Party Invitation
Emily's met Billy Bates once, when they first moved to southern Philly, Chris three months past his last meal so bent on not eating another human being Emily almost knocked the shit out of him. Jess had an alternative way to aid the situation, one that didn't involve Chris healing a broken jaw or Emily with busted knuckles. Jess trusted Billy, which meant Emily should too.
She doesn't.
"A moment?" Billy asks, one arm folded over his abdomen, smile worn and wrinkled. Jess glances at Emily, Emily rolls her eyes and nods. Jess pats her lightly on the shoulder, approval ringing in her face as she continues down the hall.
They watch her go, waiting for the click of one of the doors before they face one another, Emily's mask of indifference melting into a scowl. Billy's smile falls.
"How is she?"
"She's fine." Emily answers curtly. She wants to say spoiled and bratty but she doesn't, biting the inside of her cheek as Billy nods, once then twice.
"Has Patrick been to see you?"
"No." Emily crosses her arms. She considers telling him about Young Ha but she doesn't like the evident curiosity in his face, the blatant desire to hear the answer.
It wasn't common knowledge that Chris and Emily spent some time with Patrick and the Petty Goats when they were younger but those who did know seemed to always be surprised.
Emily knows why, has seen Patrick's basement.
"Ah, I see." Billy replies, eyes darting away. His gaze lingers on the door Jess went into. Emily bristles, skin prickling up in annoyance. Billy must sense her change in demeanor because he's turning back, expression apologetic and amused, hands raised in surrender.
"I'll leave you to it."
Emily doesn't respond, watches him head down the hall until he disappears behind a corner. She forces herself to relax, shoulders protesting as she stalks back towards the waiting room.
Jess beams when Emily comes through the door.
"Bonding time with the elderly? Didn't think you had it in you, Em." Jess smirks, watching Emily sit down across from her.
"He's creepy." Emily comments, ignoring Jess' pointed stare.
Jess rolls her eyes, a pink smile spreading across her mouth, one leg folded over the other, foot tapping lightly to the heavy base pounding beneath them. Emily didn't quite understand what it was with ghouls in the city that wanted to open their business to the human population.
"He's nice."
Emily thinks that if she was base all her assumptions, her life, on the idea of someone being pleasant to her, she'd be dead. Patrick was nice, was pleasant, until you dug underneath the façade and saw the real reason he managed to become the leader of four insane ghouls.
Emily knows realistically YoungHa was the least of their problems when it came to the Goats, too easily amused, too easily ready to wait out a bad situation just to see what happens. Pixie was a problem, Kiaan was a problem, Émelia was a problem. Emily hadn't even considered the other members, hadn't considered Patrick and his sick gang of art freaks driving down into Philadelphia but here they were.
A knock comes to the door, two quick taps that remind Emily of Don Cohen. It's not him that comes through the door, three years past dead, instead it's Billy, an old wrinkled smile brightening up his hollow face, head bald and smooth. Emily thinks he looks like a skeleton, Chris did too. She raised him well.
"I apologize for the wait." Billy tips his head slightly, a neatly wrapped meat package in one hand. "I didn't I'd ever see you here, Emily. I've heard word of your work throughout the city."
He sounds like Patrick. Emily doesn't respond, folding her arms across her chest as she stares at him, cold and steely. Billy chuckles deeply, Jess clicking her tongue.
"Jessica, your order." Billy says pleasantly, walking over to them. He sets the package on the coffee table between them, eyes hooded and low as he backs away, hands tucked behind his back.
"Thank you, Bill. You always know how to treat a girl right." Jess winks, Emily rolling her eyes so hard she's afraid she sprained something.
Another deep chuckle, "It's my pleasure. I'll leave you to it."
Emily watches him go, shoulders pinched tight together, eyes narrowing with each passing second. She doesn't relax until his footsteps fade, blending and melting into the noise of the jazz bar downstairs. Emily turns back to Jess, who is plucking twine from the package, expression soft and hungry.
"Did you want some?"
"No." Emily answers curtly, ignoring the curious glance Jess sends her. It's how most of their conversations have gone the past week, since Chris ate that ghoul, since Emily at a ghoul. She didn't know how to broach the subject, didn't want to but she knows, knows each time Jess glances at her there's a question, a suspicion, something Emily doesn't want to acknowledge.
Emily's only treaded carefully twice in her life, when the Doves first set up shop down the street from where her parents lived and when Chris and her shared a room in Patrick's apartment, hearing every creak of floorboard, every pained howl that came from the basement downstairs, Chris wrapped tight around her, eyes squeezed closed.
