AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello, everyone!
It's October 12 - it's Emily Prentiss' BIRTHDAY !
So, Happy Birthday Emily Prentiss...enjoy my gift for you, girl :P
Also, thanks everyone who reads my story and a special thanks to those of you who review/msg me. The fact that this started off with just an idea in my head and I started writing things down on a whim...and almost a year later it blew into this two-way conversation with a whole bunch of you...it's just mind-blowing! I appreciate each word of yours and I think it is so cool and so kind of you to take time of your day and to review/msg me your thoughts, deductions, feelings. I really cannot stress enough, how cool that feels!
PS: I tried to go a bit poetic with metaphors and some word repetition in this chapter. I'm super excited to share this chapter with you, guys :)!
CHAPTER 110
I'M ALL IN, EMILY
"Okay…I guess I'm really doing this then…" Emily said to herself, as a reminder…as a pep talk, as a way to not chicken out and undo what she had just done so far.
Her shoes became dusty, the second she stepped foot in there - in that special place, but she didn't mind. The Hell with the shoes…
It was a bit windy and she could almost feel the dusty particles now sticking to her lipstick, as the wind blew them around frantically. But she didn't mind. The Hell with the lipstick…
Her feet knew the right path to take, across the park and to a certain place she considered special, in her heart. With one very dark coffee in one hand, and her transparent, bare heart in the other, she walked in a quick pace, quite sure of herself. Until she saw it…
Her knees went weak for a second and her pace slowed down just a little bit. It scared her, more than she was willing to admit. But it also intrigued her. She wanted it. She had put her life on hold, once again, so she could do this. The Hell with being scared…
Slowly, but surely, she walked over to it – an architectural masterpiece; pulling one of those park chairs closer, so that she could have a good view. She sat right next to that masterpiece, on the left side, where she was sure it's beating heart was allocated. Yes, it was an inanimate object, but to Emily Prentiss, that place had a heart. It had a soul. It had robbed half her heart and half her soul, after all. It had been the beginning of two very beautiful things in her life. She had then lost both things, but she wasn't scared. She didn't mind. The Hell with being scared…
She now had her head held high, determined to fight until her last breath, until she'd have both of those things, back in her life. Back in her heart.
Sitting down, with her back resting comfortably against the otherwise very hard and uncomfortable chair, she looked at the horizon. It was a beautiful day and she was just chilling at a park that she knew very well, drinking a coffee that she remembered the taste of, so very well, looking at a thing, a place that had changed her life in ways she never realized anything could. She had always thought that it was people who changed other people. Wrong. It was places, things, events, relationships, even loss. But she didn't mind. The Hell with loss…
There was something about the horizon…
Her eyes were glued to the sky, poking through the trees that surrounded her, at that beautiful, mystical place – a place she hoped would now change her life for the third time around.
The clouds started looking like objects, the more she stared at them. Two clouds almost formed the shape of a heart and she smiled. They were beautiful.
A whole bunch of other clouds were dispersed, in the same order as her colleague's desks at the bullpen were. Or at least that's what she made herself believe. She wanted to see it – them…on the horizon of her life. They would always be there. They were her family.
And then there was a cloud with something like a small halo on top of it. Maybe it was just a ring of smoke, from where a plane had gone through the cloud. The Hell with the reasons why, but it really did look like an angel, to Emily. Was that the Universe's way of letting her see Angela, on her horizon?
Her eyes then drifted back to the two clouds, the first two that had caught her attention. A heart. Her heart? Well, one of the two clouds would be her heart, it had to be, because it felt incomplete…divided in two. But whose half heart was the other cloud? Who would fit so perfectly, equally, proportionate, merging with her cloud, forming the most irregular, yet most beautiful heart shape that she had ever seen?
With a deep sigh, she fiddled with her phone in her hands. She remembered a few things that people who love her, had recently said to her.
"Chin up, beautiful. The world deserves to see you smile. You deserve to be loved, Emily Prentiss – deeply and unconditionally." – Angela's voice resonated in Emily's mind first.
"You deserve to be happy, with a man that treats you exactly like he did…" – A part of JJ's speech about Richard, whom she had never even met, came back to Emily's mind.
"You deserve this. Be honest with him. Tell him how you feel." – Rossi had said to her after the few words she had shared, in regards to someone she regretted having lied to. He didn't need words, to show him how much Emily cared about that man. Her smile, her eyes had told him way more than words ever could. It hadn't even been a conversation, but rather a few glances and one very short, but very on point piece of Rossi advice, as per usual.
