cared for that freaking writer?

Stop it!

The heart ignored her demand. It kept going. It kept replacing Spencer's position with hers. It kept adding details into that beautiful picture. Emily was laying next to her. They would talk about everything in their day. How she had improvised a scene and impressed the director. How Emily had come up with a new menu for her coffee shop. And she would call Hanna to come over sometime. They would have double date whenever they didn't have work.

…

That sounded so nice. Alison almost gave up.

Please!

It was no use. Her heart went further with the help of her mind. They brought back the memories of the past. They mercilessly reminded Alison that she didn't regret enough, that the pain she had felt was just the top of an iceberg. Eventually, they rewound back to the best part. The part that now had the power to make the talented actress curl up into a ball and sob on her queen sized bed.

The scene from years ago was so vivid. She could even hear Emily's heart excitedly pounding, waiting for the answer. Her own voice sounded so different from now. Somehow mean, somehow teasing. But definitely happy. It was true. She was genuinely happy when she made that promise. The promise she couldn't keep.

"How about forever?"

Spencer got home drunk one night. That was the first time Emily had to wait for so long till she heard the doorknob clicked. The party Spencer had gone to six hours ago was supposed to end in less than two hours. Toby had left early for some work and didn't forget to inform Emily that Spencer would be at home by nine.

Toby was wrong.

Emily had been waiting anxiously in the living room. Her phone warming up when time went on and probably starting to hate her for keep using it to call that exact number more than twenty times. Of course, Emily couldn't care less about it and by the time the door opened, her phone landed back to the couch after a heartless throw from the owner. Emily ran over, felt like half of the burden was leaving her chest when the face behind that door was really Spencer's. The younger girl pulled the door wider to help Spencer step in but she just fell right in her arms, murmured some incoherent sentences. Emily had a hard time to carry that "seem to be asleep" writer to the couch. She had considered bringing Spencer to their room but it was upstairs and she was exhausted from worrying too much to do anything with this smart person's body.

As a tray of some wet towels, a water bottle and a glass was ready, Emily headed back to the living room, found it really lucky that Spencer could manage to get home in this condition without so much help. So many things could go wrong that night. What if Spencer didn't make it home? What if the guests at the party forgot about Spencer and didn't call a cab for her? What if the driver was a criminal? Emily shook her head to restraint her mind, sat on the ground in front of their couch, putting her head in one hand while looking at Spencer. Those thoughts scared her. She didn't know what she would do if anything happened to this woman. She didn't want to know anyway.

Before letting Spencer lay down, Emily had taken her coat off, knowing it would be more comfortable for her to sleep. Using those towels, she started to wipe Spencer's face, clean her neck, palms and hands. She folded one of them and placed it on our writer's forehead then took the rest back to the bathroom.

Emily went back quickly, still sat on the floor. She poured a full glass of water, just in case Spencer felt sore in her throat when she woke up. Her brows slightly frowned when she looked back at Spencer. Her head leaned against the couch, hand reached out to take the writer's and held it gently.

What's bothering you?

The question had been lingering in her mind when she knew how drunk Spencer was. It wasn't a fun party where people would drink until they passed out. She wasn't a person who would get wasted even when she knew someone was waiting for her at home. Spencer wasn't that type of person. So the more Emily thought about it, the more she felt unsettled. There must be something on Spencer's mind that led her in this mess. And that was weird because she was absolutely fine earlier that day. She even bought a gift for Emily with a simple reason along the line "I want you to have something that reminds of me".

Well, thinking about that, maybe she wasn't fine.

The dark brown eyed girl lately noticed Spencer had bought quite some stuffs with that same reason. Last week it was a snow globe with Eiffel tower in it. Two days ago it was a phone case, a matching one with Spencer's. And today it was a stuffed shark cause, you know, Emily's swimming team's mascot. Maybe she wasn't okay at all but she at least acted like she was until that night.

What happened at the party?

Emily let out a deep sigh, frustrated with the fact she couldn't solve this puzzle. She also didn't have enough energy for that anymore. It was too late at night and her brain had decided to leave all the thinking work for tomorrow.

First thing in the morning.

