Chapter Text
a year after…
The rest of Emma’s senior year is pretty uneventful in comparison to how it started, and it allows her and all her friends to start focusing more on the future and less on the past, or even the present.
Brooke can’t stop talking about moving to New York after graduation, Stavo can’t stop pestering Noah about committing to a third graphic novel while he’s in Boston at M.I.T. and Audrey’s recently decided to follow her mother’s advice and take a gap year to travel.
And Emma, well, she’s not quite sure.
She applied to Lakewood University after Halloween, but that determination had been short-lived, and by the time she got her acceptance letter, she wasn’t as confident in her decision anymore, and her path hasn’t gotten any clearer since.
“I think there’s something wrong with me,” she confides in her therapist one day towards the end of April.
Therapy is usually reserved for her more emotional hang ups and not things she can talk to her friends or mom about, but the school year is slowly winding down and the walls are slowly closing in, and she can’t keep it inside any longer.
If her therapist is surprised by the sudden declaration, she doesn’t show it. “How so?”
Emma stalls for a moment, takes a breath, and then lets it out.
“All my friends, everyone in my grade, they can’t stop talking about next year,” she explains. “Everyone is so excited about whatever they’re doing and I’m just… not.”
Compared to the other things Emma has discussed and admitted in this room, she doesn’t understand why this objectively innocent admission feels like such a big deal, but it does.
“Change can be scary,” the older woman reasons. “A lot of high school students are afraid of what awaits them after graduation.”
“But I’m not afraid, I just don’t feel anything about it,” Emma argues. After everything she’s been through, a little change doesn’t frighten her. “I’m not sure I want to go to college anymore.”
The therapist nods like she knew that was coming, which she probably did, since it’s kind of her job to and all, but also; “This isn’t the first time you’ve questioned pursuing further education,” she acknowledges, referring to her previous post-Kieran plea deal and pre-Halloween apathy. “What do you think it is that has you doubting your plans now?”
“It just seems so pointless,” Emma bemoans, picking at the worn down denim of her jeans. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in high school, it’s that life is short.” It’s not a revolutionary discovery by any means, but it’s hard not to realize that when your classmates keep dying around you and you come close a few times yourself. “I could spend years in med school, working myself to the bone, and then just drop dead the day after I graduate and it would have all been for nothing.”
“That’s true of anything, though,” is the counter argument she gets. “That’s the unforgiving nature of life.”
And doesn’t Emma know it.
“But then shouldn’t I be spending my time doing something worthwhile?” she wonders. “Something I’m actually excited by?”
Her therapist hums, takes off her glasses and places them atop the little notebook filled with all of Emma’s issues and traumas.
“So is it higher education in general you’re questioning, or is it perhaps the career path you’ve chosen for yourself?”
Emma bites back her scoff at the idea of her supposedly chosen career path, but only because she’s not sure how she could argue the word choice; it’s not like her mother forced the idea on her, but it never felt like her own, either.
“I don’t know,” she admits after a brief moment of genuine consideration. “I’ve always just assumed I’d go into medicine like my mom. I’ve never really had any passions or hobbies like my friends do; Audrey has her movies, Brooke has fashion, Noah and Stavo have their graphic novel and all that stuff; even Will had basketball. I’ve never had anything like that.”
That’s not entirely true, she supposes, remembering afternoons on the piano with her father before he left her, but that doesn’t feel like the same thing.
Her therapist nods again and offers her a friendly smile.
“Well, it’s never too late to find something,” she tells her kindly. “Or yourself.”
Talking about it doesn’t suddenly give Emma any of the answers she’s seeking, but it does help ease some of the weight off her chest.
It might seem like there’s a time limit to this whole figuring herself out thing, but like her therapist - and Audrey before her - said, she’s got time.
So, instead of thinking about what happens after high school ends, Emma decides to focus on what’s left of it.
Namely, the prom, if only because that’s what Brooke keeps focusing on.