Emily shouldn't be able to compare not talking to her girlfriend to such bad situations but she finds herself doing it. It feels a lot like cowardice, a lot like fear and Jess knows, senses something wrong, hasn't looked at her the same since Emily climbed through her bedroom window, bloodied, with Chris right behind her.
"Do you not trust me?"
Emily turns to Jess, unraveling the scarf from around her neck, eyes locked on how tight Jess' fists are balled at her sides. The walk home had been quiet, painfully so, each step similar to a nail in the coffin, quietly hammering away, waiting.
"I do, Jess."
Jess looks at her. "Then why won't you tell me what happened that day? With Chris. I'm your family too, Emily. Or is it only convenient when you're feeling sorry for yourself? Matt knows. I know he does because you tell Matt everything, unlike me, your girlfriend."
Emily could tell Matt anything because he's easy to talk to, easy to drown into when everything is overwhelming and Matt wasn't a ghoul, wasn't a monster but he had the mentality of one, underneath that soft shell was someone who killed for her. Matt wasn't Jess and if he was, maybe, maybe Emily would care what he thought of her, how he felt about her but it's been two years since they dated and Emily knows Matt would die for her.
She doesn't know if Jess would, hasn't seen that frazzled panic in her eyes, and Emily doesn't know if she'd want Jess to sacrifice anything for her. But Emily would do it for her in a heartbeat, has before when Ashley became a little too cocky, a little to smug and Chris had to drag Emily from Ashley's broken, dismembered body because she wanted to hurt her girlfriend.
But Emily knows Jess knows, what she did that night, what Chris did that night.
"Jess-"
"What's the deal then? What's your deal?"
Emily stands there, staring at the growing frown, the furrowed brows and all she wants to is make Jess smile, make that awful, helpless expression disappear. It feels like there's a brick lodged in her throat, sharp and jagged, scraping down into her lungs, like shrapnel.
"Em-"
"I have to go." Emily says curtly.
Jess' expression crumples, arms coming to wrap around her torso, grey eyes dimming and she nods, slow and heavy. "Ok."
Emily leaves her scarf behind, takes the stairs instead of the elevator, thoughts filtering through piles and piles of hazed sludge. She's on the street before she realizes, voices knocking around in the air, smiling faces of people blurring by as she walks.
Emily thinks about calling Chris, thinks about turning around and apologizing, making up a lie but Jess would know, she always knows. It's something Emily's always hated about her, that intuition that's been following Jess around since middle school.
Mike calls, right on time, as if sensing the weight in the air, how it shifts, twisting.
"Em! I'm starving. Let's go out." Mike chatters happily, voice breathless and raspy.
"Yeah, okay." Emily huffs. No comment on how this is his third time going out, going hunting and Emily knows Mike's always been a bit greedy, a bit much in his binge eating.
A pause. "You okay?"
"The Lot. 10 minutes."
"Yes ma'am." Mike chuckles.
Emily hangs up, heels clicking along the sidewalk as she hurries past the few people walking in front of her. There's an ache burning inside her, something that feels an awful similar to a sinking nervous thought.
Emily's used to punching her way out of situations she doesn't like, used to bottling up frustration until the perfect moment came and she'd toss herself at it, at them, no matter how strong, how resilient and Mike's the perfect target.
The Lot is a filthy pile of garbage near the train station, once a petition went around from house to house to get it cleaned up and changed into something a bit more constructive. After a body was found there, people forgot about wanting to make it pretty.
Mike's leaning against the gate, eyes hesitant when they flicker up to Emily but he smiles, understanding.
"It's been a minute since you've wanted to kick my ass."
"Probably because we aren't dating and you stopped trying to fuck my girlfriend." Emily comments, moving past him and down the makeshift path cutting through piles of trash.
"Wasn't your girlfriend at the time." Mike reminds her. "No matter how weirdly possessive you are of her. Kinda makes me jealous, don't think you ever looked at me the same way you look at her."
He's right, Emily hadn't. Mike was eye candy, the hook around the arm, that winning sharp smile and the humans didn't know what he was capable of but the ghouls did.
"Sounds like you're bitching, Michael."
Mike faux pouts. "I'm wounded."