The sleepy girl mentally promised to herself as her eyes got heavier. Before they completely shut to let her enter the dream world where Spencer was happy and had no secret to hide, Emily tightened her hold on the girl's hand. It made her feel safe, knowing Spencer would still be there whenever she opened her eyes. Emily then slightly relaxed her shoulders, slipped to her dream land.

Everything went back to silent though it had never been too noisy. The room fell asleep after it made sure the owners had. Even the clock had found its way to tick quieter. The Moon had covered itself in some fluffy clouds so that its light couldn't be too harsh.

Everything was so peaceful.

For five minutes.

The incredible writer sat up out of the blue, eyes closed, her demanding voice violently cracked the silent night.

"EMILY!"

The sober girl snapped her eyes open. Her heart felt like it was swinging in and out her chest, her mind still hadn't found the turn on button, making Emily clueless for a good five seconds. Her head turned left then right, trying to capture the situation but it wasn't until Spencer raised her voice once again that got Emily back to this planet.

"Emily? Where're you? Emily?" She sounded almost panic.

Our lovely coffee shop owner finally looked up to see an eyes closed Spencer, reaching her hands out in every direction, shouting the name. Emily stood up immediately, catch Spencer's arms to calm her.

"I'm here, Spencer. I'm here." As she spoke, Emily rubbed their hands together, making sure the light brown eyed girl knew her existence.

Our dorky writer stopped shouting instantly, panting then slowly unclosed half of her eyes. She then smiled coyly when she saw Emily, probably wasn't drunk anymore.

"Hellooooooooooooo, Emily."

Nope, nope, still drunk. Still. Drunk.

Emily's eyes widened in surprise and amusement. Chuckling, she used one hand to hold Spencer's and placed it above her chest while the other caressed her cheek.

"Hi, Spencer." She said, her grin getting wider, almost reached her tired eyes.

The incredible but not – so – sober writer took both her hands back to cup around Emily's face. She pouted, gently shook Emily's head from left to right, fondling her cheeks.

"Aww, there you are. I've been looking for you all night. Where have you been?" The drunken girl asked, seemed kind of upset.

Emily smiled lovingly, fixing a stray of hair behind Spencer's ear, letting the warmth of Spencer's palms take over her face. Though she was really tired and ready to sleep, she answered patiently, showed no sign of irritation.

"I'm here this whole time. Where have you been?"

"I was…" Stopped in middle sentence, Spencer laughed goofily, clutched Emily's shoulder tightly to stand up. "…at a party." She burst out in laughter again, weaving on her own feet.

Emily's smile faded away as Spencer slowly and staggeringly making her way to the center of the room. Her hands kept stretching out, afraid that the older girl would fall any minute. Something didn't seem right. The writer was smiling, laughing but Emily sensed something different. Her laughs were dry and the light in her eyes never twitched with cheeriness. As the coffee shop owner attempted to help her stand steadily, Spencer stepped away, kept a certain distance with her favorite person. Her action sent a sinking feeling to Emily's stomach. The poor girl gulped, trying to hold her lips upward then asked cautiously.

"Was it fun?"

"Yeahhhhh, it was really,… really fun." She waved her hand, chuckled while moving backward.

Emily's heart skipped a beat when Spencer almost flipped over at a step near the piano. Her hands had reached out but knowing better this time, she eventually took her hands back, rubbing them against her shirt. She walked along the place with a reasonable distance, never wanted to make Spencer uncomfortable with her being too close.

When her back hit the piano, Spencer blurted out an "oops" with a smile that wasn't wide enough to reach her eyes, continued.

"Everybody was there."

"Yeah?" Emily asked, probably didn't mind the answer. She raised her palm to wipe her forehead which she didn't know was covered with sweats.

"Yeah. The crew, the cast, the press, Toby, Alison. Everybody." Spencer's eyes slowly blinked as she looked at the floor. The chuckle was now just a small sound in her throat. "You should've been there."

"…"

"They would love your presence."

"…"

"She would love your presence."

"She?" Emily spoke again, still a question. Her step getting closer to Spencer without both of them noticing it.