“Do you know what you’re wearing yet?” her friend asks from the changing room of the fourth store they’ve checked that afternoon; the fact that she’s only asking Emma this now goes to show just how seriously Brooke is taking this.
Emma almost laughs from the other side of the door. “I don’t even have a date,” she reminds her casually, not particularly bothered by that detail.
“Why don’t you just ask Audrey?”
“I could,” Emma muses, eyeing the dresses Brooke has rejected so far. “Maybe her, Noah and I can do a group thing if he backs out of asking that Ava girl.”
“I don’t mean just ask Audrey, Em,” the other blonde grunts, sounding like she’s struggling to slip on her next dress. “I mean, why don’t you just finally ask Audrey out already?”
Emma balks at the clarification, her eyes widening and swinging towards the closed door in confused surprise.
“What?”
Brooke’s scoff can be heard loud and clear.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t realized you’re totally in love with her yet,” her friend moans with obvious exasperation. “I know you can be dense sometimes, but I thought therapy would have helped with that.”
“I-,” Emma sputters and stops, at a loss for what to say to the other girl’s sudden bluntness on a topic they’ve only briefly discussed once, and only to dance around it. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Em, I’m not dumb or blind,” Brooke responds a little more kindly this time. “You guys are my best friends and I know heart eyes when I see them; it’s been insufferable watching you two all year and waiting for something to happen.”
Emma instinct is to deny Brooke’s claim - or to at least play dumb - but the words don’t come any easier than on her previous attempts to speak.
Probably because she knows it’s fruitless, but maybe it’s because she doesn’t even want to deny it.
Because what would be the point?
For all of Emma’s identity issues this past year, the only question she’s really been able to find an answer to has been this one.
The immense relief she felt when Audrey and Gina broke up just before Christmas wasn’t quite enough to confirm her inklings, but the returning jealousy she felt when her best friend briefly started dating a girl from Warren in the new year sealed the deal.
Emma liked Audrey; she like liked her.
Actually, she was in love with her.
It was a realization that didn’t shock her or send her spinning much at all; honestly, it was the first thing that made any sense to her in a really long time.
She didn’t tell anyone about it, though, because as sure as she was about her own feelings, she was a lot less so of Audrey’s.
Yeah, Emma hadn’t been alone in her bed that night a year ago - or in the barn even before that - but emotions were high and thoughts and actions weren’t exactly rational and Audrey said she loved her, past tense. Just because she responded to Emma’s desperation one night didn’t necessarily mean anything and Audrey was always acting so uncharacteristically cool about all of it, and Emma wasn’t about to risk messing up the most important relationship in her life with a silly confession.
But now, as Brooke calls her out on those feelings through the dressing room door of a boutique in the Springfield mall, Emma suddenly wonders if maybe she should have.
Or, she at least wonders if confessing them to Brooke might be the next best thing.
“Something might have already happened,” she admits on a whim, the door between them making this easier. “But I don’t know.”
After that one therapy session, Emma spent a year thinking about that night but not over thinking it; she thought about Audrey’s hands and fingers and lips and how amazing and safe they made her feel, but she never thought about what they - what it - meant.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Brooke demands in confusion, her question accompanied by the sound of rushed shuffling. “Either something happened or it didn’t.”
Emma gets why someone would think that, but that would require things to be simple, and nothing in her life ever is, at least not lately.
“Well,” Emma begins, drawing the word out as she hesitates for a moment, weary of the reaction she might get. “We had sex, but-”
The dressing room door bursts open so suddenly and so harshly, it always smacks her in the face. “What?!” Brooke shrieks in scandalized shock, her exclamation surely echoing throughout the moderately sized store.
Emma cringes at her reaction, but has enough presence of mind to push the half naked blonde back into the dressing room before she can say anything else.
“I really don’t think this is the place to have this conversation, Brooke,” she hisses through the door. “Get dressed and we’ll talk about this after we finish shopping.”
