A/N: Thank you, birdies. I love you. As I've mentioned before, your reviews seriously makes my stomach flutter. Don't ever stop. I feel like Naomi in this story. Lulz. So I'm sorry to disappoint those of you who were looking forward to sexy time, but it just feels really unnatural for them to take a step in that direction at the moment. Oh.. and unfortunately I've got some bad news for you guys. I'm going away on a vacation for almost two weeks without internet, BUT I'm planning on writing the shit out of this fic while I'm there, so you got something to look forward to at least? Just don't be a hater. ;( Anyway, I was really in a hurry getting this one out since I'm leaving in just a couple of hours so sorry for the misspellings and other grammatical errors. But I do hope you still enjoy it. You know what to do, right? Read n' review, lovelies. And if you think that this fic is terrible or the best one you've ever read, please do share that with the rest of us. See you soon!

"Tell me about her." She carefully whispers to me, her warm breath brushing against my hand as it lays between us. And I still can't grasp the fact that I'm lying next to Emily in this basement, in this bed, under these covers.

I think about it for a while, sorting through my memories of her, trying to find one I can settle with. To retell. There are so many even though I was fairly young when she passed away. The aching returns, but the strength of it thankfully being overpowered by everything else that is ruby red.

She's watching me so intently, her eyes scanning my face.

"She said you were the nicer twin." I said, smiling at the memory. My eyes glued to my hand between us.

"She did?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah. She used to say that Katie was lacking in heart. You had the heart."

Emily stays silent. Urging me to continue with her eyes. I know that because I eventually looked up from my hand and studied her face instead. Openly. Mindlessly. I couldn't care less about what my otherwise reasonable brain was telling me. I don't know why I chose that memory of all the memories that is May Campbell. But it felt right. A way for me to say everything I feel without really saying anything about me.

"Do you remember that time I turned six? I had that costume party and JJ was dressed up as princess Leia."

Emily starts laughing at this, obviously remembering, as I also expected her to.

"He was adorable! With the buns and everything." She smiles. Her eyes in deep thought.

"He was. But then Katie poured her soda all over him in the bouncy castle, saying that he shouldn't be dressing as a girl when he's a boy. Do you remember?"

"Yeah.. I do." She says, still in deep thought but not smiling any longer.

I'm just laying there in front of her, watching her. What she did that day, I will never forget. I didn't fancy her then, or I don't know, sometimes I think I've loved her all my life. But I didn't acknowledge it at the time. I just thought that she was.. nice. Just. Nice.

"It all went so fast, and then suddenly you were standing in only your underwear offering him your dress."

"I felt so bad for him. Katie was such a twat." Disappointment overtaking her words when mentioning Katie.

"Exactly. When I went to bed that night, my grandmother came and sat next to me. Asked me if I enjoyed the day and all that. I said yes, but that I felt sorry for JJ. He really looked so cute in that costume and probably spent days getting it together."

I pause for a bit, adjusting myself in the bed. Our legs touches once again, sending shivers down my spine, and this all-too-familiar burning sensation from the pit of my stomach is travelling further and further down my body at the speed of light. I take a deep breath, trying to rid myself of this escalating fire burning inside me with Emily so close.

"She passed away a couple of months afterwards, but I remember it so clearly, that night when she sat with me and we went through the day. I told her it was nice of you to offer your dress, not many people would have done such a thing. And then she suddenly put her hand over my chest, right against my heart and said, 'Emily has a lot of that. Sometimes too much. But most of the time it's better to have too much, than too little.' "

She looked at me with such love in her eyes I swore I would have died right in this spot if they were meant for me and not this memory. Not my grandmother. Just, me.

"And it was so weird, everything about that moment was so weird at the time. I had no idea to what she meant. Or I mean, I understood that you were nicer than most people, especially Katie, but not the bigger picture. I probably still don't. But just before she went to turn off the lights and kiss me good night as usual she said, 'just remember that people like Emily tend to ache much more in there than others if being hurt.' "

I don't know how she got me to tell this story, and I don't understand anymore why I chose it. I can't stop it. This, truth-telling when she's near me. And in this state of mind, with my heart screaming out for the only girl I love and the grandmother I've lost, I am helpless.

"And then she just left the room with that. I had no idea to what she was saying. But I remember keeping my hand over my heart as I feel asleep and I dreamt about you."

That last part wasn't meant to come out. Fuck. It was the first time I can remember dreaming about you. About red. But that, I can't say.

She looks surprised.

"You did? What was it about?"

"I was six! I can't remember."

Of course I remember. I always remember.

"Anyway. What she said has always been somewhere in the back of my mind. Like when you dropped Snowball in the water. All I could think about was that your heart would ache so much more than if it was Katie who dropped hers." I admit to her, not meeting her piercing brown eyes.

"Is that why you did it?" She whispers again.

"I didn't want you to be sad." I say with such a small voice I almost thought she didn't hear me.

A lazy smile forms on her lips, her eyes squinting a bit trying to analyse me with her brown orbs. But she keeps whatever she's thinking to herself.

Silence surrounds us, but this didn't feel awkward. This didn't feel wrong. Me and Emily, speaking. Me and Emily, sharing a bed. Me and Emily. Full stop. And I don't understand why it even would. We've been around each other for years. And yet this comfortable feeling, this easy connection, comes as such a surprise.

Emily tries to stifle a yawn, but it's way too obvious for anyone to miss.