The writer leaned her head on the piano, looking to her right where placed a tiny Eiffel tower from Emily's collection. She reached out her hand and took it then totteringly found her way to sit on the floor, leaning her body against the piano's leg.

"Yeah." She said after contemplating the tower for a long moment.

"Spen…"

"You two had a jar for Paris." The light brown eyed girl raised her voice, eyes fixed on the tower, seemingly lost in someone else's world. "Every day after work, you put exactly a dollar and fifty cents in it. She said you liked building up things for bigger future. She said you were really good at your job. The best cup of coffee you had ever made was a cup of Cappuccino. Not Americano. She said you loved writing. Sometimes poem, sometimes short story. She said you wanted to be a writer. And you gave up your dream for her. She said you made her a better person…"

"Spencer, don't…" Emily's attempt to speak once again being stopped by Spencer. She didn't know what to say though. Her heart had slowed down and quitted its job as Spencer's speech went on. A painful feeling tightened around her throat when she knew she had to say something but at the same time couldn't find the words. Her lips confused itself, tremblingly kept opening and closing without purpose. She was so close to fall if Spencer didn't continue and drive her mind away.

Not really.

"They love it, Emily." She looked up to meet Emily's tearful gaze yet couldn't see through her half – closed eyes. "Everyone loves it. They want Alison to find you at the end. They want you two to be together. You know, they are dying to know who Alison's woman is. Who after five fucking years the amazing Alison DiLaurentis hasn't given up finding. Who once was her everything."

The dark brown eyed girl didn't know how to response. Frankly, she didn't know what was happening. Why was Spencer talking like this? Yes, she was drunk but why? Emily thought they were all good about this. She thought those were just memories in the old days. She thought they were living a new life. How did her past come back and keep haunting her life and the person she loved? They couldn't have had any effect on her new life by now.

Yes, they couldn't have. That was impossible. Maybe Spencer was just drunk and having some bad thoughts. Maybe Spencer would be fine when she was sober. Maybe…

"You seem happier when you were with her."

A sentence with less than ten words broke Emily's fragile heart. She rushed over Spencer's side.

"No, no, no. Spencer! That's not true. That's…" Tear rolled down her cheek after pooling in her eyes. The girl left her sentence unfinished, wrapped her arm around the writer and held her palm tightly, using her thumb to caress the back of it.

Emily should have said "not true" once more. The words had already been on the tip of her tongue, waiting for her to blurt out. But she hadn't. Why? Because that would be a lie. Because even Emily herself didn't know if she was happier with Spencer or with Alison. Yes, she loved Spencer. But what she was going through with Spencer now had happened with her former lover. She couldn't say "no" when someone asked if Alison had ever made her happy. She couldn't say "no" without thinking when someone asked if she wanted to be back in that time but with different ending.

She just couldn't say it.

Five years and several months? That wasn't a fair competition. In fact, this was not a competition at all. Love was not a contest for people to win. And Emily right there was not a judge who had the power to adjudicate who was the best. This one or that one? Please, no. She believed the world didn't always work like what people assumed it should.

So yeah, she saved those words, finding new way to comfort Spencer. Unfortunately, her train of thoughts moved quite slowly that moment due to her tiredness. While Emily was considering what she should say next, Spencer rested her head on Emily's shoulder, eventually hid her face under the younger girl's neck. She closed her eyes, her voice quietly raised through the thickness of her throat.

"You know, I'm not scared of her."

Emily clamping her lips together to hold back whatever it was inside of her that was crying to escape. She kept rubbing Spencer's head, her hand tangled in her hair. The sober girl's chin trembled as she repeatedly assured the other.

"I know and you don't have to be, Spencer."

She shook her a little but the writer started to catch the sleep she should have had long ago though she wanted to say more. Before Spencer completely gave up her consciousness, her lips moved a little, trying her final effort to let her thoughts out. And though the words was no more than a whisper and could feel lighter than a wind, Emily heard it clearly without any disturb.

"I'm scared that I took you away from your happiness."

Spencer woke up the next morning, feeling a little dizzy. At least her head didn't hurt so badly though. Headache was her worst nightmare. Of course, right after zombies.

