Fic: I Never Said I'd Take This Lying Down - Emily/Naomi (mentions of Naomi/Sophia)
Title I Never Said I'd Take This Lying Down
Pairing Naomi/Emily, mentions of Naomi/Sophia
Rating NC-17
Words 8600
Summary Naomi doesn't want to show her, really, but she can't not do what Emily asks of her.
A/N For immortality as one of your birthday fics, which are now horribly late. Title from a song by Taking Back Sunday. This actually turned out a lot darker than I'd intended so I'll be interested to hear what you all think :)
It's like, lately, there's no reprieve. It's constant, this guilt she feels, and overwhelming, and she wishes to fuck that she could snap out of it but she just can't. Not with Emily there every day, reminding her of what she did and still not getting it.
But who could ever understand something like this, Naomi thinks as she brushes her teeth, scratching at her gums a little just so that she can feel something other. Just for a few minutes. They might bleed a little, and then maybe she'll be able to find something that's real instead of this ridiculous facade that she's been putting up the last few months. Something she can see and feel and then fix in a way she knows how to.
And it really has been fucking months since this whole thing happened and they're just not dealing with it, not even a little bit.
Or, okay, Emily's trying to deal with it, Naomi shakes her head and sort-of laughs to herself but it can't be a proper one because she's not had anything to laugh or smile about in ages. And what Emily's been doing most certainly is not funny.
Naomi's wanted to stop her, to get her to stay home, but she just can't, and it's one of those nights again where Naomi's ready for bed at 10pm and she's done her coursework (she's going to get fucking good grades if she carries on, but it hardly matters when the price to pay is this solitude) and all she can do is pretend to read and wait for Emily to slam the door too loudly and stumble up the stairs and fall into bed, somewhere not next to her.
It's a pattern Naomi doesn't know how to break. She just hopes that the next girl Emily kisses will be the one to snap her out of it.
****
She's actually dozing when she hears the front door go, but it's not slamming like usual, which Naomi thinks is actually more worrying in a fucked up sort of way.
Emily's anger, whilst horrible and painful, is something she understands. She knows the pain of loving someone so fucking much that you have to hurt them to get them to stop from hurting you. But if Emily's not slamming doors and calling her a useless cunt and she's not making a racket as she climbs the stairs then it's worrying.
Naomi waits, though. Waits to see if she's going to come flying through the door to find Naomi awake and sneer at her and ask what the fuck she's looking at and then get into bed fully clothed and face away from her.
When, after a few minutes of Naomi breathing so quietly she could barely hear it and sitting propped up on her elbow so that her fingers have started to go a bit numb around the book she's holding, she doesn't hear any more from Emily, she decides to go check it's actually her and they're not being robbed by a really quiet burglar.
(For a minute, Naomi hopes they are being robbed, partly because it'd be funny to see what they could actually find that was worth stealing, and partly because it means that Emily's still out getting fucked up and will still come home and hate her like she knows she deserves.)
When she gets to the bottom of the stairs she sees the living room light on and stands in the doorway for a moment.
And Emily's there, right on the edge, looking towards the empty space beside her.
Naomi shivers a little, because it really is too cold to be wandering around in just a t-shirt and tiny shorts (but she can't sleep completely naked, not anymore), and maybe her intake of breath alerts Emily to her presence.
Maybe Emily knew she was there all along.
"You know," Emily starts, her voice croaky, and it makes Naomi flinch to hear it not shouting or snapping. It just sounds sad - defeated. "I go out, most nights. And there are girls - like, loads of them. And they dance with me and I dance back and it's like... I must be a fucking shit lesbian because I'm not interested in any of them. Not even a little."
Emily doesn't look around, continues to stare at the couch and Naomi follows her gaze from the doorway to try and see what's there.
It looks like nothing, but Emily's staring so intently, like it's got an answer that she's looking for.
"Em, I..."
"This is where it happened, isn't it," Emily states more than asks, and it makes Naomi's chest clench because she doesn't know where this is going, but Emily's so calm that it's sort of scaring her a bit. But she has to follow where Emily's leading now, because she sure as shit can't be in charge of anything herself.
"Where what happened?" Naomi whispers, because she knows, really, but she can't talk about it unless Emily lets her know they're on the same page.
So Emily turns slowly, and Naomi can see she's been crying in the redness of her cheeks and the black streaks running from her eyes, like she's just so broken she doesn't even cry regular tears anymore.
She fixes Naomi with a look that's almost so emotionless that Naomi has to try hard not to take a step back and away, and then take a few more so she's back in bed to where this conversation isn't happening.
But it's too late for that. And Emily shakes her head sadly as she says, "This is where you fucked her, isn't it?"