"You are strong. Powerful. Unit Chief. Independent. Surrounded by people who would, literally, sacrifice their lives for you. And you are asking me why you feel this way? With that pout on your face now, Emily? Well, you have it all. Almost all. You need one more thing, to complete your family. You need to not be afraid to let someone in - let him be your family, let him love you like you've never been loved before…" – Her therapist's words were next to hit her.
"You need to let yourself enjoy this. This is real…" – Last, but not least, there it was – Emily's inner voice from the night she had spent with Richard, the only night when she had been this close to letting herself want to let a man be her family, want to let him love her like she had never been loved before.
The Hell with her inner voice…
She sighed one more time and she pressed her eyes shut for the longest moment, just breathing…in and out.
Her coffee cup was now empty and long gone from her hand, and she now found herself figuratively holding onto her heart tightly. If it was an invisible object, she'd now be squishing it between her fingers, with sweaty palms, holding it tight and yet, wanting nothing more but to let go, let it rest in someone else's hands now.
A cold breeze made her open her eyes abruptly and she smiled. A wide, genuine smile, creeped onto her face, as she realized that, even after the long moment she had not been looking, the horizon she saw was now just the same. The bullpen desks were there, that angel-looking shape was right there, and the heart-shaped clouds had now been pushed closer to one another, by the wind, by God or by whatever other reason that she simply did not care to investigate.
But they were there, together. Close. Perfect, in their imperfect, asymmetrical way, yet so equal-looking.
The Hell with being poetic…
Emily realized she was already holding her phone in one hand, she had even unblocked the screen, without knowing she was doing so. Wasn't that a sign enough that this was the right thing to do?
"This is real…" Her inner voice said once again and she felt shivers, going up her spine.
"Trust your instincts, Emily…"
"Let yourself enjoy this…"
She bit her bottom lip, feeling vulnerable. And yet, it was one of the most beautiful feelings she had ever felt.
"You won't regret this. You deserve this, Emily…"
She gulped, her eyes darting off to the beautiful surroundings, just wanting to take it all in, one more time, before it would change her life forever, one more time.
Her fingers, now perfectly manicured and with the acrylic gel nails still looking awesome and feminine on her hands - those hands that had held a gun and the hands that had given punches more than a million times before; she started typing the beginning of her happy ending.
"…But I can't stop thinking about you!"
She sent the text, having no shame, no doubts, no regrets, no cold feet, not second guessing herself anymore. She wanted this. She deserved this. She believed in this. This was real.
Richard was in the middle of a business meeting with some of the most influential people he was currently 'in bed' with. It had already been two hours and a half and he was negotiating his ass off, trying to lure them, to make them sign a damned piece of paper that would pretty much make or break his whole career. And that meeting was surely not going to be over for the next two and a half hours to come. If not more.
Very swiftly, he brushed his hands against his sweaty forehead, trying not to sigh, not to show signs of weakness. The Hell with weakness…
Victor was right there, by his side, as he had always been, since Richard could remember. Both were pitching their ideas and hoping that, rephrasing the same thing over and over again, they'd finally hit the spot with the right words.
That was not really happening, though.
Their opponents - four men and a woman, all with stern looks on their faces, were sitting across the table from them, completely unmoved and uninterested in anything Richard and Victor were saying.
At some point, Richard's phone illuminated. There was no sound, no vibration, just a light that came out on the screen.
The phone sat right next to Victor's, between both men, right in front of their faces. Victor's eyes drifted towards the table, to check whose phone was now illuminated. And then he saw it – an unsaved number, with American prefix.
And then he felt it, he felt the tension in Richard's body, instantly. As soon as he had noticed the screen, he had retrieved his hand, placing it under the table, on top of his knee, with his fingers clenching in a tight fist, as if he was trying to calm himself down. Victor had seen him do this many times before, always in stressful situations.
"Tu devrais y aller." Victor leaned in, whispering to Richard, telling him he had to go.
Richard shook his head, or at least he tried to do so. He could not deny himself the pleasure of reading that incoming text, from that person. He had waited for it for so long. Almost two months - it wasn't too long, compared to a lifetime, but it was too long, compared to not spending every second of every day, with this woman by his side. Almost two months without her was torture. Almost two months without knowing if she would ever reach out, was Hell. And there was absolutely no trace of doubt in his mind that this number was her number and that this message was his prayers coming true.