Our incredible writer squinted her eyes, rolled over on the sheet. Seemed like Emily had magically managed to bring the smart person's body through twenty eight stairs to get to their room last night. As her sight was getting clearer, Spencer pouted, wanted nothing more but to close her eyes right back and then try to open them again. Maybe, just maybe, if she did that enough, the next time she would see Emily sleeping peacefully next to her.

After tossed and turned for a few minutes, Spencer eventually got up, grabbed her phone to check the time. Wait, it was Emily's phone because Spencer's was probably still in her purse. Her grumpy face instantly transformed to a happier one the moment she saw the screensaver. It was her in front of a poster of Eiffel Tower with Emily kissing her cheek. Spencer totally forgot about that day. They had been out to celebrate Aria's new piece and while goofing on the way home, they took this silly picture. The smile was genuine. Both of theirs. Spencer's face brightened whilst looking at it.

Yet, it didn't last long. Another picture of Eiffel Tower flashed through her mind shut any delight in her heart up.

That small tower on the piano.

The Paris jar.

Party.

Alison.

Emily.

Happiness.

No.

Out of countless memories of wasted nights, her mind decided to remember last night's. The events of what happened came back like a flood and Spencer just wanted to invent a time machine to take back everything.

How could she say those things to Emily? Oh God, now she would think Spencer wasn't sure about their relationship, that Spencer still didn't have faith in her. Wait, how could she tell her Alison was her happiness? Damn it, what kind of a person she was? Definitely not the kind of loser. It was like she was telling Emily to go because she herself wasn't capable of making Emily happy. How could she let go this easily? If she didn't believe in herself, how could she expect Emily to believe in her?

Idiot.

You stupid idiot.

The stupidest stupid idiot in the world.

The dorky writer sighed, covered her face with both her palms as if she couldn't bring herself to look at the mess she just created last night. Maybe she shouldn't be that drunk anymore. Not without Emily's company.

Spending some little time in the bathroom, the light brown eyed girl then followed the smell of morning coffee to the kitchen. It was just in time Emily pouring some honey on Spencer's dish of pancakes. The coffee shop owner gently delivered a loving smile when their gazes met. Spencer was so into returning it she almost dismissed the bags under those dark brown eyes. Guilt was the only thing she could see clear through the mixture of emotions in her heart. It had been hours since last night and Spencer had no idea what kind of thoughts Emily could have while hearing her silly words. Possibly negative thoughts. Yeah, that was why the girl seemed sleepless. And it was all Spencer's fault. The writer wanted to set herself on fire. She felt like she deserved that. Things were going great between them. Well, at least from Emily's point of view when most of the – not – so – great things were hidden behind Spencer. Yet she ruined all of it last night. She just proved that this marriage was not what it looked like. To Emily.

"Come, you must be very hungry. Oh, here, drink some water before you eat. You drank a lot at the party." The tanned girl approached, placed a huge glass of water in Spencer's hand and led her to her chair. Our incredible writer quietly followed, obediently did what was told.

After brought her fork to her mouth for the third time, Spencer gulped down another sip of water. Her eyes wandered around the room indifferently then landed back on the person who sat on the opposite side.

"So…"

"Yeah?"

"Speaking of the party, I was…um pretty drunk last night." Spencer said, felt a bit sore in her throat.

"Yes you was. But don't worry, I took care of you also pretty well." Emily answered, blinked heavily yet the loving smile still remained there.

"Did I say something…?"

"Yes." Emily jumped in. "In your sleep, you told me the time you and Aria broke into your school to delete all the final exam results because she was failing Math and you needed better score to beat Melissa. I have to say I'm impressed. I thought if I had to hear this from someone, it would be Hanna. I didn't expe…"

"Anything else?" Spencer asked again, waiting for the right answer.

"Nope, nothing was near that interesting." And this was wrong.

"Even the one with Alison?" The writer raised her voice, sounded higher than she thought.

Emily stopped, looked away immediately. She had wished Spencer would remember nothing from last night and they could move on without looking back. She knew the wish was just her way to avoid problem but she couldn't help it. She wanted to enjoy this life as long as she could and didn't have to face any trouble. It was selfish. It was out of character. But things could went wrong if she tried to fix it. Why didn't she just pretend nothing had happened?