Brooke scoffs obnoxiously loudly. “Oh, we’re so done shopping,” she informs Emma, even though there were at least two other stores on their list to check out. “We have much more pressing matters to tackle now.”
Emma groans and drops her head back against the door, hoping she doesn’t regret this.
After a silent ride back to Brooke’s house and an order to her mother not to disturb them, Emma is dragged upstairs and interrogated so thoroughly, her friend gets more information out of her than any cop ever has.
Emma tells Brooke everything, from Kieran’s words that haunted her and why, to the nightmare they produced and the way she decided to deal with that feeling (and why); she tells her how Audrey reacted the next morning and every day since; what she said about it in therapy, and why it took her so long to realize what happened that night had been more than just a coping mechanism, or at least that it meant more than that.
She also tells her why she hasn’t said anything to Audrey about it and why she doesn’t think she should; it’s only then that Brooke stops asking questions long enough to say something else.
“You have to tell her how you feel,” she insists sternly. “I’m telling you, Em, that girl is still totally in love with you, and if you don’t tell her you feel the same then you’re just robbing the both of you of something that could be so amazing.” A playful smirk curls at the corner of Brooke’s lips as she adds; “And more importantly, you’d be robbing me of finally getting to see you two idiots finally get together.”
Emma can’t help but laugh after unburdening so much of herself, surprised to find it feels a lot lighter than any time she’s done it in therapy.
“And what kind of a friend would I be if I let that happen?” she replies just as playfully.
“A very bad one,” Brooke agrees, sounding like she means it just a little bit, despite the smile on her face. “No, but I’m serious, Em, you won’t ruin anything if you tell her. You two could have something so good together, and you both deserve that after everything you’ve been through.”
Her friend sounds nothing but sincere now - not a trace of teasing in her voice or in her words - and Emma knows she’s right, about everything.
It’s just a matter of if she’ll listen or not.
Brooke spends the next two weeks pestering Emma any chance that she gets, and Emma spends the next two weeks trying to ignore her.
She also spends it trying to figure out why.
Because if she’s being honest, deep down Emma’s always known that Audrey most likely still feels the same, and it’s not like she’s hung up on the fact that she likes a girl or anything - her sexuality is just about the last thing Emma’s worried about.
A casual observer would probably assume it’s trust issues, considering her last three love interests either completely betrayed and humiliated her, or they were serial killers, but it’s not; despite certain reasons why she maybe shouldn’t, there’s nobody in the world Emma trusts more than Audrey, with her body or her heart.
But maybe that’s where her hesitancy comes in; maybe she’s not afraid her confession will mess up their friendship, but that their potential relationship will.
Maybe after all she’s been through and all the damage it’s caused to her psyche, the thing holding Emma back is just a time honored cliche straight out of a best friends to lovers rom-com.
Except it’s no small thing, because Emma knows that losing Audrey again - and this time, for good - would be the one thing she wouldn’t survive.
The weeks go by and Brooke doesn’t stop pestering Emma and Emma doesn’t stop ignoring her, but it slowly becomes less and less, until there’s only a month until graduation, and prom is in half that time, and Brooke hasn’t mentioned it once all day.
Granted, Audrey, Noah and Stavo are around too, but that’s never stopped her before.
It’s a Saturday and the five of them are hanging out in the Maddox’s backyard, lounging around the pool, and Brooke hasn’t made any pointed comments or sent her any looks. Not even when Noah starts to regale them with the details of how he finally asked Ava - the cute girl that’s always coming into the video game store - to prom.
Emma loses interest about halfway through and excuses herself under the guise of refilling her drink, but when she gets inside, she doesn’t even stay in the kitchen longer than it takes to leave her empty glass.
She’s been in Brooke’s house more times than she can count, but it’s so big and Mr. Maddox was so secretive, that there’s plenty of places for her to explore in her boredom.
Which is how she finds herself in a room she’s never been in before, sitting on a bench in front of a grand piano she had no idea Brooke had. The layer of dust on the top suggests it’s not used very often, but as Emma presses the keys experimentally and brings it to life, she’d never be able to tell.