"Aller! Tu le mérite. C'est réel." Victor urged him one more time, telling him pretty much the same thing that Emily's inner voice had been telling her, for almost two months now: Go, you deserve this, this is real.
He did not need to hear more.
With a smile on his face, he stood up and excused himself, walking away from those people, with only one person in mind. And in his heart, in his hands.
The Hell with business…
There would always be other opportunities to wow someone else. He didn't need those people. Well, he sure did, but they were not what he saw on that horizon of his life, what his inner conscious showed him the perfect future might look like. So, the Hell with those people…
Barely waiting to be on the other side of the door, he opened the message without reading the words yet and found himself sweating profusely, by this point.
What if it was bad?
But then again – would she really take the time of the day, to message him an insult? She had been silent for almost two months, why text him now, if it was bad news?
What if it was good?
His free hand swiped more sweat from his forehead before he loosened his tie. The Hell with his suit, his tie and his amazingly put-together look…
The Hell with it all!
He then realized it had been way too long since he unblocked his phone and let her message appear on the screen. Seven long seconds, during which his whole entire life – past, present and future; fast-forwarded in front of his eyes and all he could see was her.
A deep sigh helped him steady his emotions. He wasn't an emotional person. Life had taught him better. He never let anyone see him weak, he never admitted his pain. Victor was the only one who had ever had the privilege of seeing Richard's vulnerable side. He was so incredibly lucky that this man had given him the green light just a minute ago, to dump everything he had worked so hard for, in order to go fight for something he wanted so much.
When his eyes finally laid on the screen, he felt his lower lip quiver after finally reading her text.
This was good.
Or, at the very least, it wasn't bad.
"Was the first part of this: 'I hate you'?"
He texted back, because the incoming message had only started from mid-sentence.
And he needed it all.
He needed all of her.
To Emily, it felt like a lifetime, sitting there, with the wind still blowing dust in her face, her eyes fixated on the magnificent thing in front of her, while her hands were gripping onto the phone to the point where it would snap at any given time now.
Waiting…
It had been almost two months now, that she had left him waiting. Was it too egoistic of her to be frowning more and more, with every second that she had to wait for his reply now, instead? Was she a bad person for wanting it then and there?
Or was it only human to feel so vulnerable and emotional after having made that first step?
When her phone vibrated in her hands, she felt her heartbeat freeze completely.
Would this be bad?
What if it was bad?
But then again, would he even take the time of the day, to text her something mean? The profiler in her was against the possibility of such a vicious act. He wouldn't dare. It was not who he was.
Would it be good?
Closing her eyes for just a second, she remembered the first time they had met. He had complimented her for being beautiful. He had come out and said it, straight away, that he was intrigued to know more about her, to spend some time with her.
Did Richard have balls? Well, she already knew the literal answer to that question, but metaphorically – was he stronger than her? Why had it been so incredibly easy for him to pour his heart out to her, seconds after he had laid eyes on her? A stranger. That was what she had been to him. And, egoistically, Emily had done her best to remain a stranger to him, that entire week.
Was she weaker than him?
Was he more courageous?
Didn't that only mean that they needed each other? He needed her to show him how to be vulnerable sometimes and she needed him, to show her how to be brave, always. Wasn't that what she ultimately wanted?
With her phone in one hand, she let her free hand unbutton the top two buttons of her smart shirt. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt like she was boiling, like everything inside of her was on fire. Like she was that fire. Like he was the match that had lit that fire inside of her.
His match. Her fire.
As soon as her eyes laid on the screen, reading his reply, she felt her lower lip quiver.
It wasn't bad. But it also wasn't good.
It was neutral and she knew she didn't deserve any better, after what she did to him – making him wait for almost two months now.
Then again, she wasn't the one who had left. So, why was she blaming herself for causing him pain, when in reality, it had been him who had made her cry?
And then again, hadn't those tears, those raw emotions that Richard managed to extract out of big bad Emily Prentiss, helped her? After the heartbreak, Emily had taken enough time to go back to the Emily Prentiss that Morgan once knew – the one who looked after her team, the one who got things done, the one who had managed to start loving herself in the midst of the most hurtful heartbreak she had ever experienced.
She stopped freaking out for a second and she did what Unit Chief Emily Prentiss would do – she assessed the situation.
He had broken her heart. Yes.
But that had given her Morgan back, even if only just temporarily.
That had also made her strong, it had given her the balls she needed during that Hearing. It had made her keep her head held high, chin up, always…and it had made her immune to pain, in a weird way.