"Go to sleep, you're tired." I say, ordering her.

"No, no, I'm not. Not at all." She vainly tries to cover it up by raising her voice so that the hoarse sound of sleep that is threatening to overtake her any minute now is concealed, but no such luck.

I just glare at her. Unconvinced. She's the worst liar.

"It's okay Emily, go to sleep. I'm pretty beat too. It's been a fucking draining day." I say as I also can't stop myself from yawning.

"Okay, but only because you can't keep your eyes straight." She mocks as she turns her back to me.

My heart instantly falls. All I wanted was for her to fall asleep so I could unashamedly study the stunning and breath-taking features of her face. Take in everything that is Emily Fitch. I've never been given a chance to actually see Emily when she's asleep. Calm and serene. Free of worries. Peaceful. At ease.

The creamy white skin of her arm is being illuminated by the weak ray of the morning sun seeping through the curtains. I study her bare shoulders, they're sharp but yet tender at the same time. In the crook of her neck I can spot her pulse point, indicating a evenly beating heart. I think she's falling asleep. I'd rather stay awake. I have a whole life left to sleep.

Suddenly she turns back around. I don't even have time to pretend I was sleeping and not running my hungry eyes over her perfect and slender figure that I've dreamed of oh so many times.

My stomach dropped. My heart dropped. The look in her brown eyes is so powerful I feel my knees weakening by the sight of them. I don't know what it is. What they're telling me, but I'm sure that my eyes are saying everything right now.

I dream of you all the time. You're everything I love. You're everything I hate. I want you. I've always wanted you. I would never hurt you. I love your laugh. Your voice makes weak. You're all that I need. You're it.

She leans closer and closer, the sound of my rapidly beating heart is nothing I can keep to myself anymore. Not even if I tried. As she inches closer to my face I'm certain that she's listening, her eyes darting between lips and and eyes at the same pace as the beast pumping inside.

I close my eyes for many reasons, one of them being that I can't stand those eyes boring into me and I can't allow myself to say more than I already have. I'm already on my knees for her.

Almost unnoticeably I part my lips at the exact moment that I feel her lips meet the skin of my forehead. It's careful, it's light and it feels like it's lasting forever. I open my eyes, being greeted by her neck, that calm and even pulse point I studied earlier is rapidly pumping now, much like my very own.

I let out a shaky breath, obviously shaking her back to life from whatever moment this was.

"Night, Naomi." She whispers and turns back around.

Just like that. With the simplest of acts; a kiss on the forehead, she gives me everything I need. The comfort. The warmth. The soothing layer smothering that dull and lonely ache that seems to grows bigger for every year that passes as I realize I miss her more every time around instead of less. And I smile to myself, knowing that whatever happens, how bad things ever get, Emily makes me feel like people should feel. Emily stirs all these emotions to life, these emotions that I'm allowed to have. That I should have.

"Night, Emily."

It's the feeling of being watched by someone that forces me to pry my eyes open, squinting them just as quickly as I'm greeted by a blinding sun coming from the now open windows.

"Wake up, Campbell." Freddie. I've missed you is the second thing running through my head. The first one was wondering where Emily was and when she left me this morning.

"Fucking hell.." I croak out. "What's up with the damn spotlight? You could at least have closed the blinds or something."

"Nah. You need your vitamin D."

I let out a loud groan, pulling myself up into a seating position, reaching for my jeans, tucking them under the covers to pull them back on.

"So, how are we feeling today, love?" He asks me. I know he's referring to May and everything that went down yesterday. And I feel better. I feel fucking fantastic actually. For the first time in years I've got a proper good nights rest. I feel unwearied and well rested.

"Honestly, I feel great." I say, with surprise coating my own words. I really was a surprise.

He looks at me and smiles, lighting up a spliff and gives me a wink. "Good."

"So, did you enjoy the company?" He asks while mindlessly blowing smoke rings out into the open air.

I instantly freeze, not knowing how to answer this. How did he know that Emily slept here? Did he hear us? Was he spying? But before I even have time to come up with a shitty see-through lie or to muster up the strength to just play dumb he reaches me to it. He's pointing at the empty side of the bed where Emily slept.

"There's only one person in this house who can pull that shade of red off, and I think we both know who that is." On the pillow where Emily's head rested just mere hours ago lies a few ruby red hairs.

"I like her." I say, and it comes from nowhere. I just wanted to put us both out of this misery. I've kept it from him for so long and I knew that it was only a matter of minutes before he would start probing it again, because he always do and I sometimes think that he's always known. I already feel guilty for all those things I haven't told him, that I'm willing to give him this. Something. Just to let him know that I do trust him.

"I don't even know when I started to like her. Sometimes I think it even started before I was fucking born." I snort.

But somewhere in this rambling of mine it felt good to actually voice it out. I've never told anyone before. And now it's like a snowball effect. I can't stop myself. It felt like such a relief, being able to talk about it. To just tell someone what she does to me. And I could probably ramble on for hours about how I could see ten different shades of red through that hair of hers, or the wrinkling nose and her gorgeous hands. There is so much to say, but I can only think of one thing. And it's nothing but truthful.

"She makes me go weak. At the knees, the heart, everywhere." It's almost a whisper.

And then all I feel is his strong but slender arms around me in a tighter grip than I've ever experienced with Freddie. Telling me that it's okay. That it doesn't matter to him. And that it's probably more of a surprise for me than for him.

"I know." And that's all he says. "But thank you for finally saying it."