Naomi flinches, then, even though she pretty much knew it was coming. Like, it was sort of okay to say it out loud herself but to hear it from Emily's lips just made it real again, and with that she's trying not to cry because she's just done so fucking much of that lately that she's not sure she's got the energy to do it again.
"Em, you know that... you already know," she whimpers, and it makes her voice get higher in pitch and it's a better indication that she's crumbling than tears could ever be.
"Of course I already fucking know, but I want you tell me again. Tell me this is where. Right here, where I'm sitting."
Naomi pauses for a moment, considers asking more questions, but she admits defeat and answers.
"Yes. That's where." Naomi hangs her head.
She thinks that's it, the end of the conversation. Perhaps the end of everything. So she's more than surprised when Emily says quietly, "Come here."
Naomi looks back up and Emily's facing forwards and she doesn't know what's going on, but Emily hasn't said anything like that in ages so she can't not go.
Slowly, she shuffles into the room and stands in front of Emily who looks up at her with sad eyes (always so sad these days) and holds out her hands.
They're shaking, just like Naomi's, and when Naomi reaches out for them they're cold.
"Jesus, Em, you're freezing. Where have you -"
"Kneel down," Emily says, pulling at her hands, and Naomi wants to know what's wrong (though she knows really) but complies and settles between Emily's legs as she opens them.
Naomi swallows hard because it really has been a fucking long time since she's been in this position and she can't help but glance down to where Emily's skirt is lifted up a little and notices a hole in her tights by her knee and wonders, really wonders, where Emily's been tonight. She can't have... she can't have done anything. She just wouldn't.
"Em, what have you - "
"I've been thinking..." Emily says, cutting her off, and Naomi gets that she's not allowed to ask her anything. It's Emily's right to ask the questions, to lead the way. That's if they're going anywhere at all. She reaches forward and pushes a bit of hair behind Naomi's ear and Naomi almost falls into it before she remembers that she doesn't deserve to do anything of the sort.
"I've been thinking about how to get past this," she continues after a moment and then takes her hand away and reaches into her bag, taking her eyes from Naomi as she rummages around in there before producing two hairbands. "And I... I think I know how, now."
Naomi wants to ask, but she just waits, watches as Emily leans forwards and parts her hair into two halves and then pulls at one side, straightening it out before forming a plait there.
"I've pictured it, in my head, countless times. So many fucking times," Emily says with a breath, and Naomi can smell the alcohol on her breath, cider perhaps, and it's not the sweet smell she usually associates with her. "And I think that, that I need..."
Emily finishes one plait and ties it together at the end before she starts on the next. Naomi waits for her to do it before she says anything, but she's shitting herself about where this is going now.
"What, Em...?" she asks quietly, and this is something she really isn't sure she wants to know the answer to. But she waits anyway. Right where Emily's put her, but Emily doesn't continue until the second plait's done and she holds the end of it, twisting the hair there around in her fingers.
"I think," she says before looking back into Naomi's eyes. "I need you to show me."
Naomi thinks she can't be serious because what she's asking for is just... How can she show her when she barely remembers herself? She's been trying so hard to forget, to put it behind them, but Emily wants to see, wants to know it all. And she just doesn't get how this can help her. How it can help either of them.
"Emily, I don't think that's a good - "
"You don't get to decide if it's a good idea or not, Naomi. In fact, you're pretty shit at making decisions, so I'm making this one for us."
Naomi blinks, opens her mouth once, twice, but nothing else comes out. She can hardly deny it (she's long past denying anything) but agreeing with Emily would be agreeing to this... this ridiculous suggestion, and Naomi's just not sure if it's something that she can do.
"So," Emily says, drawing Naomi out of her own thoughts. "I want you to get up here and show me how you fucked her, so I can stop imagining it and know for sure. I need to know."
She's deadly serious, Naomi knows it. But she's also drunk, and emotional and still angry, even if it is bubbling somewhere below the surface of her skin and behind her eyes, making them dark in the warm glow of the living room lamp.
"Emily," she starts, carefully. "I want you think about what you're asking me, okay? This isn't us - this isn't how we do this."
"Oh, so you're rejecting me then?" Emily snaps, and like that the anger's back, and Naomi flinches. "You're all right fucking random girls but you won't fuck me."
Naomi sighs and leans forward, trying to be brave for both of them because one of them has to be or they'll never get anywhere. One of them has to be the strong one, always.
"You know it isn't like that, Em. You know how much I want... How much I want to... But I can't. Not like... not like this."
Emily sighs and puts her hands to her face, taking a deep breath, and Naomi watches her.
"We can't go on like this, Naoms," Emily says, rubbing her hands down her face, pulling at her skin too tightly, and Naomi wants to make her stop, take her hands away and kiss them, kiss all over her fingers and her palms and her wrists. Feel the point where the blood flows, check that Emily's still alive - there and present and tangible.