After him, she had taken low blows, left and right. She had been under investigation, her every move had been surveilled, her every command had been questioned. And she had come out of it, with her head still held high, her chin up, even with a smile on her face.
She had also managed to laugh, genuinely. Granted, it had been Angela's weird Diva-like outbursts and her random singing and dancing in the middle of the street, to make her laugh, but she had laughed nonetheless. Wasn't that what Emily Prentiss needed in her life - the strength to stand up to challenges and the weakness to show emotions, to cry when she was upset and to laugh when she felt like it?
Wasn't it all because of Richard?
"Yes !"
She texted him back, replying to his question, because even after such inner revelations, she was still an egoist, a narcissistic bitch, like JJ had promptly called her just recently, during her little emotional meltdown.
Richard was now with his back against the wall, both literally and figuratively.
This time he read her message, the second it came in, maybe because his eyes were glued to the screen and his heart stopped breathing three times, during that two-second period of time in which he saw the "is typing…" line on top of the chat window.
Her reply was bad. To anyone in the world, this reply would be a bad reply and no one could ever convince them otherwise. Didn't she just admit that she hated him?
He smiled wide.
It would be bad to anyone, but him.
He knew her. He knew how to read her words. He knew how to push her buttons, how to work her up and then wear her out, ultimately. He knew just how to extract the truth out of that stubborn, egoistic, narcissistic woman. And he wouldn't have her any other way. She was perfect, in all the right ways.
He then just sat and waited. He would be damned if he gave her the satisfaction of replying to that text. No way. Even as desperate as he was to beg for forgiveness, he knew that words would do her no good. He knew exactly how to work her up, how to light that fire in her, how to be her match.
He wasn't replying. Why was he not replying? Emily stood up and started pacing around, her eyes glued to the architectural amazingness that was in her vicinity.
God, it was magnificent. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was perfect, with its old façade and its heart and soul, now staring at her.
She felt shivers, realizing she was now hearing voices. Was she going crazy?
"Oui, merci beaucoup!" An innocent young voice rang in her head.
Emily was now ready to cry. Why was this memory hitting her so hard? Yes, she was at the very same place where it had all started, but this was all about Richard, not that other person.
"J'ai hâte de passer toute ma vie avec toi!" The imaginary vibrant young voice said to her and Emily remembered feeling quite the same: she couldn't wait to spend her entire life with that person, too.
She remembered them grabbing a piece of paper from her hands, standing right at that spot where Emily was now standing – in front of it all – front row and center. That was where they belonged – always first, always on top, always in Emily's life. Forever!
She also realized one more thing – she was now crying. And it wasn't because of Richard. It was because of the other person. Were they the route of her issues?
"Je t'aime plus que les mots ne pourraient l'expliquer!" Emily had then told this person, because it was true - she really did love them more than words could explain.
Those were her two daemons now – this person and Richard. And she had to fix both situations. She would be damned if she did not.
With a convinced look on her face, she grabbed her phone once more and typed a new message, one that overruled and substituted the previous one.
"No…"
This time, she did not feel vulnerable. She felt like she was doing the right thing, giving Richard not only the answer he wanted to hear, but the answer her heart truly wanted to give him.
An excruciatingly long eternity after that other text had come, Richard finally received the truth.
He briefly laid his eyes on the phone, now careful on the road. Because, yes, Richard had somehow found himself inside of his car and speeding away to a place he felt the urge to connect to, once more.
He couldn't help but smirk, in a very smug way. He deserved a pat on the shoulder for having played that woman, for having refrained from the urge to text her back, until he had received the truth from her. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth.
As soon as he reached his destination, he abandoned his car, with two side wheels now up on the boardwalk and the other two on the street, parked in a restricted access area where one would surely be getting towed, or at the very least – receiving a salty fine for their dumbass parking abilities.
The Hell with fines…
His feet hit the pavement and he watched them get covered in dust. The Hell with dust… he simply did not care.
His mind was racing. What was he supposed to text back? He could not ask how she was, because that was lame. He knew she was not fine. He also knew she was not fine, because of him.
He could not ask what she was doing, because her answer would be "none of your business', and rightfully so.
He could also not tell her the words that he was so desperate to utter, because it was too soon. For her. Not for him. Those words would freak her out…and rightfully so.
How was he supposed to proceed? Why was he at the loss of words, apart from those three words, eight letters?
Turning the corner of two pathways, there it was – hidden behind tall trees, there was the place where it had all started.