That was her plan A, though. Unfortunately, the girl didn't have a plan B so she just sitting there, avoided eye contact. Her left hand playing with her right one and her chin never kept up higher than her shoulders. Spencer left her seat, knelt down next to Emily's spot and grabbed her hands. She squeezed them gently, waiting for her favorite person to face her. And Emily mumbled when she did.

"I didn't want to mention it. At all, okay?"

"This is not okay, Em."

"Why not? Why can't we live like we already did before and care less about what she said?" The coffee shop owner protested, seemed more stubborn than she was.

"I don't care what she said." Spencer frowned, spoke quickly, emphasized the second word.

"Really? Then explain what that was last night! Why did you keep talking about how people loved me and her? Why did you feel the need to tell me what she told at the party? Why…"

"I WAS JEALOUS, OKAY?" The writer yelled, released Emily's hands and stood up. "I still am jealous."

"Spence…"

"I'm jealous of her. I don't give a crap about her story but she was with you. Look what you had together! I can write a book about you two and trust me when I say it's better than our book. The way she talked about you was sincere. I barely thought it was the same Alison who kept getting in my way. And you." She paused, licked her lips and exhaled slowly. "You were happy. Really happy. I know she didn't lie. Because if someone's happiness could make a person like her smile that wide, it would be yours."

"…"

"I'm jealous of whoever can make you happy." Spencer narrowed her eyes, her brows knitted.

The poor writer stared at the ground, waiting for any kind of come backs from Emily. Surprisingly, Emily didn't reply. Responded to Spencer were the sound of a chair being pushed back and the feeling of arms around her neck. Spencer hugged back instantly, clinging her palms onto the other's shoulders. Her face buried deep into Emily's morning hair.

"You idiot! When aren't I happy with you?" Emily whispered, mildly pulled back a little to view Spencer in the eyes. "Don't compare yourself with her. You two are different. The biggest difference is that she is my past, and you are my present. You're my gift. You're doing really great as a lover, a wife. It's not Alison's, it's my fault. I'm sorry for making you feel like you're not good enough and insecure. I'm sorry, Spencer."

As she finished, Emily pecked a kiss on Spencer's lips, surprised the dorky writer. One of her hand loosened, moved along Emily's body and pulled the girl closer when it stopped at her waist. The frown on her forehead was gone and Spencer's eyes were round again though the girl still managed to stay silent.

"Ali, she's here because she has works to do. You know how much she cares for her career. I think the story amuses the press so she's supposed to tell it interestingly. But whatever it is, please remember that I love you. In case you're still not sober completely, I repeat. I love Spencer Hastings, the writer, and the word happy isn't happy enough to describe the feelings when I'm with you, idiot." Emily gently consoled Spencer.

Little did she know, the room had two idiots. A dork who was clueless about pretty much everything and the one who knew too much. But maybe that was why this worked, right? That was why Emily admired her favorite writer so much that she left a space in her heart for her. That was why Spencer adored this lovely coffee shop owner enough to open her heart once again.

Spencer's confidence was back. She trusted Emily this time. Well, most of the time. If she said she loved her, then that must be the truth. If she said she was happy with her, then that couldn't be a lie. She had made her decision. No more worry about Alison. No more doubt about herself. Emily's words were her belief.

The writer's heart was full again. She pulled Emily even closer, buried her face deep in the girl's messy hair. Emily smelt like something she couldn't put into words. Spencer's heart peaked an unusual beat as her head moved a little lower to Emily's neck. The unexpected touch of her lips made the young girl flinch. Her grips tightened on Spencer's shirt while Spencer's hot breath getting as heavy as her throbbing heart. The sense kept messing with her mind. She swallowed, mildly parted her lips. Spencer gently moved Emily's hair out of the way, stole a kiss from her neck. A small sound escaped Emily's mouth and Spencer's moves got bold. Holding Emily, she swayed, turned the girl against the kitchen counter. Spencer started kissing again. This time, with opened mouth. She traveled from her collarbone, through the part near her shoulder, moved up and down along her neck. Emily's hands slowly disappeared in Spencer's hair, shyly moaned. Spencer teasingly sucked on her jaw. Then her chin. Then she stopped. Her look lingering on Emily's full lips. She glanced up to Emily's eyes once. Then back to her lips, her stomach clenched. Spencer breathed out heavily, eyed up again, seemingly asking for permission.