And Emily's giving her the chance to do it, to make sure that she's still there, to remind them both that she's the one that made it, the one that survived, and all Naomi's doing is turning her down.
She closes her eyes and gets up from the floor after taking a deep breath of her own and settles on the couch a good few inches away from Emily who is now leaning back with her head tilted against the top of the sofa and Naomi licks her lips at the exposed skin of Emily's neck - she can't help it - and something starts to stir in her.
"I don't know if this will fix anything..." she says and watches as Emily rolls her head to the side.
"We've got to try because I don't know what else to do, to make it go away," Emily half-whispers and, God, it's like she's standing on the steps again, looking for Naomi, waiting for her to be there so Naomi can be what she needs.
Only before, Naomi had hidden. But she was visible now, to both of them, and she couldn't hide anymore.
"I don't want you to hate me for this, for saying yes to this," is all she can think of to say and Emily shifts around so they're facing each other and she almost smiles.
"Not sure I can more than I already do."
Naomi's not sure why that feels like a victory. Maybe it means that the only way is up, after all.
"Are you ready?" Naomi asks, and breathes in sharply through her nose when Emily's hand comes to rest on her own on the top of the sofa.
"Show me," she says in a voice lower than Naomi's ever heard before.
And, leaning forwards with her eyes fixed on Emily's lips, she does.
****
The hard part, of course, is trying to remember that she's not supposed to be making love to Emily because that's all she wants to do, really. But she knows how she treated Sophia, and it wasn't delicately, and it wasn't how she was with Emily, not even nearly.
When she and Emily fucked it was totally equal, like Naomi could fuck her from behind with two fingers, pulling Emily by the hips until she was bouncing back and forth and crying out to be fucked just that little bit harder and it would still be about both of them, completely. She'd know because afterwards, before Emily had even caught her breath, she'd pull Naomi towards her and kiss her like she hadn't kissed her in a week. And Naomi had fucked her as hard as she could but it was all for Emily, always.
When she fucked Sophia it was... different. Selfish. And she's not sure she wants Emily to see that side of her.
But the truth is all she has left now, so when Emily meets her halfway and, oh, they're finally kissing again, it takes all of Naomi's willpower to stop from whimpering into her mouth.
Naomi doesn't waste any time, she can't stop to savour Emily like she wants to, so she starts to push Emily down, still connected by the kiss.
"That quick, was it?" Emily asks between them and, fuck, she's going be questioned the whole way through. And she's going to have to answer every single time.
"Yeah," Naomi says, focussing on her actions, on the feel of Emily underneath her. "Move your legs around."
Emily lifts them off the floor and slides them underneath Naomi, her grip tight on the back of Naomi's neck.
"Like this?" she asks, smacking a kiss against Naomi's lips.
"Yeah... yeah, like that, I think," Naomi stumbles because, Christ, Emily is right there, where she hasn't been in forever, and Naomi wants to stop this all now, stop the game or whatever the fuck it is and just make love to Emily like she's Emily, not some fucked up version of something that was fucked up to begin with.
But she doesn't get the chance, isn't allowed to even think it, and Emily's pulling back and looking her in the eye.
"Tell me..." she starts, and then swallows. "Tell me how to kiss you."
It breaks Naomi, those words, because it sounds like Emily, it really does. But when she looks into her eyes she knows that it's not really. At least not the Emily she knows.
The Emily she loves, and has loved forever.
"Kiss me like... fuck's sake," Naomi closes her eyes and swallows because it's one thing to act this out but it's another to give direction. "Kiss me like you kind of can't believe it's happening. Not like at the lake where you knew that I wanted you but... but sort of like you had no idea. Like we'd never kissed before."
Emily nods and Naomi leans down into her, and she doesn't slide her leg between Emily's legs like she wants to because that's not what happened; Naomi's remembering the more she goes along - remembers where Sophia's hands where, her legs, her lips. And it's sort of like a memory from childhood, where you have a vague memory of it happening, always, but you don't really connect with it. Until one day you do, and something happens, and it's there in your mind - so real that you feel like you're reliving it.
But now, right now, Naomi is reliving it. Emily is Sophia. Emily is Sophia.
"Rub your hands up and down my back," Naomi says whilst nipping at Emily's lips, and she's been doing it, been kissing like she's too shocked to even know how to do it properly and it's made Naomi more forceful, like she was on that afternoon. She's there to take something. To punish Emily, sort of, for loving her so much.
Emily complies, smoothing her hands along Naomi's back over her t-shirt and Naomi can't help but shiver at the knowledge that Emily's hands are so close to her skin. But Emily's doing too good a job of being Sophia already that Naomi starts to feel a bit queasy, just like she did at the time.