Emily spins to face him, fingers flexing at her sides as she stares at him, skin tearing open at the waist as her kagune sprouts out. Mike whistles, eyebrows raised and he steps to the side, shrugging off his jacket. He sets it on a patch of dirty packaged goods, rolling his shoulders, eyes blackening, fiery red veins sprouting from his eyes.
Emily's heel drags along the dirt, watching as a blackened, scaly mass slides out from his lower back, pointed at the end like a lizard's tail. She waits, listens to his slight inhale, the twitch in his right eye and-
Emily steps aside, narrowly dodging a fast swing, gaze meeting Mike's humored one as he zooms past her, slowed by two, tail wriggling through the air and Emily grinds her heel into the dirt, tentacle swiping through the air as it slams into Mike's side.
He catches it, just barely, hands cut up and bloodied as he staggers back, tail curled along the filthy ground like a cat. It reminds Emily vaguely of Ashley, just Mike had one tail opposed to four. Ashley's fit her though, sly as a fox, dangerous.
"You're miffed, Em."
"Shut up." Emily snaps, charging at him, kagune writhing at her sides. She teeters forward, the toe of her heel digging into the ground, air twisting as its forced to move, silver, pincher mouth tentacles smacking into Mike repeatedly.
Mike blocks some, misses others, kagune shielding most of the attacks, glistened black scales shining brightly. He grunts, left leg planted firm against the ground, tail sliding around one of Emily's tentacles, lifting and twisting and she curses loudly, eyes narrowing dangerously as he lifts her into the air before slamming her back down.
Emily catches her fall, face inches from the ground, breathing heavy and thick, tips of her kagune pivoting her from the ground. Mike chuckles breathlessly behind her, this raspy, uncoordinated noise.
"Jesus, that almost never happens!" Mike remarks. "You're distracted, Em. It's not good."
"Shut up, Munroe." Emily snarks, twisting up, two tentacles sinking deeper into the ground as she leans back. Mike's eyebrows lift, mouth flopping open, eyes wide when Emily's kagune grows longer, armored conjoined ligaments sprouting from her waist.
Oh.
"You have eight?!" Mike shouts, scandalized. "That's bullshit! And cheating."
"You agreed to this." Emily comments and then she's moving, Mike scrambling for his defenses, arms coming up to protect his face. She breaks through, his tail, his loose, weak attempt at defense, the squelch of his insides coating two of her tentacles as she digs through his stomach.
Mike coughs red, teeth grinding together until they break, eyes darting between Emily's impassive face and the the two kagunes sifting through his intensities.
"F-Fuck, fucking f-f-fruit cakes," Mike whines. "You're going to kill me, y-you gotta s-s-stop, Em."
Emily agrees, mind blanking as she watches his small intestine spill out onto the ground. She's gone too far, the armored limbs she's created too new, too similar to accepting the nature of what she's done.
Emily takes a step back, then another, eyes hooded and heavy as she watches Mike scrape his organs into his arms and try to shove them in his body, knees buckling and he sinks to the ground, breathing hard and labored.
"I'm sorry." Emily says quietly.
"Never playing this game again." Mike bitches. "Think you scared my body into shock."
Emily raises an eyebrow at him. "At least you can grow back. Like a damn lizard."
Mike glances up her, eyes blood shot, a weak smile slipping onto his face. "Think I deserve a story, now."
"What?"
"You haven't done this in a while, Em. What's got your mind bothered? Is it Jess?"
Emily shrugs, folding her arms across her chest, kagune slithering back inside. Mike studies her closely.
"Have you ever thought," Mike starts, words slurred and bloody, teeth slowly forming back together, busted, cracked lip stitching together. "That you're afraid of messing this up?"
"That's bullshit." Emily bites out, chest heaving and she wants to rip off Mike's lower jaw when he raises an eyebrow at her.
"Is it?"
Emily didn't know.
"Look, Em. We dated for a while. A long fucking time so I know you. Better than Matt, better than Jess and I know how you are." Mike says. "You're afraid and you shouldn't be. Tell her what's bothering you. Jess is great. She'll understand."
"I ate a ghoul." Emily admits quietly. "I ate a ghoul, Mike. It's not the same."
"You..." Mike gapes, eyes wide as he picks himself off the dampen grass. "You did what?"
"I don't know why." Emily does. She does know why. She wants to be stronger, she wants to protect Jess and Chris and Matt. Power comes with consumption.
"Em-"
"I know she knows. I know she does but I don't want to talk to her about it." Emily looks at him and it must be her expression, some dark, pathetic look because Mike turns away, face hardened into a frown.