Emily saw that "Seen" notification on the screen, to both of her replies, as soon as she had sent them. But he did not text back. Why wasn't he texting back?
She felt the urge to bite on her nails, but she also remembered a promise she had made to Angela – to keep them neat and pretty. And Emily Prentiss would be damned if she ever broke a promise to Angela Hunter.
Instead, she leaned against a fence, grabbing it with both hands, behind her back, as if to steady herself. Her head tilted upwards and she looked at the clouds one more time.
The BAU bullpen desks were still intact, perfectly aligned. JJ's desk, Luke's desk, Tara's desk…everyone's desk. They were still there, on the horizon.
One, two, three, four…ten desks.
Emily shook her head in disbelief. Her team only consisted of eight people and yet, it was one of the most numerous teams at the Bureau. It was unrealistic that there would be ten desks, as she barely had the budget to cover for eight people.
Was destiny trying to tell her something?
The Angel-shaped cloud was what she looked at next. It was now much closer to the BAU bullpen area than she remembered it from earlier. Had it moved? Or was she just perceiving it differently now? Why was it so damn close to that one desk, the one that was currently not even in the bullpen? But it was out there, on the horizon. And this single, lonely cloud was now making its way towards that single, lonely desk, like it truly belonged there.
Emily smiled. She would love nothing more. And she believed that the world had a better plan for her, better than the pain and misery it had poured on her on occasion, since she could remember herself.
It had all started at fifteen, when her world had changed forever…
The girl she had been up until then, had seen the world in all of its colors. She had been vibrant, giggly, she had believed in the good, in people, in humanity. She had smiled and she had told jokes and Emily could now not help but draw a parallel between her young self and Angela. They were basically the exact same person.
But, at fifteen, her horizon had become black. Her face had become black, with make-up; and her thoughts and vision of life, people and humanity had been tinted in a shade, even darker than black.
It had taken her years to get over it. And she still hadn't fully managed to. But she was on the right path and she could feel it. She had the right support – amazing friends who loved her so dearly and also people who really wanted to be in her life now, too. Angela was one of those. Richard, maybe, was one of those as well.
Lost in her thoughts, she opened her eyes and saw the heart shaped clouds once again. They were now fully merged into one and this one seemed smaller. It almost looked as if after that merge, the heart shape was finally retrieving, the two clouds now walking off into the sunset, together, happily…as one. She was okay with that.
The next time she opened her eyes, she found herself in the reality of her life. The Hell with being poetic and seeing all sorts of things on the horizon…
Her eyes instantly flew to a figure, on the other side of the fence of this beautiful place. And she smiled, through tears, because what she saw was so bittersweet.
Her phone rose up for a second. She now had the perfect thing to text to Richard, since he was treating her with silence.
He walked until the moment he saw it. And then he stopped. He wanted to admire this place. He had spent his every lunch break there, for almost two months now. He knew every nook and cranny. He even remembered the faces of people who, much like him, spent their time around there far too often.
He'd go there after work, too.
Sometimes, he'd grab his morning coffee to go and the place he'd go to was always the same – right there, where it had all started.
At night, when he wouldn't be able to fall asleep, he'd sometimes get out of bed and he'd go there. He loved that place after dark. It was mysterious, inviting, a little scary, so powerful to look at. God, it reminded him or her.
With one hand in his pocket and the other one still holding the phone, he stared at the chat. They had only texted a few words to each other, but to him it felt like he was reading a book. Her book. She had opened it on page one and he was now able to read it all. He wanted to read it all. And, if later on he'd find blank pages, it would be okay, because he wanted to hold her hand while she held a pen, accompanying her in writing the happy ending to the story of her life.
It would then be their book.
He would hold her, he would kiss her and he'd go through every word, every letter, standing by her side. If she misspelled something, he'd correct her. If she failed at something, he'd let her know. If she was unsure, he'd push her. If she was uninspired, he'd be her muse.
It would then be their story.
And, if he had to be honest with himself, he'd love nothing more but to start something with her. To build something with her. To feel something, with her. To create someone with her.
Lost in his thoughts, yet one more time, he was brought back to reality with the buzzing of his phone.
This time, it was not a message. There was no text. But he understood her perfectly.
All he saw on the screen was a photo.
A photo of him…
Him, standing on the other side of a fence, with one hand in his pocket and the other one, holding his phone – the same exact pose that he had at this very moment.