So she follows the script, replays what's already been done, and gets annoyed that this girl who seemed to want her is being so fucking gentle, is lying there and just letting Naomi take, so she takes some more.
She kisses her way down to Emily's ear and shifts to the side so that she's lying next to her. There's not a lot of room to manoeuvre but Emily's smaller than Sophia so it helps as they squish together on the couch.
Emily's had to let her hands fall to her sides, one wrapped around Naomi and still stroking deceptively lazily but Naomi knows it can't be because neither of them are getting lost in this. They can't allow themselves to, won't.
As Naomi's lips press down hard onto Emily's skin, she reaches an earlobe and leans up to whisper into it as she rests a hand on Emily's stomach.
"It was like this," Naomi starts, and Emily inhales quickly through her nose when Naomi's fingers trail up to brush across a nipple. "It was like this, and I'll show you if you want me to. Just remember, she wasn't you so I'm going to have to pretend that you're not you for a bit. Do you understand?"
She sucks on Emily's neck and feels her nod.
"Yeah... yeah, okay," Emily says quietly in that croaky voice that Naomi hasn't heard in so long but it means that she's actually fucking getting turned on by this and, really, Naomi was fully expecting to get turned on by touching Emily, but not by this charade that they were perpetuating.
It's almost better in a way (of course it is) than it was the first time around because now she has Emily at her mercy, and she shouldn't like that she's starting to feel things but she can't help it, not when she's almost angrily grabbing at Emily's breast and tweaking her nipple not at all gently between her thumb and forefinger.
She wants to buck her hips, push herself onto Emily's leg, but she can't. She didn't have that urge with Sophia (even though afterwards she was so wet she got herself off so quickly that when she came she cried with her face buried in a cushion that smelled of someone it shouldn't) so she couldn't with Emily now.
But Emily's starting to wriggle a little, and Naomi knows that part of her must be enjoying this a little more than she'd meant to.
"God," Emily breathes as Naomi slips her hand up Emily's t-shirt and pushes her bra up without undoing it. "You were a bit fucking rough, weren't you?"
"Yeah," Naomi murmurs, her lips still fastened to the side of Emily's neck. "Yeah, I had to be."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want her to want me. I wanted her to need me, like this, but I didn't want her to want me."
Emily turns her head and Naomi's fingers slow, and it's like they've come to an impasse of sorts. She hadn't know that, really, until she said it. And now she's wondering if this was Emily's plan all along - to get Naomi to understand why she did it, to get Naomi to relive it so that she could understand why they were breaking, why they were broken before this even happened.
She doesn't mean for them to but her eyes start to well up and she doesn't want to fucking cry but she's been letting herself feel everything lately and now, now she's lying here pretending that this isn't Emily and pretending that what she's doing right now isn't all she's wanted for the last five months.
Except it's not this. Not exactly.
But she's thinking too much and Emily's noticed and is tilting Naomi's head back up with two fingers under her chin.
Her eyes are right there, and they're so dark that Naomi wonders if there's any light getting to them at all. But when she speaks she sounds like Emily and Naomi almost shatters beside her.
"Naomi, I need you. Now. So," she says, placing her hand over Naomi's and squeezing tight so that there are four fingers around her nipple instead of two. "What happens next?"
****
Naomi lets it all go, then - these feelings that she's been choking on, and lets herself be that girl who took an almost stranger home and fucked her behind her girlfriend's back.
She remembers the sickness but also the excitement, and it floods back to her in waves, the way Sophia's chest was bare and bruised from her kisses because it's all in front of her again, but this time she's shaped like Emily and is making little Emily noises.
(Naomi considers for a moment being even more selfish than she was at the time and taking more from Emily than she took from Sophia by getting Emily to finger her at the same time but she can't quite bring herself to do it. She's told enough lies already. And, besides, she doesn't deserve to get off tonight. Not like this.)
Naomi's already moved Emily's hands to her hair where she's pulling on it wherever she can and making the plaits come loose, and Naomi recalls her appearance from when Sophia left - her hair a mess and her clothing rumpled and her lips red, and how it reminded her of that day that Emily left with no shoes and a fake bruise to bear.
Only this time, the bruises are real, and Naomi's being too rough with her mouth, too aggressive with her teeth as she bites down on one of Emily's nipples while she twists the other with her fingers.
"Oh, fuck, Naoms," Emily grunts, and Naomi wonders if she even knows that she let slip that term of endearment and tries not to smile because she didn't, not once, with Sophia. Not when Naomi's hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh and her breathing was getting heavier, anyway.
Sophia hadn't been wearing a skirt like Emily is, but it doesn't matter, and it makes it easier anyway to reach up and pull Emily's tights down (and Naomi knows that whatever Emily had been up to earlier in the evening no one had been here) and off over her feet.