"What... What do I do?" Emily doesn't like sounding weak, in this moment she does, fragile, breakable, and Mike sighs heavy, glancing back at her. His arms and hands stained red, tacky clots of darkened blood speckled across his skin.
"You should talk to her, Em."
"But-"
"You have to, Em." Mike tells her. "Does Chris know?"
Yes and he's eaten two. "Of course he does."
"Right, right," Mike waves his hand dismissively. "Of course he does. You two are going to be the death of me. What's the saying like mother, like son? I saw him. With his boyfriend or whatever, they're kind of cute together."
Emily shrugs noncommittally.
"You're essentially Chris' mom, what do you think of Josh?"
Emily wasn't sure, there was something off about him, something familiar in the way held himself together that reminded her of someone she met when she lived with Patrick.
"Does Ashley know? About you? Chris?"
"She suspects Chris. I'm pretty sure if she suspected me the CCG would already be at my door with an anonymous tip tucked under their arm." Emily tells him. Mike whistles.
"She fights dirty."
Emily agrees. Ashley knew a threat when she saw one, but she also liked seeing how things played out, how they worked and the fact that she liked Chris, enjoyed his company was probably the only thing that kept her from whispering his name into the CCG database. Emily hoped Ashley would continue to keep her mouth shut, otherwise.
"You got that look on your face." Mike says, wiping blood off his fully formed stomach. "That 'Bitch, better not say shit' look. You're going to kill her one day."
"Wanna help?" Emily asks, smiling.
"Yeah, sure. Not like she and I are friends. Help me up. My stomach hurts." Mike holds out a hand to her, legs stretched out on the filthy ground. Emily wrinkles her nose at him. Mike pouts.
"This is your fault, bitch!"
"Ugh! Why did I date you?" Emily snaps, clicking her tongue as she walks towards him. She grasps the dip in his arm, his hand closing around her forearm and lifts, easy, familiar like old times, Emily would say, if she was sentimental about anything beyond Chris.
"Because I'm hot? Nice stroke game? Gives good head?"
"God, forget I asked." Emily scoffs, flicking a dirt particle off her shoulder. "I hear enough about it from Matt."
Mike brightens. "Matt talks about me?"
Sometimes, when he's calm or half asleep and he'll wear that whimsical smile he used to wear whenever they used to date. Emily can hear Mike's heart quip, the slight stutter and she almost groans because of how gross it sounds, Michael Munroe in love.
"Gross. I'm leaving." Emily says, walking back down the dirt covered path. Mike snatches his jacket from on top of the pile, trailing behind her, still smiling, his white shirt ripped and stained red. The sidewalk is empty, sour smelling garbage lingering in the air.
"You gonna talk to Jess?"
"Guess so."
Mike clasps her on the shoulder, one gentle squeeze, then another. "Atta girl."
"You haven't eaten." Emily points out.
Mike chuckles, "I literally just put my stomach back in. I don't want to think about food."
"Tell your dumb boyfriend that I'll be by later."
Mike scratches the back of his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Uhm, actually he's staying at my place tonight so that's where he'll be. If... You want to stop be. I, actually, have to get ready for that."
Emily cocks an eyebrow at him.
Mike squirms, "I'm cooking? Human food? For a date. With candles."
"Sick." Emily's lips curl back, disgust rippling across her features. "Keep your gross gay shit to yourself."
"Yeah, yeah." Mike smiles. "I'll let you know how it goes."
Matt would probably beat him to it, but Emily shrugs, watches him head down the sidewalk, the confused looks of passerby's following. It leaves her with a warm feeling, knowing she doesn't have to worry about him or Matt.
"Gay." Emily mutters, turning on her heel.
The walk to Jess' feels heavier, slower, each crack in the sidewalk more defined, air sharper, muted noises of humans driving past, music a dull whisper in her mind. Emily doesn't think Mike is correct in his assumptions on why she keeps things from Jess, it's how she's always been, since she was a child keeping her lack of humanity from classmates, keeping her friendship with Chris secret from her parents.
It's the way she is.
Jess is waiting outside her apartment, legs folded underneath her, hair damp and in a loose ponytail. She looks up when Emily walks off the elevator, eyes rimmed red and tired and Emily's chest tightens. Jess cracks a smile, shaky and small.
"Hey."
Emily swallows. "Hey."
"I text you. You didn't answer." Jess turns away, staring down at her lap. "I figured you were still.... upset. Upset with me."
"I'm not."