A second later, he had turned around and, in between the crowd of people who were taking photos at that same very spot, he saw her. He only saw her. Nothing else and no one else existed for him anymore. He only had eyes for her.
Another second later, he was standing right in front of her.
Emily felt naked. Yes, she was naked, in the middle of a park, surrounded by people. But most of all – being observed by him. His eyes looked at her, as if they were trying to figure her out. All of her. And that was intimidating.
The Hell with being intimidated…
She hadn't spent all those hours, sitting on a plane, just to be intimidated. By a man? Over her dead body!
Emily Prentiss was strong. People had kept reminding her of it, but it hadn't been until Angela Hunter came into her life, that she finally allowed herself to believe it was true.
She was a fighter. A warrior. An independent woman, who was not afraid to admit that she wanted someone in her life. A man could never take away what she stood for. Not anymore. She wasn't fifteen anymore. Emily Prentiss was strong. She could handle life and all of its lemons. Hell, she'd squeeze those lemons into her vodka based drink and she'd make a toast, with all of her friends, to the sourness of life and to all the crap she had been through. She'd keep her head held high and she'd laugh at all the troubles she had been through. And that would be okay, because she'd be drinking with her best friends, toasting over something that she had overcome, with the help of those same best friends. She would smile and it would then be her turn to give life the middle finger, because Emily Prentiss was a Boss. She was a warrior. She knew what she was worth and she would go after her dreams, with her head held high and her best friends, right by her side.
The Hell with everything else…
She already had her best friends. She somewhat had Angela now, too. She wasn't done fighting for her just yet. She never would be.
And at that moment, she had Richard, standing right in front of her, next to the magnificent Fontaine Medicis – a place that had been the beginning of two of Emily's best things in life and was now the beginning of Richard's second rollercoaster ride with that woman.
After the longest moment - them both staring at each other's eyes, he finally broke the silence.
"Lauren-..." He said, a tone just above a whisper.
"No. Don't call me that." Emily countered right away, not letting him utter one more word that he meant for Lauren.
"My name is Emily. It's always been Emily. You never really met Lauren...and thank God for that." She added, that feeling of weakness and being unsure of herself once more creeping into her. But it was okay. She could handle it.
He opened his mouth, barely. She saw his lips part and she knew he wanted to speak.
"Shh. Please don't speak..." She pleaded silently, showing him just how vulnerable she felt.
Her pointy finger was now against his lips, physically preventing him from parting them one more time. They looked beautiful, the way they were – shut, against each other, so full, so tempting and so inviting.
She had to remind herself that physical attraction was not the reason why she had jumped on that plane.
"It took everything in me, to go against everything I have ever stood for. I prayed the entire plane ride that my instincts were right...about you...about us. I know you're not who you said. But I wasn't either. And that's okay…" She started off.
The way she came out and just said it – that she knew he wasn't who he was pretending to be, didn't sit well with him.
He had to speak. He couldn't hold it in anymore. She had silenced him more than enough times already. The truth had to be told.
As soon as his lips parted, with her finger still pressing against them, she pouted. He stopped immediately, with pain written all over his face. He could not bear the thought of being the one to put a frown on her face.
"Shhh. Please let me finish." She said desperately and he decided to comply. He could simply not deny her. Ever.
"There are things about me that I wanted to neglect that week. I played a role...I needed to be someone else. But I ended up being 100% myself...because I never planned on this. On you. On us. And it happened and the more it was happening the more confused I was and I couldn't just bare my soul to you. I was afraid you would leave. So, now, please tell me that annoying voice in my head was right...the one who told me it was real, the night we spent together...the voice that prompted this...us...me giving you the power over me, the power I never wanted to give a man...not after what a man did to me, last time I did so..."
Her voice cracking at the end of a very steady speech, was what worried him. She had been more than vague, but he knew. Richard knew. Her eyes told him what her mouth had refused to ever speak of, since she was fifteen.
"Ma chérie..." He exclaimed, now being the one to frown. How should a man react to such news? Was there a proper way of reacting? Of replying? Of dealing with what her words even suggested?
"No. Don't talk. Please. I will chicken out and leave. As I always do. But I don't want to. Not now. Not with you. Not when I believe this is real. I would be stupid not to take a chance on you. On us. Right here, right now. Screw long distance. Screw our jobs. Screw everything and everyone. I know what I want and what I want..."
She trailed off and he wanted to hate her for it. She was a tease, an international woman of mystery, one that was making him go insane at that moment, making him wait for her to finish that sentence.