The angle is better this way, and Naomi knows that she won't hurt her knuckle rubbing against the zipper of Sophia's shorts, so when she reaches up under Emily's skirt and trails one finger up the length of Emily's cunt over her knickers Naomi feels herself get even wetter.
"Jesus," Emily groans as Naomi kisses her way back up her neck. "Right-handed, then?"
"Well yeah," Naomi says, her voice muffled and her finger rubbing a circle over Emily's clit. "Would have been a bit awkward to swap positions."
"Why not just go upstairs? Why not just - "
"Em," Naomi stops her, suddenly very alert and almost panicked. She watches Emily gulp as she rolls her head to the side again but this time her eyes don't open. "Emily - look at me."
Naomi's hand doesn't stop moving below Emily's skirt because she knows that if it does she'll have to take it away and then she won't be able to help from running her fingers through Emily's hair and across her cheek and over her eyebrows and... she didn't do it to Sophia so it's not happening now.
Slowly, though, Emily opens her eyes and Naomi considers jacking this all in anyway, but Emily's still jerking her hips in time with Naomi's fingers so she can only finish what she started.
"Emily," she tries again. "There was no way I would do that. That's our room - nobody's allowed in there, okay?"
Emily nods and shakes her head all at once and Naomi falls a little bit more in love with her again just for understanding that one thing.
And now she just wants it to be over, just like she did back then, so she surges forwards and smothers Emily in a kiss as her fingers move faster.
Emily gasps into it and it allows Naomi to slide her tongue into her mouth and Naomi wonders if she's getting it now, that this isn't who they're supposed to be. But she needs for it to be done, so she slips her hand underneath the elastic of Emily's knickers and pushes two fingers down into the wetness there.
Naomi can't help it; she moans into Emily's mouth (she thinks she did with Sophia anyway) and Emily kisses her back harder.
"Not so hard, she didn't... she wanted to keep it nice, but I wouldn't let her."
"God," Emily says between kisses. "You were a fucking cunt to her, weren't you?"
"Yes," Naomi hisses, because she was. Because Sophia never gave anything back and just let herself be fucked and then got told to leave. Because Naomi took what she wanted and then threw Sophia away. And now Emily's got it, what this was meant to be, and for some reason she's not pushing her away. She's still right there, breathing heavily into each kiss, her fingernails digging into Naomi's shoulders.
"And... and you kept your clothes on?"
"Yes, the whole time..."
"Fuck," and even though Naomi's picked up the pace, Emily's still coherent to ask things, like they're all she's thought about since Naomi watched her put her heart in that box along with Sophia's and throw it off that roof. "Fuck... and was she... was she as wet as me?"
And Naomi remembers, of course she remembers that, and she whispers against Emily's lips, her voice high and uncontrolled now:
"Yes, fuck, Em... she was so fucking wet, I can't..."
"Go inside me," Emily says, and she puts her hand where Sophia did, right on Naomi's forearm, and tries to move it down.
But Naomi doesn't budge. She's following the rules and she knows that if she breaks this one then a fuckload more will be broken in quick succession.
"No, I can't," she says, never taking her lips away from Emily's.
"What? Why?" Emily breathes, anger laced in her voice as she pulls away.
"Because that's not what happened Em. I need to show you how it happened, now that we've started. Or you'll never be able to understand."
They both still for a moment, Emily's grip loosening around Naomi's arm, and their eyes searching each other's, Naomi's willing Emily to just accept that this is the way things have to be.
It seems like an eternity before Emily nods and whispers, "Okay," and Naomi starts moving her fingers again.
And it's sort of ridiculous, that she's not giving Emily what she wants seeing as they've gone this far already. But there are conditions to this, ones that Naomi knows she can't break if she ever wants to get them back to where they should be.
Not back to how it was before but better. Somewhere better and further on than they've ever been.
So she pushes against Emily, closes her eyes and pictures Sophia (an image which is blurry at best) and remembers the way her body moved underneath Naomi's, how she so desperately wanted more than Naomi had to offer, and she bites Emily's neck and Emily jumps at the contact.
"Did she like that, when you did that to her?" she murmurs, digging her nails deeper into Naomi's skin and it just makes Naomi push down harder.
"No, no I don't think so. But I couldn't help it... I didn't... she wasn't you and I just..."
"Just show me what happens next."
Naomi forces herself to open her eyes, like she did that night, when she realised that the girl underneath her, this girl who was no one to her, really, was going to unravel underneath her and she just had to see it.
She wanted someone else to come undone, for a change. For her to be caught up in something she didn't understand but knew that she wanted and it made Naomi go a little faster back then and it does now, watching the way that Emily's breasts are so inelegantly exposed underneath her bra and are moving around with every jerk of her hips.