Memories of playing with her father come back to her before any actual knowledge does, but she keeps moving her fingers anyway, until something that sounds vaguely familiar comes out.
Emma has no idea how long she’s in there for, but it must be a lot longer than it would take her to get a drink, because eventually someone comes looking for her.
And of course, it’s Audrey.
“Like riding a bike, huh?” her best friend asks from her spot in the doorway, where she’s casually leaning against the frame and watching her.
Emma wonders how long she’s been there, but she doesn’t ask.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bail on you guys,” is what she says instead, her hands falling to her lap as if she’s been caught doing something she’s not supposed to do.
“It’s cool,” Audrey assures her as she pushes herself off her perch and moves to join her. “Noah’s stories always end up being three times as long as they need to be, I get it; he really needs an off switch.” She slides in beside Emma, the bench small, but just long enough to fit the two of them. Their bare shoulders and thighs are touching and Audrey’s looking at her and Emma feels like a school girl around her suddenly. “What were you playing? It sounded pretty good.”
“It was nothing,” the blonde shrugs, wringing her hands together nervously. “Just something my dad taught me.” She can’t even remember the name of it, if it even had one.
The topic of Emma’s father is always a sore one for the two of them, but instead of focusing on that, Audrey nudges her and changes it.
“You remember anything else?” she wonders lightly, her own fingers pressing keys randomly.
Emma’s not sure if she does, but Audrey’s asking, so she gives it a try.
She starts hesitantly, cringing when she immediately misses a few notes in a row, but she keeps going, knowing Audrey will wait until she figures it out.
Eventually she finds the rhythm she’s searching for and suddenly it all comes back to her like it was just yesterday, her fingers moving almost mindlessly over the keys and creating music that’s probably mediocre, but she still feels proud of when the song’s done.
“Damn, Em,” Audrey whistles through a grin. “Forget Lakewood U and call up Julliard.”
She’s obviously joking, but it’s also just as obvious that she’s genuinely impressed too, and the pure affection Emma can feel radiating off Audrey combined with the high of her impromptu performance has her speaking before she can think about it.
“Do you wanna go to prom with me?” Emma asks the girl beside her, and though the question is sudden, it’s spoken with a levelness that should tell the brunette that it’s not as much of a whim as it seems.
But even if Audrey picks up on that, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t still surprise her.
“What?” she asks softly and with a tilt of her head, doing her best impression of Emma in conversations with Brooke.
“Prom,” Emma repeats, shifting slightly on the small bench so that their knees are touching now and she can see Audrey better. “Do you want to go with me?”
“As friends?” the other girl assumes, or maybe gives her one last chance to back out.
But Emma doesn’t even consider taking it.
“As my date,” she affirms with a smile she hopes looks as confident as she feels. But just in case it doesn’t, Emma reaches out and takes her best friend’s hands in her own, as she officially asks, for the third time; “Audrey, will you go to the prom with me?”
And while Audrey’s answer isn’t immediate, the grin on her face is, and it tells Emma all she needs to know.
“Seriously, Em?” she eventually says anyway, with an infectious laugh and shining eyes. “Of-fucking-course I will.”
Emma’s smile in response mirrors Audrey’s in size and brightness, and she really didn’t think that she’d be kissing her best friend today when she woke up this morning, but she’s always liked pleasant surprises.
This kiss is slower, softer and more chaste than their last one, but it’s driven by nothing other than the giddy joy that pulls their lips together - except maybe love - and it makes Emma feel just as safe.
When Emma tells Brooke about it all later, and her friend asks what finally made her do it, she finds it hard to explain.
It was a combination of things, she thinks, but more than anything, it was just this feeling she had in that moment, this feeling of overwhelming trust and unwavering love that Audrey always makes her feel.
The feeling that’s been there all year - and long before that, too - that she had gotten so used to, she’d forgotten just how special it is.