None of them had initiated physical contact so far, apart from her finger against his lips.
She moved closer to him, almost pressing against him. She had had enough time, with distance between them. No more! The Hell with distance…
"…is you." She finally finished that thought.
He exhaled, almost feeling her against him as his chest rose slightly when he inhaled one more time.
His hands were kept by his side and he had to constantly remind himself to behave and to not cave in to the physical attraction he was feeling towards her. This was not what he was after. Not with her.
He swiped sweat off the palm of his right hand, letting it brush against his suit pants, very casually. And then he reminded himself once more that he should not touch her. She hadn't asked him to. She hadn't given him the green light to do so. She had requested silence and privacy, so she could bare her heart and soul to him and that was exactly what he gave her.
"You can speak now..." She shivered, suddenly feeling cold. She was, after all, feeling naked, in the middle of a park, holding her heart in the palm of her hands and now extending those hands over to a man who could change her life forever.
As soon as she said those words, he relaxed and let his hands hold hers.
For the longest moment, he cupped her palms, letting his fingers brush against her skin slowly before his hands ultimately traveled up. They stopped for a brief moment, on her hips, holding her just the way she had found out she liked. He had made her figure it out. He had been the first man to ever appreciate a stupid bone, her hips, just a bone where her belt usually laid on. There wasn't much else to it. But he had found the beauty of it, nonetheless. And she had found the comfort of his touch, right there, with him pulling her close before his hands traveled up her sides and ultimately ended up enwrapping her in a hug.
And there it was – his heart, beating at the same jagged rhythm, as hers. Was he vulnerable too?
She could now fully inhale the scent that she remembered so well. His eau de cologne. It wasn't exactly like the one she had been spraying at home. Yes, it was the same brand, same product, but this one now smelled better. It was a mixture of the perfume and his body and it was perfect. It was mysterious, sexy, alluring…just like him.
He wouldn't dare to kiss her, not just yet. He knew her well enough. Lauren or Emily – whatever she might want to call herself; he knew she would freak out if he made a move.
"Talk to me…" He pleaded, bringing one hand to cup her cheek, but not before brushing a tear away from it.
She wasn't afraid to cry in front of him anymore.
She didn't mind showing him her vulnerable side. Her Emily side…
He was smart enough to have figured out that there was way more that she needed to say. She had only given him the green light to speak, out of courtesy. She didn't want to be an egoist and to make this a monologue, rather than a conversation.
She had also wanted to show him that they were equal. They had the same rights. She spoke, so he had to speak too. He listened, she would then listen. It wasn't about power or dominance. That message of hers got received by him, loud and clear.
"I am afraid you might say something that would change everything and I don't know how to cope with that. So, please, just tell me if this is real. I don't care who you are. I know you are a good person inside and, for now, this is all I want to know about you. And I don't want to talk about my job. It's stressful and it sucks and I love every second of it, nonetheless. But I need to learn how to love, outside of the job. And I want to do this with you. So, I won't ask what you do for a living, as long as you don't ask me. I want my time with you to be about us. And no, this is not me keeping secrets. Again. I'm a good person. Emily is an amazing, strong, powerful woman...who just needs someone by her side, so she could also be happy. Can you do this for me? Can you respect my request?"
She didn't want to give him an ultimatum, but this was what she needed and she had promised herself she'd tell him the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.
"I would really love to tell you everything about me..." Richard also spoke his truth. He wasn't okay with what she was suggesting. He needed to get a lot off his chest and her little request was preventing him from doing so, yet again.
"No. I'm not ready for it. I don't want things to change." She said, with determination.
He then knew he had to drop it, no matter how hard it was. Each time she had prevented him from speaking the truth, he had found it harder and harder to keep it in. It wouldn't be fair to her when, one day, it would all come out. And this was inevitable. He didn't want to start anything with her, before she knew exactly who he was.
And yet – she was begging him to keep that secret.
"Please... Let's agree to only talk about our jobs when it is a matter of life or death? Something so big that we know we must not keep a secret? Otherwise, I want you...and I don't care what you do. I can take it. Emily is strong. She doesn't care about your money or how illegal your activities might be..." She continued.
"Woah. Hold up. There is nothing illegal about me and my job. I can assure you of that." Defensive – this was a new side to Richard that she was just seeing.
"Good. That's good enough. For now. I am more than willing to tell you everything about me, my life, my job, have you meet my friends...but not now. Not yet. Please understand..." She was no longer pleading. She was downright begging. And that took a lot of courage to do.