The hot air surrounded them heating up and Emily herself was being burned under Spencer's desirable stare. Her blood rushing hastily in her veins, gave the girl a hard time to catch her breath which was mimicking Spencer's pressing rhythm. She didn't consider this thoroughly but she knew she was ready. Because it was Spencer. Her mind was full of what was going to happen next. Her mind was full of Spencer. And how lovely, when Spencer's mind was full of her. The writer tried hard to restraint herself, waiting for a yes. It was so hard though. She already thought of her next move. How she captured Emily's lips between her own. How she slightly bit her lower lips. How her hands tucked under Emily's flimsy shirt and undid her bra. That short too. Yeah, that short must go. Emily didn't need anything to cover her perfect tanned thighs. Against the counter, Spencer would take it off, slide her hand between those long legs. And then, oh Spencer might go crazy. The part where their bodies collided could burn all their clothes off and Spencer's view couldn't stop flicking from Emily's eyes to her lips. Her heartbeat rose wildly, she could only wait for… no longer. But Emily saved her. A slight nod and doting eyes glanced down, Emily longing for Spencer's lips. It was a yes and Spencer rushed in faster than when she saw coffee. Her warm, breezy breath deliberately studied Emily's craving parted lips before Spencer got closer…

And kids, if there was an invention that Spencer Hastings hated the most, it would possibly be cellphone.

Our incredible yet unlucky writer was this insanely close to get what she had secretly dreamed of. This close. The sound put our lovebirds off the stroke. Spencer's iPhone default ringtone kept ringing shamelessly as if it was laughing at her face. They froze in their spot while Spencer clenched her jaws, torched the smartphone with her stare.

"You're not gonna get it?" The coffee shop owner asked, unamused.

"Not until I smash it first." Her voice muffled. She mumbled through her teeth.

Emily almost chuckled, bit her lips to stop a grin which could probably set Spencer on fire at the moment. "It could be important." She said, knew she had a point but couldn't even convince herself to listen.

Spencer faced Emily with her regretful eyes. She knew it. Technology ruined human's relationship. Her relationship. She frowned her brows, slightly pouted, couldn't help stealing a glimpse at Emily's lips.

Damn it!

Spencer frustrated, reluctantly released Emily when her ringtone made its third replay.

"WHAT?!" Without looking at the number, she snapped into the speaker. Our unlucky writer mindlessly continued to scold some unlucky caller. "Do you know what day it is? Do you know today's my day off? You don't pay me that well to work on weekend. Do not call me unless something is on fire! Understand? I have important thing to do."

You meant person to do?

Anyway, calling right in the moment Spencer was doing important thing, the person on the other side of her phone finally replied after incurred an unexpected punishment. Poor that someone! I wonder who that was.

Their words traveled through the phone, hit Spencer's ear like a rock. Her blood rushed out of her face, her pale skin got paler as if she was seeing a ghost.

"Grandma?" She asked, in hope that was her ears playing with her mind. It wasn't. "Oh shit.. I mean oh no, I mean I'm sorry, Grandma. I'm so sorry… I didn't know… I was just…"

Okay, I'm not going to lie, the scene where Spencer said sorry for seven more times but couldn't come up with the reason why she was mad at the beginning was fun to watch. Our dorky writer spent five minutes to say "yes" then "okay" and sometimes "Grandmaaaaa". Of course, the niece couldn't avoid another five more minutes for Grandma to repeat the conversation so "you can write it down on paper. Kids these days have terrible memory" without knowing she probably had told Spencer to fix the zipper of her schoolbag twice. Yeah, schoolbag. Twice.

After a really long time, Spencer ultimately escaped the talk. That was it. The phone was her enemy from now on. She turned to find a new enemy was laughing subtly behind her back. Emily shut it down, tried to keep a straight face immediately but fail not so long after.