Emily opens her mouth in a wordless expression of want, of that feeling of almost, and it's still nothing like Sophia so Naomi brings them back to that place.
"Close your mouth. She had her mouth closed, like if she said anything then it would all stop. Like I'd remember who she was and then it wouldn't be happening any more."
Emily complies, purses her lips together, rocks her hips into Naomi's hand like she can't help but move them. She's in motion where Sophia was still, but Naomi can't stop that, can't stop from watching as Emily lets herself go for the first time in months, and still she keeps her mouth closed.
And Naomi remembers it then, that moment where it all came crashing down, and she puts her lips close to Emily's ear in whispers into it, shaking as she speaks.
"Come for me," Naomi says, and then she feels all her muscles tense. "Come for me now, Sophia."
Emily makes a low, guttural sound, opens her mouth wide to let it out as Naomi's fingers slide around her cunt, pushing and pulling at her clit, and it's still not gentle and it still can't be and Emily's tilted her head back as her body moves in defined, jagged pulses.
"You fucking..." Emily starts, and then stops and Naomi's impressed that she's still remembering the game that isn't even as she's coming.
Naomi watches then, sees the control she had, the one she didn't realise she didn't even fucking want until it was too late, and takes in all of Emily as she breaks, just as Sophia did.
Just as Naomi did, all by herself, once she was alone again.
When Emily reaches the peak of it all she cries out and Naomi can only do her best to keep her fingers moving, to bring Emily back down to a place where it's quieter, calmer than before.
They're both breathing heavily and Naomi's still swirling her fingers slowly around Emily's clit as she watches Emily's tongue dart out and lick her lips.
It's usually the time that Naomi would go to her, kiss her as she comes down, kiss her for all that belongs to them and seal it between them. But she knows that she can't right now, because she didn't kiss Sophia. Not after.
"Fuck," Emily breathes out shakily, pulling her hand from Naomi's arm and running it through her hair. She turns her face away and Naomi wonders if this is it - if this is the end, truly.
It's what makes her leave her hand in Emily's knickers, makes her twitch her fingers again, which makes Emily gasp as she snaps her head around to where Naomi's watching, biting her lip and waiting to be told to leave.
She closes her eyes, then, to help take the blow, but it never comes and, suddenly, she's got lips pressed against her own and her hand is being removed from between Emily's legs and held above her head.
"Em, what...?" she manages to ask between kisses as Emily's rolling on top of her and reaching for her other hand.
She holds them both above Naomi's head, awkwardly pressing into the arm of the couch and it forces her chest up into Emily's.
"Shut up," Emily says, plastering kisses down her neck. "Just shut up and let me fucking... Just let me..."
So Naomi does because, really, she'd take anything right now and she's so fucking wet that she can barely concentrate on anything else.
But then Emily's straddling her and lifting her t-shirt off over her head and undoing her bra and flinging it away, and Naomi can't help but stare because Emily is so beautiful and she wants to press her lips against the skin between her breasts and press her cheek up against them and breathe Emily in.
"I bet this is what she wanted, really," Emily says from somewhere above her. "To have you look at her, like this. But you didn't did you? You didn't want to see?"
Naomi bites down on her lip and shakes her head, wonders where all of this is going, really. But her honesty seems to be working all over the place tonight because Emily's pushing her t-shirt up over her stomach and breasts and then, as she's pulling it over Naomi's head Naomi finds herself inches away from Emily's breasts and it wouldn't take much to lean upwards and press a light kiss to one of her nipples but Emily's too quick. The top is swiftly off and then they're both there, shirtless and so close together.
Emily presses her hands down on Naomi's wrists again, holding her in place (like she was brave enough to move anyway) and hovering above Naomi's face.
"This is how it feels, you know. To be so close to something you want, Naoms. Do you get that?"
And Naomi's worried now because it seems like she's enabled Emily - like something has been lying dormant inside her and it's all about to come out. But she has to play along, now, least of all because Emily's sliding a knee up between her legs and providing Naomi with a much needed pressure against her cunt.
When she doesn't answer, Emily looks down at her, curtained by red hair (red for anger, Naomi thinks, red for revenge...) and says, "Do you get it?" and punctuates it with a hard nudge against her pussy that isn't completely pleasant.
"Fuck," Naomi hisses. "Yes, yes I know, but Ems..."
"Don't," Emily says, her other hand covering Naomi's mouth, which means there's now a lot of pressure on her wrists as they hold all of Emily's weight and it's really not that nice. Not even with Emily leaving light kisses along her jaw, totally contrasting with the way she's not being gentle anywhere else.
She's rocking her knee against Naomi's cunt, and it's not enough, not even nearly, but it's better than nothing.