"Are you sure you want this? Us..." He asked, needing one more confirmation.
"Never been more sure of anything in my life!" Emily replied instantly, bringing her hands to hold him, too.
"Ok then. Let's do this." He whispered, bringing his lips closer to hers and letting them linger there for a moment.
"I'm all in, Richard." She said, with her head held high, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. But this time she would not be the first one to kiss. She had given him enough power and enough leeway to be the first one to kiss.
For the first time, Emily Prentiss did not want to kiss him.
She wanted him to kiss her.
"I'm all in, Emily." He said happily.
Hearing her real name escape his lips for the first time ever, made her smile. And now all she needed was to feel those lips, against her own.
He obliged happily.
Holding her tight, he kissed her with all he had. It felt like a lifetime that they spent like this, kissing, with her literally melting in his hands, letting out a few of those soft moans that she had learned to appreciate.
They didn't need to say more words. words could not express what they felt.
What Emily needed was to feel his hands, caressing her body and holding her like she was finally his. And she was – she was finally his and it felt…good, it felt…right. As weird as this sounded, in her own head, it felt…natural. She had never felt so comfortable and easygoing, in the hands of any other man. She needed him to hold her, to complete her, to challenge her, to make her laugh and to make her mad. She needed him to be someone she could talk to, so she could finally learn how to trust another human being completely, with no reservations. No lies. No pretending. No more secret identities. No more Lauren. No more pain from the past. A clean slate…Emily Prentiss needed a new relationship where she would be completely herself and where a man would see her for who she really was, not for her job and not for her money. She wanted someone to love her – Emily, the geeky weirdo who sometimes would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and who would randomly make a fool out of herself in public, the woman who would laugh at herself and who could take a joke. She needed him to figure out who she was, before he would learn about the Unit Chief, the job and the past she had. The Hell with the past. This was her present. And she needed him to be her future.
And what Richard needed, instead of words, was her. All of her. He wanted to hold her like she was his and to love her the way no other man ever had. He wanted to do stupid little mundane things with her, he wanted to make her laugh, he wanted to make her happy and occasionally he also wanted to enrage her until she would be fired up and fuming, screaming at the top of her lungs. He would then calm her down and he would tame her daemons, making love to her like she had never experienced such pleasure before. He needed her to be his other half, but without specifying which one was the 'better' half. He needed a woman who would be his equal and so far the only woman he had ever met, who felt completely equal to him – nothing more, nothing less and the best of all…not even wanting to be more or less than him; was Emily. Her. No competition. No games. No lies. No deceit. He wanted a woman that he could look at and see her full worth – with her best qualities, her random other qualities and her worst qualities, too. He needed a woman who would laugh her ass off with him, but a woman who would also be able to break down completely, who would let him hold her as she'd sob and cry, a woman who would not be afraid or ashamed to be human. Also, a woman who would then turn around and say something so incredibly random and dorky, that she would make both of them laugh, right when the tears would have stopped. Unpredictable. Amazing. Challenging. Emotional. Passionate. Spontaneous. Courageous. Insecure. Strong. Bossy. Flirty. So damn inappropriate. He needed a woman who would be all of those and more. He needed her to be everything, he needed her to be perfect and to also have her flaws, but to be proud of those flaws, even willing to admit them out loud. And the only woman of that kind he had ever met in his entire life was her. Emily. She used to be 'Lauren' to him in the past. She was 'Emily' to him in the present. And he wanted her to be 'everything' to him, in their future.
REVIEW REPLIES:
"rmpcmfan" Well, dreams are messy and weird to decipher, remember this. Maybe it's their conscious, just messing with them? Like, how they both thought Angela or Bella were the same other little girl from the dream. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren't. :) I reeeeeeeeeeeeally enjoy writing flashbacks and dream scenes! I will need lots of those in the future chapters, to explain the past of a few characters. Also, I'm a sucker for emotionally-loaded scenes, so I try to write those whenever they make sense, lol, I just hope they come out as nice as I want to write them (you know, the whole 'I'm not a native English speaker' thing holds me back). As for Emily's decision...hope you enjoyed the execution of that decision, lol! She's a bit over the top, but ain't that why we adore her? :P
"sweetkid45" Your hopes have been rewarded in this current chapter, hehe! :) And yeah, I'd like to see Angie and Emily's relationship go deeper (PLATONIC!). They both seem to enjoy each other's company a lot!