Sitting there at that piano like she used to with her dad, Emma just knew in that moment that nothing that could happen between them could make her lose Audrey; that if her best friend was still there then - sitting right beside her, after everything - she always would be.
And Emma wasn’t going to let fear convince her otherwise anymore, not after she’d promised herself not to be afraid of anything ever again.
The shift from friends to something more isn’t immediate, but neither of them are in any rush; it took them so long to get here and on the same page, a little bit longer won’t hurt.
That in-between period is more exciting than awkward, at least for Emma, and it’s like she finally understands that feeling she’s read so much about, that she only ever had inklings of with Will and Kieran.
They haven’t sat down and talked about it yet, or even kissed again since, but everything they say and do has a new underlying layer of intention to it that makes it obvious their dynamic has changed.
So obvious, that they don’t even have to tell most of their friends and family about it.
Noah’s enthusiasm about the new development rivals Brooke’s, and while Stavo is as stoic as ever, he makes sure to voice his support, too.
Audrey’s mom cries when they tell her over Skype - happy tears, she swears - while her father is much less excited. He’s always tolerated the fact that Audrey likes girls, but he’s never wanted to discuss it, and this time is no different, but Audrey says his reaction to Emma was more positive than it was to Gina - or Rachel before her - so she takes it.
Maggie is as supportive as Emma knew she would be, but her support doesn’t come without its concern, too.
Namely, that they’re going to be separated come the fall.
“You know I love Audrey like a daughter,” her mother starts gently, “and I couldn’t dream of a better partner for my little girl, but long distance is hard enough for established relationships, I don’t think you realize how difficult it might be for you two.”
Emma rolls her eyes and shakes her head, thinking back to her preschool days with Audrey, and wondering what kind of relationship could be more established than theirs.
“We’re just going to prom, Mom, we haven’t made any other commitments than that,” the younger blonde informs the older one, but it does little to reassure her, because the yet at the end of her sentence might’ve been unsaid, but not unheard.
But after enough battles between them, Maggie knows when not to push. “I just want to make sure you girls are being smart about this; I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
Emma softens at the concern, understanding it because she had the same one, but she got over it, and Maggie will, too.
Besides, she’s been thinking a lot these past few weeks, and if things work out the way she wants them to, it will all be moot anyway.
“Actually, Mom,” Emma begins tentatively, flashing the woman a strained smile, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
It’s a conversation that lasts much longer than just that afternoon, but after a lot of begging, convincing, and even fighting - and a talk with Emma’s therapist - Maggie reluctantly agrees to her daughter’s plan just before prom.
That’s not the end of it, though, since Emma still has to get one more person onboard, but that can wait, because for now, she wants to focus on nothing but the big dance happening tomorrow night.
She wanted Audrey to sleep over, but Brooke categorically denied her request and insisted on sleeping over herself to make sure her friends didn’t go behind her back.
“It’s bad luck to see each other the night before prom,” she explains from the spot on Emma’s bed. “And especially not the day of.”
Which is why they’re going over to Brooke’s house in the morning to spend the day getting ready, while Audrey is getting ready at Noah’s place with him and Stavo, much to her chagrin.
“This isn’t a wedding,” Emma complains with a roll of her eyes, even though she knows her friend isn’t going to budge on this; they’ve all been victims of Brooke’s strict prom rules and regulations for the past month, it certainly wasn’t about to change just because they’re finally in the home stretch.
(Her quest to have the perfect prom experience and win prom queen all feels like overcompensating for blowing the Lady of the Lake competition last year, but none of them are brave enough to mention it to her.)
“It may as well be,” the other blonde replies dramatically as she texts her boyfriend. “The big reveal as we walk down the stairs to our dates is basically the equivalent of walking down the aisle.”
Emma just laughs softly to herself and focuses on her own phone, which she’s currently texting her… whatever Audrey is to her now, on.
Brooke’s driving me insane, she complains.
Just indulge her, is Audrey’s speedy suggestion. You know she’s just freaking out about high school ending.