"What?" Narrowed her eyes, Spencer asked.

"…"

"…"

"Grandmaaaaaa." Emily mimicked the writer's earlier gesture when she was on the phone then burst out laughing again.

"Ha - ha. Well I'll see how long your laugh lasts because Grandmaaaaa wants to see you now and let's say she's not easy on any person she's met." She said, put the quotation marks on the word Grandma, emphasizing the fact about the old lady.

Hmmm, I don't know, Spencer. Emily seemed got a long really, really well with you. Yes, you. Spencer Hastings. The perfectionist.

"She does? I mean… want to meet me?"

"Yes, we're leaving for three days and back on Wednesday. Hopefully. She can ask for "extra time" any minut…"

"Three days? What about work?" Emily questioned again, seemed confused with this sudden change. Especially when they started filming the first scene on Tuesday.

"I have to cancel them. Toby'll take care of it, don't worry!" The older girl replied nonchalantly like breaking the rules was not a big deal with the Hastings. But then, she tilted her head, added. "Sorry, I forgot to explain. The thing is, I'll cancel everything for her. She never missed any of my events when she was well and I'm not gonna miss any of hers either."

Kids, when you got to know a person for a while, you start to think you've learned everything about them. You know what the person will say just by a single eyes roll. You know what kind of food will cheer them up when they're upset. You can tell whether they're mad or excited when they end the message with "!". You've mastered of knowing them. But there will be times the person unintentionally plays you. You fail the surprise test no one asks for because there're so much of the person you haven't even heard of that will astonish you.

And that day, Emily suddenly felt like a kid again. The feelings of discovering new knowledge of a "good old friend" brought joys to her soul. Her eyes mildly widened but her heart had grown three size. Probably. I don't know I didn't scan her and… anyway, I caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. Just a tiny little beam that barely noticed yet perfectly made Emily look smitten.

Spence…

Emily smiled to herself, briefly gave Spencer a loving look then turned to the stair. Life treated her so well. If anyone said they were the luckiest person in the world, this time, Emily might fight back. Because no way, she was. Don't argue with her on this. She could list twenty five pages of reasons and three videos to support her statement.

The incredible writer's eyes followed her favorite person. A clear and big question mark appeared in her pupils, her mouth slightly opened.

"Where're you going?"

"Pack my bag. We're leaving right now, right?"

"Yes, but we were…"

…busy.

"Huh? We were what?" The brunette stopped at the first step, waiting for a respond.

I think I get what Nana said. Kids these days had terrible memories. Spencer suddenly felt clueless. She searched the back of her head for any possible appropriate answer to the most innocent face but apparently, it didn't exist. Her eyes got rounder, her mouth hung in mid - air and the older girl glossed over her real answer with nothing. Literally.

"Nothing! Keep going, we don't want to be late."

The coffee shop owner turned again, shaking her head, probably thought her incredible writer could be really silly sometimes. As her shadow disappeared completely in the room, Spencer walked casually to the fridge and… banged her head on the door, groaned.

"Grandmaaaaaaaa."

People get in trouble when they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not always though. Sometimes, being in the right place with perfect timing is a bad idea.

Alison just got to know that pretty well. Putting it in her bag, the famous actress ran as fast as she could out of the studio. She supposed she should act more normal if she wanted to leave unnoticed yet her legs didn't obey. They switched full speed mode, hoping they could get Alison out of the place. Out of the trouble. The icy blue eyed girl mentally cursed the two – hours – ago – Alison. That was a stupid idea, being in Hanna's room. Why did she do that? They had informed to delay the filming and she should have been at home, reading the script or just had a free day for herself. But no, she had to get here. Because being at home was kind of boring.

And lonely.

If Alison had been stronger, shooed away the loneliness and stayed at home, she should have been so much released right now. Her brain was picking a fight with her heart while had no idea what should it do next. But no worries, she could be stress about it later, in her room. The most important thing at the moment was to leave. Immediately.

The famous actress had never felt so blessed when she saw a glimpse of her car in the distance. Her legs worked harder and she was there.

