Emily woke up on the bathroom floor with a raging hangover. Her head felt like her skull was trying to turn itself inside out and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. As soon as she tried to sit up, her stomach heaved and what little remained in her stomach made a hasty exit.
The sound of her vomiting must've attracted Clara's attention because when she sat back from the toilet bowl, she found her standing in the doorway, watching her with a raised brow, an unreadable expression.
"Whatever it is you're going to say, please just...don't," Emily grumbled. "I feel like shit, I really can't handle your smugness or whatever it is you're feeling right now."
Clara just shook her head, moved to sit next to her on the floor. She passed Emily a jar of viscous green liquid. "Drink this," she said, "You'll feel better." A beat. "Probably."
"Probably?" she repeated dubiously. She swirled the liquid around in the jar, eyeing it with distaste.
She shrugged. "Either that or you'll throw up more."
Emily sniffed the drink suspiciously, then looked up at Clara. "Is this some kind of potion you need a guinea pig for?"
Clara rolled her eyes. "No – why do you always assume..." At Emily's pointed look, she trailed off, shrugged. "Okay, fine. Occasionally, I experimented on you, but this time it's just a genuine hangover remedy."
She nodded, then downed a generous swig, pulling a face at the taste. "God," she whined, "What is in this? It tastes like frog piss!"
Without comment, Clara stood, walked away.
"Wait! Clara?" Emily called after her. "Clara? Please tell me there isn't frog urine in my drink!"
But Clara was long gone and apparently not about to respond.
Emily was half-asleep, head in her hands, at the cash desk when the bell over the door chimed. "Hello and welcome to Periodic Fables," she mumbled against wooden surface of the desk. "As I'm currently extremely hungover, I'm going to keep my eyes closed and trust you not to steal anything."
Soft laughter. "I'm not surprised, based on the voicemail you left me..."
Emily's head shot up so quickly her head started spinning again. "Alex..." she stammered. "What... What are you doing here?"
"I, umm... I got your voicemail," she said softly, shrugging as if she were suddenly uncertain as to her presence there.
"Voicemail?" Emily repeated.
Alex raised a brow. "You don't remember?" A small smirk crossing her lips. "I'm assuming you'd had more than your fair share of liquor at the time."
Shrugging sheepishly, Emily said, "To be fair, that was Clara's idea."
"And the phone call?"
She gestured vaguely. "That was my idea, but I'm blaming the alcohol. Also, I genuinely don't even remember making a phone call..."
Alex nodded as if she suspected as much. "Do you want to get a coffee?" she asked, "It looks like you could use one."
"So, about this voicemail," Emily said. "Was it embarrassing?"
Alex laughed. "Perhaps. Which is why I'm going to save it in case I ever need blackmail material."
She raised a brow. "Blackmail? Why would you need blackmail material?"
She shrugged. "Don't know yet, but I like to be prepared." Emily still seemed confused, so she shook her head. "I wanted to talk about the message you left. I know you were drunk at the time, but I want you to know that I still care about you."
"Really?" Emily said, hardly daring to hope.
"Of course," she insisted. She chewed her lip for a few moments, then sighed. "You have to understand...my trust in people was absolutely shattered by my ex-husband. It took years for me to reach the point where I could even think about a relationship. I was honestly terrified when we started dating. Scared that you were going to hurt me like I'd been hurt before. Scared that I could never full trust someone."
A beat.
"Oh, Alex..." she breathed.
"But you're different, Em. And maybe I got a little scared because last time I was in a serious relationship, my entire life got turned on its head. I was afraid of history repeating itself. Maybe I still am. I don't want to be afraid – I want to move forward with you – but I don't know how to do that."
Emily reached across the table to rest her hand on Alex's. She smiled reassuringly...then proceeded to stick her foot in her mouth. "What's going to happen? You're already a vampire..."
Another beat.
Emily winced. "Okay, that came out wrong," she mumbled. "That's not what I meant. I was trying to say that you're practically invincible now."
"Being invincible doesn't mean I can't be hurt," she whispered.
With a soft sigh, Emily nodded, her tongue flicking out over her bottom lip. "I'm not going to ask you for something you can't give," she said. "I'm not going to ask for anything at all. I want you to be able to give yourself freely to me – if that's what you want – because that's what would make me happy: to know that you trust me. But it has to be your decision."
Alex's smile was full of silent thanks. And for several long moments, neither said anything. "I think..." Alex said slowly, "I think you care for me more than my husband ever did." She squeezed Emily's hand. "I love that about you."
Emily felt her heart fill with happiness at that, but she also knew that wasn't the end of what she had to say.
"But I need time. I need to know that I can trust myself before I can allow myself to trust anyone else." She offered a look of apology. "And I can't ask you to wait while I figure things out. So, I understand if you need to move on, to be happy."
"Alex..."
She shook her head. "Think about it, okay?"
There was still so much Emily wanted – needed – to say, but it was clear that it wasn't the right time to bare her heart. So, she swallowed down all her emotions and forced a smile.