Emma knows Audrey’s right, because they’re all dealing with things ending in their own ways, it’s just a shame Brooke’s way is so annoying to everyone around her.
I wish you were here, Emma finds herself typing without thinking about it.
Me too, Audrey replies, throwing in a cute emoji for good measure. I’d rather listen to Brooke rant about prom than Noah waxing poetic about the color of Ava’s eyes any day.
Emma smirks, picturing the look on Audrey’s face perfectly.
You’d also rather share a bed with me too, right? she asks, knowing a little flirting is just what the other girl needs to cheer up.
Duh, Audrey promises, before telling her that Noah’s enthusiasm for his date has turned into anxiety and she has to calm him down. I’ll see you at the bottom of the stairs, Duval. I’ll be the best looking one in a suit <3
Emma grins dumbly down at her phone for another couple of minutes, until Brooke’s demanding her full attention once again.
The day of prom is a blur of makeup, hair and minor meltdowns, but Emma survives, and more impressively, so does Brooke.
When the time comes, their mothers are there to let their dates (and Noah and Ava) in, and as much as Emma plans on denying it to her friend later, she has to admit, at least to herself, that watching Audrey watch her descend the stairs in her prom dress is definitely worth the trouble of Brooke’s nonsense.
Emma knows she’s what people consider pretty, but she’s never been looked at the way Audrey is looking at her right now.
(She really hopes her mother has already started taking pictures.)
“Wow,” the other girl says under her breath, but Emma sees her mouth say it more than she hears it, like she didn’t even mean to say it out loud.
It pulls her lips into a grin that’s big but shy, and she takes the hand Audrey offers her to help her down the final two steps.
“Thanks,” the blonde tells her once they’re on the same level, keeping their hands linked as she waits for Audrey to actually say something.
“You look fucking unbelievable, Em,” her date eventually declares, raising their arms so she can spin Emma around and get a look at her whole dress.
Emma’s cheeks warm as she untangles their hands so she can straighten out Audrey’s matching navy blue tie. “You look pretty amazing yourself; definitely the best looking in a suit.”
Before Audrey can reply, Brooke has made her grand entrance and pulled everyone’s attention, so Emma makes due with the feeling of her best friend’s arm wrapping around her, and her hand settling on the curve of her waist possessively.
After taking pictures for far too long, the group of six pile into the limo Brooke rented and head towards George Washington High.
Emma stays pressed to Audrey’s side the whole way over and immediately threads their fingers together when they get out, feeling clingier than usual as Brooke’s prom enthusiasm finally spreads.
She actually feels giddy as they walk across the bustling parking lot, and not at all nervous about their official debut as a couple, or whatever it is they are.
They haven’t been hiding the shift in their relationship status since it happened, but things between them have shifted so gradually that Emma’s sure most of their classmates haven’t noticed.
Walking into prom together, matching and holding hands, though, that they’ll notice.
And maybe that should be nerve wracking, considering Emma’s history with being the center of attention, but it’s really not.
As she and Audrey walk into the dance behind their friends and eyes slowly start to turn their way, Emma’s never felt prouder to be seen.
Brooke wins prom queen, because of course she does, and even though he doesn’t win prom king, she shares her coronation dance with Stavo.
Emma watches them with her hands on her chin, so happy for her friend for finally getting everything she wanted, even if it’s not how she once dreamed it, because when Audrey eventually tugs her into the spotlight once the song changes to another slow one, Emma knows just how amazing that feels.
“I can’t believe this is our last school dance,” the shorter girl muses as they sway to the music.
“You say that like you’ve gone to most of them,” Emma teases, her fingers brushing the short hair at the back of Audrey’s neck.
“Hey, I went to the Halloween dance,” she protests, then cringes as that night comes back to them both. “This one’s definitely got that one beat.”
“Understatement,” Emma agrees with a soft laugh, letting the memories roll off her back instead of clinging to all the regrets that come with them.