Almost.

The last person she wanted to meet showed up from nowhere, blocking her way.

"What's wrong? Why're you running?" Hanna asked, looked at Alison from head to toes.

"Nothing! I'm just in a rush." Alison, honey. Not every question could be answered with "nothing".

"Really?" The fashion designer drawled. "Then why were you here at the first place? I'm pretty sure they told you about the delay."

Alison was speechless. On other days, she would have had a comeback for that. But that day, half of her brain was full of guilt and the other half was filled with confusion and hope. That didn't go unnoticed under Hanna's blue eyes. One tiny padlock loosed and the bear almost escaped.

"What did you do? Messed something up to ruin the movie?" She asked snarkily.

"Why would I do that? I'm in this project too, remember?" And the actress was slightly annoyed with how unreasonable Hanna was.

"Well you can always find another film but this is Spencer's first project. Everyone will doubt her ability if something goes wrong."

"Again, why would I want that?" Alison frowned, tried to keep her voice down.

"Cause you're jealous. You ruin the movie, you ruin Spencer's future. And you're hoping Emily will see how better you are compare to Spencer and maybe one day she'll get back to you."

Even a stranger like me don't think that was a good plan. Frankly, that was not even how Emily would react but Hanna thought Alison's mind processed that way and it made the actress angry. It was like Hanna never understood the kind of love she and Emily had. No, it was nothing like that. It was beautiful and genuine.

"Shut up! That's ridiculous!"

"Really? Cause you've never wished Spencer to stay out of the picture?" The fashion designer really didn't get Alison's point.

"I…"

"Cause you've never wished to win Emily back?" She hissed. "I don't think so, so whatever you did in there, come back and fix it. I'll riff your head off if you hurt Emily again."

She hated Alison so much. That was weird, after a long time she still thought Alison was a threat.

"Stop saying that! What on Earth gave you the idea of me harming Emily?"

Bad move, she made the other girl laugh. Hanna's anger fired up quickly, she fleered, couldn't believe what the blonde had said.

"Oooh! Look who's speaking! Are you fucking kidding me? What on Earth gave me the idea? Ali, where have you been lately? It was you, bitch!" The best friend scolded, wishing she could roar in that betrayal face.

"It was five fucking years ago. Not one, not two. Five years, Hanna. And why're you so stupid? I was just doing what was best for her. You would do the same if you were me."

"Oh please shut up!" Hanna threw her hands in the air, completely furious. "Which part of the plan was "best for her" again? And no, I wouldn't do anything like you. Unbelievable! After all these years you still think what you did is right."

Hanna was right. Though Alison knew it, she had to defend herself. Yes, she was wrong but never in her life she thought of doing anything less than love for Emily. Hanna could tell her off, scold her, do anything but accuse her for that. But of course, how could you win an argument when even you knew your words were all wrong? The famous actress remained silent, considered every choice she had made.

That didn't stop Hanna, she had to hold back for so long that her anger became a burden itself. She stepped closer, speaking under her breath to Alison's right ear. Her muffled voice almost scared the icy blue eyed girl.

"Since the day you left, I'd never stopped wishing you were gone forever. You should have stayed in your dreamy Paris and got your stupid face out of our memories. This is my last warning." The fashion designer paused, smirked. "You know what, I don't have to do this. You never stand a chance. Emily will never look at you the same way. You can't get in between them."

Alison clenched her jaws so tightly that Hanna might hear the sound of them cracking. The best friend shouldn't have said that. Because they weren't at the playground anymore. The girl she was talking to had changed. She craved for love and to be loved. At some point, with some people, love was weakness. With Alison, love, was all she had.

"Really?"

"What?" Hanna was taken back, frowned her browns.

The famous actress didn't reply. Keeping an unreadable face, she pushed through Hanna's shoulder to get in her car. The girl closed the door instantly, drove off. That morning, Alison left the best friend dumbfounded behind, taking with her the file in Hanna's secret drawer.

People usually cause trouble when they have something they shouldn't own. And Alison was going to know that. The girl was more powerful than ever.

You got it right. She had it.

The marriage contract.

AN: Tell me what you think?