"Okay," is Jess' small response. She rises to her feet, pale knees red, hands smoothing down the boy shorts she's wearing. "Come in?"
"Yeah, okay."
Emily follows Jess into her apartment, taking in the slight disarray, rug torn up in the corner, white stuffing from throw pillows strewn about the floor. She considers asking but she's known Jess for a few years now to know that Jess has never questioned why Emily picks at her split ends, why she strips her bed down and rips into it before throwing everything away.
Jess plops down in an empty seat at her kitchen table, Emily taking the closest one to her. Jess sandwiches her knees between her chest and the table, hands coming to rest in between her thighs, eyes downcast and soft.
"I didn't think you'd leave. Or get upset. I wasn't trying to upset you, Em."
"I know."
"You always leave in a hurry when there's a hard conversation coming up. Why's that?"
Emily shrugs, hands folded in her lap.
"I'm not your parents, Em. I'll listen to what you have to say."
"I know." Emily responds automatically.
Jess sighs. "Do you? ..I meant it. When I said I was your girl. I'm here for you. Whatever it is. You can tell me."
Emily looks up at her, takes in the soft, delicate features, the way Jess' hair dries wavy, dark yellow under the setting sun. Grey eyes meet hers, understanding, warm.
"You know already."
Jess nods.
"It wasn't supposed to happen."
"I know."
Emily looks away. "I have to protect you."
"No you don't, Em."
But she does, Emily has to protect Jess because sometimes she's too soft, too friendly and pliant and it makes Emily's stomach twist, makes her sick.
"Yes, I do."
"Em-"
"Ashley tried to send you away," Emily interrupts turning to Jess. "She tried to get rid of you, Jessica. She was going to place your name in the database."
"I know." Jess sighs heavily.
"I had to protect you."
"And what are you protecting me from now?"
The Goats. The Doves. Emily had a list of potential people stored under her skin, her list of pests. Jess rolls her eyes, a faint smile on her lips as she regards Emily quietly.
"I'm not inept, Emily." Jess giggles. "I may not like hunting people or killing for sport but I can still kick your ass and Mike's. We all know Chris is the weakest link, no matter how many kagunes he has. I can take care of myself and I can take care of you."
Emily stares, a bit taken back.
"I know you ate a ghoul, Emily. I wish you hadn't but you did. You've smelt differently. I'm not stupid."
"Jess-"
"No," Jess interrupts, frowning. "Listen to me, Emily. You're a fucking idiot and I love you. We're, believe it or not, girlfriends! So I know things about you. We're best friends. I wish you and Chris didn't do what you did but it's done."
Did Jess know why she did? Why Chris did? Does she want to know? Emily studies her face, eyes trailing along the hardened will. Jess didn't want to know.
"I love you. Talk to me about things that are bothering you. That's how this works. That's how you date Jess."
"Please don't talk about yourself in third person."
Jess grins, "You like it."
Emily scoffs, "I liked it more if we were eight or seven or never?"
"You're such a bitch." Jess laughs, kicking out her legs. "Why do I like you?"
Emily shrugs, a small smile on her face and Jess rolls her eyes, lifting up from her seat. She reaches for Emily's hand, squeezing once then twice before dragging Emily out of her seat. Emily goes, can't find it in herself to bitch for the sake of bitching and Jess wraps her arms around Emily's torso when they're both standing.
"Do you have class tomorrow?" Jess' lips brush along the shell of her ear, causing Emily to shiver. Emily frowns, unsure, mind hurrying to supply an answer. She gets an affirmative, along with a reminder that she has yet to send in her paper on Molecular plant pathology.
"I do. Can I use your computer?"
Jess nods, arms still snug around Emily's torso. She doesn't move, Emily doesn't ask, enjoys the way her hair smells as it dries, cranberries and Everglades. Jess eases back, fingers lingering on Emily's sides, eyes heavy, dark like an oncoming storm. Her lips part, nose upturn and Emily can see the thought as it forms.
She leans in to kiss her.
Jess responds with a smile, lips stretching against Emily's as she grasps the front of her blouse, hands timid, hesitant, eyes big and grey and Emily nods, tracing the skin of Jess' stomach through her shirt.
"There's blood on your shirt." Jess comments idly, pushing the fabric up.
"It smells like garbage." Emily responds, pulling her shirt off the rest of the way. She tosses it absently behind her, pressing her forehead to Jess'.
"I wasn't going to say anything," Jess laughs, fingers running along the newly exposed skin. "Let me guess. Mike?"