And it's better still when Emily moves her hand away from Naomi's mouth so she can breathe properly but rests it on Naomi's throat, her thumb rubbing at the underside of Naomi's chin.
Emily slides herself down Naomi's body and finally, finally puts some proper pressure on her cunt as Emily's thigh pushes against her.
She starts a rhythm that is far too slow, it's all just not enough, but Naomi doesn't feel like she can ask for anything, not when Emily's already giving her more than she was expecting.
"So," Emily says, and Naomi notes the growl in her voice, the way it shakes into her ear. "Do you think that she would have wanted to do this to you? To feel you underneath her like this?"
Naomi can only manage a small, "Oh," but it's not want Emily wants, clearly, and she lets Naomi know by squeezing her throat ever so slightly and her eyes go wide as she looks into Emily's.
"Yes, yes she would have... she wanted to but I wouldn't let her. I couldn't..."
"So you felt... frustrated." Emily stills her leg, stops moving all together, and all Naomi hear is the sound of her own ragged breaths hitting the side of Emily's face.
"Yes," Naomi manages, and she's never felt so small, so... useless. And she knows that Emily has taken the power back.
She wonders, really, if Emily's had the power all along.
Of course she has.
****
It's all sort of horrible from then on, Emily asking questions Naomi doesn't want to answer as she moves down Naomi's body, nipping at her chest.
"Did she want to touch your breasts?" Emily says as she covers one of them with a small hand, massaging it gently.
And Naomi answers yes; answers yes to all the questions of, "Would she have wanted to suck your nipple?' and "Did she want to finger your clit, like this?" and "Would she have wanted to go inside you?"
But Emily stops there, stops before sliding her fingers inside, and Naomi is just breaking at the contact, and all her brain can think is that Emily is touching her again, even though it's not right.
Emily's fingers are resting on the entrance to her cunt, completely still, and it's taking Naomi every inch of willpower not to move, not to push herself down onto them, and Emily is just staring at her own fingers and where they're heading like they've never seen each other like this before. Like they've never been here before.
And Naomi almost wants it to stop, but there's a chance that this could be helping Emily, and helping them both, so she has to let her carry on.
"You know," Emily says, one hand resting on Naomi's stomach, the fingers of the other gently stroking but never pushing. "Before we had sex, before I knew what sex really was, I used to think about this. About you. Having you all to myself and making love to you, so, so slowly. And then, then it happened..."
Naomi swallows as Emily rakes her nails down her stomach and pressing two fingertips to Naomi's clit and keeping them there, and Naomi can't help but buck into her then.
"No," Emily says firmly, her eyes snapping back up to Naomi's face. "No, you don't move."
She doesn't really know how much longer she can stay still for, really, but Naomi nods anyway and waits for Emily to continue.
"And it was incredible. Everything about you - you were incredible. And you let me... you let me have you. And then you ran away."
"Em, I'm sorry, I - "
"And I remember thinking, as you left, that I was left with the taste of you in my mouth. I could smell you everywhere." Emily shakes her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, hiding her face, as she starts moving the fingers on Naomi's clit ridiculously slowly.
Naomi arches her back a little before remembering and stopping, squeezing her eyes shut and biting down on her lip just to focus on the pain of it rather than on everything that Emily's doing to her and everything that she's not.
"But, at least I got that. I had something to take away with me - that little piece of you that you'd given. But... but this girl, this girl Sophia she had nothing. You gave her nothing, Naomi, and you took everything, from both of us."
She has to look back then, to see the first tear fall from Emily and land close to where her fingers are still moving.
"Emily, I..." Naomi trails off because she just has no idea anymore, no idea at all, what she's supposed to make of this and she feels like she's even stopped getting wet now because she's a bit freaked out.
She should never have said yes to this, and she knows it. She can't see how this is going to help now, and wonders if Emily's taken something tonight to make her act this way, to be acting out, punishing her like this for being so fucking selfish.
And she sort of gets where Emily's coming from - that Sophia never got the chance to be a part of this like she had wanted to be. How she never got to break Naomi, not once.
So maybe that's it - Emily wants to break her now, into tiny pieces, so they can both be broken together.
Naomi exhales shakily and sits up, placing a nervous hand over Emily's and stopping her fingers from moving.
"Em, look at me now. Em?"
And when Emily looks up her lip is quivering and her eyes are shiny with uncried tears. But she does look, and it only takes a second for her to see Naomi, to actually see her, before she crumbles.
Naomi puts a palm to Emily's cheek and she nuzzles into it.
"Em, you have to understand - you don't have to do this, you know? I know, I know it all, what I did. To you and to me and to her. I know, okay?"
"But how can you, Naomi? How can you when she's..."