“Maybe I would’ve gone to more if I had someone to go with,” Audrey considers rhetorically. “Other than Foster, I mean.”
Emma knows she doesn’t say it to imply anything - she stopped making those kinds of digs a long time ago - but she can’t help all the extra regrets that flood her when she contemplates the possibility too.
But there’s nothing Emma can do to change the past or get back that time they lost; all she can do is try to shape their future.
“I want to come with you,” she blurts out suddenly, once again so overwhelmed with feelings for Audrey that she can’t keep them - or her words - in any longer; Emma just can’t function properly around her best friend these days.
Audrey doesn’t look any less confused this time than she did before. “What?”
“Next year,” Emma elaborates, trying not to let the way Audrey tenses scare her into backing out. “I want to defer my freshman year at Lakewood U and travel with you.”
Despite the way she stills, nothing else about Audrey’s body language or facial expression is negative, but Emma’s still a little apprehensive.
“Are you serious?” she eventually asks, eyes wide with surprise. She’s clearly processing the question and what she thinks is behind the question. “If this is you being afraid of what’ll happen to us if we spend the year apart, I promise you have nothing to worry about. I’ve been in love with you for half my life, I’m not gonna fuck it up now that I’ve finally got you. We’ll make it work.”
And even though the reassurance is misplaced, it still works its magic.
“I know we would,” Emma smiles softly, pulling Audrey closer as they have this important conversation in the middle of all their classmates. “But it’s not about that. And it’s not about running away, either, from Lakewood or myself,” she quickly adds, not sure if Audrey’s mind went there like her mother’s had.
Now relaxed in her arms, Audrey’s eyes dance with affectionate amusement, giving away her answer before she’s even heard Emma’s. “What’s it about then?”
“Finding myself, figuring out who I am,” Emma explains confidently, knowing Audrey knows better than anyone how much she’s been struggling with that. “And I never feel more like myself than when I’m with you.”
She watches as a dozen emotions flash across Audrey’s face, until it settles on unconditional understanding and unadulterated love.
But before she gives her answer, she reaches up to cup Emma’s cheeks and pulls her down to give her a kiss.
“I’d take you with me anywhere,” Audrey mumbles against Emma’s tingling lips, giving her a second (third) kiss and then pressing the blonde’s forehead against her own. “But only if you’re sure.”
Emma smiles softly through a laugh that’s just as soft, pulls Audrey flush against her for a hug, and it’s the only thing she’s sure of.
(As it turns out, anywhere is mostly iconic movie locations around Europe, as per the itemized list Noah made Audrey, but that’s fine by Emma.
That kind of stuff is part of what makes Audrey who she is, the same way Audrey is part of what makes Emma who she is, so it’s all the same to her.)
years after…
Emma covers a yawn as she pours over her too bright laptop screen, struggling to retain every single word of her notes as she reads them.
It’s not that she’s bored, it’s just that she’s tired, and there’s only so many times she can read about the different manifestations of grief in young adults before it becomes tedious, but that's the life of a master’s student, she supposes.
But just as she’s starting to really doze off, Emma hears a key turning in the lock and the door to their apartment opens to reveal her girlfriend, and suddenly she’s awake.
“Hey,” Audrey greets her, dropping her heavy bag by the door and heading towards her.
“Hey you,” Emma mumbles just as Audrey’s leaning down to give her a quick kiss.
Her girlfriend’s hand finds her ponytail as she surveys the mess Emma’s made of their coffee table.
“Have you eaten yet?” Audrey wonders, knowing Emma has a tendency to forget to do that when she’s studying.
Emma shakes her head, leaning it into Audrey’s side, even though her moment of fatigue has mostly passed. “Can you order a pizza?”
“Again?” Audrey groans, because they’ve had it for the last three days. But all Emma has to do is pout, and she gives in. “Fine,” she easily concedes, bumping Emma off her hip as she makes her way towards the kitchen. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Emma watches Audrey until she disappears from sight, and the way her whole body warms in her wake confirms to her just how lucky she really is.