Emily makes a noise of confirmation, grasping the back of Jess' thighs and lifting. Jess giggles in Emily's ear, palms hitting the kitchen table as Emily guides her back, one hand up Jess' shirt, mouths pressed together, slow and moving. Jess kisses a lot how she talks, with intention, meaning, budding warmth that Emily wants to drown in.
Jess sighs against her, fingers in Emily's hair, tongue brushing along the roof her mouth, the whisper of a pant between them. Emily can hear the pounding of Jess' heart, hears the thunder and swell beneath her skin and it rolls along her mind like an invitation.
"I cut out his stomach." Emily tells her, nipping along the curve of Jess' neck, eyes focused intently on the way her girlfriend's face relaxes, gaze distant. Jess snorts.
"That's so hot. I want to see."
"I'll take pictures next time." Emily promises, teeth sinking into Jess' collarbone, the salty, warm taste of her blood filling Emily's mouth.
"Please don't eat me. I'm not into vore." Jess laughs, lifting her hips when Emily pushes her shorts down.
"Can't believe you're kinkshaming me." Emily smiles, tugging at Jess' shirt until it tears, Jess' annoyed expression melting into one of anticipation as she watches Emily's mouth work down farther and farther.
Emily holds her gaze, sucking a dark bruise into Jess' collarbone, one hand sliding along the curve of her left breast, warm fingers pinching and rolling the nipple until it hardens. Jess' mouth is open, tongue worrying her bottom lip, eyes heavy and locked on the way Emily closes her lips over it.
Emily smirks, taking Jess' weak glare for what it is, her other hand sliding along the inside of Jess' thigh, feeling the slight tremble. She moves lower, trailing kisses along the curve Jess' soft stomach, inching lower and lower.
A loud pounding comes to Jess' apartment door, Jess cursing loudly when Emily startles, nails digging into Jess' thighs.
"Sorry." Emily says quickly, embarrassed.
Jess nostrils flare, a pout on her lips, nose twitching and Emily tries to focus on who could possibly be fucking knocking when she hears Chris' voice from the other side. It's low, painfully quiet like he's whispering and Emily can almost hear the panic if she wasn't busy listening to Jess' annoyed groan.
Emily leans up to kiss her, once, then twice, Jess melting into each one until her blood simmers in her body. Jess raspberries.
"God, I hate both of you." Jess whines, pushing Emily away. "You two honestly are siblings."
"Shut up, Jess." Emily reaches for her shirt, tugging it on as Jess wobbles to her bedroom, bitching lowly under her breath. Emily smiles to herself, righting her clothing as she wanders towards the front door.
Chris' panicked expression is on the other side, masked poorly under a shaky smile. Emily tenses up.
"What's wrong?"
"Did... I? I'm sorry." Chris hurries, adjusting his glasses and he looks frazzled, a bit lost and guilty.
"Is he going to come in?" Jess asks from behind her. She doesn't sound irritated, just worried as if fully sensing Chris' abnormal attitude. She appears beside Emily, face confused.
Chris' mouth opens then closes, jaw hardened and Emily straightens.
"Can I steal your girlfriend?" Chris asks meekly.
Jess blinks, then nods, eyes darting between them. "Of course. Are you okay?"
"O-Oh yeah. You know. Just... Need advice."
It's a lie, all three of them know it and if it was anyone besides Chris, Emily thinks Jess would call them out on it, pissy and angry, but Jess doesn't, forces a tense smile and kisses Emily's cheek before nodding.
Chris releases a sigh but the tension is still there, still sliding over his features like bitter wine. He takes a step back, then another, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Emily follows, glancing back at Jess' concerned face.
"Be safe." Jess says.
"We will." Emily answers.
Jess closes the door to her apartment, Emily follows Chris to the elevator, not used to this silence between them and how heavy it feels. Chris stands close to Emily as they wait for the elevator, distracted. The elevator doors open.
Emily steps in first, facing Chris, who is now looking at the floor. He stands there, in front of the elevator, Emily pressing the door open button until he steps inside. He looks up at her.
"Sorry I ruined your day." Chris says.
"You didn't." Emily states. She wants to ask what's wrong, doesn't like the twitching irritation boiling under her skin, the need to fix what's wrong.
Chris wets his lips.
"I need your help." He tells her.
"With what?"
Chris bites his lower lip, glancing away.
"With what, Chris?" Emily snaps.
"Josh."