Emily doesn't need to finish and tries to turn her head away but Naomi holds her in place, forces her to look into her eyes, just one more time, to try and get this through.
"I took it, okay? I took whatever she'd give and she let me. And I couldn't let her touch me because she wasn't you, and I just... I just couldn't."
Emily sniffs against Naomi's palm and closes her eyes.
"So let me be her, now. Let me take from you what you wouldn't give to her. And then maybe we can... we can move on from this. Okay?"
Her eyes open slowly, like it hurts her to do it, and Naomi's there waiting with a shaky nod.
"Okay. Okay, Em. Take what you want."
****
The first thing she takes is a kiss, slow and gentle and not at all the way Naomi would have kissed Sophia, but now she gets that this is how Sophia would have wanted to kiss her so she runs with it.
She lets Emily push her down onto the couch and maps Naomi's body so carefully that Naomi's sure Emily will have an imprint of it in her mind forever.
But, even though it feels amazing, it's the worst thing ever because Emily isn't doing this for her, she's doing it for Sophia. For this girl that died, this girl that killed herself because she couldn't have what Emily had. And she wants Naomi to suffer for it, for giving Sophia so little and taking more from Emily in the process.
If that's the way it has to be, though, then that's it. So Naomi lets Emily slip a hand back between them and finds Naomi's clit with ease, working her fingers around it, dipping down into the wetness that's further down and coating her fingers with it so they slide around effortlessly.
(Naomi doesn't stop to tell Emily that she doubts Sophia would have been so skilful - that she wouldn't have known how to touch Naomi in order to make her breath hitch and her pulse quicken. There's no point because Emily is moving so slowly that if Naomi makes this thing take any more time she'll have died from frustration.
And she doesn't think that Emily could even pretend to be bad at this. Not even for a second.)
She wants so desperately to tell Emily that she loves her, that she's always loved her, since before she even knew what love was, but know isn't the time.
She wonders when it will be time, if she'll ever get the chance again.
****
When Emily finally puts some pressure on her clit, finally moves a little faster and kisses Naomi so deeply she's not sure she'll remember how to breathe again afterwards, Naomi gives in.
She lets Emily move against her like it's them (or very almost them) and forgets that she's not supposed to be enjoying this and moans into Emily's mouth.
Emily smiles, Naomi can feel it, as she nips at her bottom lip, and shifts to the side so that she has a better angle as she pushes two fingers inside Naomi, slowly but in completely straight away, hard and deep, and Naomi pushes down onto them.
It's never the same, when she touches herself - she can't get her fingers to move in the same way and remembers every time how she's squandered the chance to have Emily do this to her, for her. So now, now that Emily's leaning over her and watching intently as Naomi's body jerks with every thrust, she revels in it.
There's nothing fast about it but Emily's so deep inside her that Naomi wonders if she'll ever be closer to her.
Her breathing is sharp and shallow now, and they're looking at each other, looking and searching for a way for this to make sense. And Emily nods, once, and Naomi pushes her own hand between them and finds her clit and thank fuck because she's able to stroke it neatly between her fingers as Emily picks up the pace and fucks her like Naomi feels like she deserves to be fucked - hard and fast and a bit roughly.
"Yes," she gasps against Emily's mouth, who's kissing her more than she was before. "Yes, yes, oh fucking Christ."
"Yeah?" Emily asks, and Naomi lifts her leg and thumps her hips forward, bringing them down onto Emily's fingers, and she can feel that Emily's got wet again by the way she's sliding up and down on her thigh.
She brings her other arm around Emily's waist tightly and pushes her down onto her thigh, kneading her fingers into Emily's skin.
Emily groans, deeply, right from the throat, and kisses her way from Naomi's mouth around to her shoulder and buries her head there.
It gives Naomi the chance to see Emily's arm moving quickly between their bodies and her own moving frantically, watching her knuckles as they bend and flex between her legs.
And it's nothing like usual, but it's also nothing like Sophia now, because they want each other and Naomi knows it, that this isn't a random fuck, it's never been random between them, and she can tell as Emily whimpers into her neck and she feels her own muscles tense around Emily's fingers.
"Oh... Oh Jesus, Em..." she manages just before words become impossible and she resorts to a series of high-pitched cries that flow from her mouth like the breath from her lungs, like how the world gives her air, like Emily gives her life and it's all she can do to stay alive.
To breathe her in. To whimper beneath her and show her that she broke her long, long ago and hope that Emily understands that she really cannot survive without her.
Emily thrusts a bit harder, pushes herself a bit harder down onto Naomi's thigh, and Naomi feels it then, and she comes in waves around Emily's fingers, furthered by her own uncoordinated flicks against her clit and she rides it out - they ride it out together - and Naomi's still coming down as Emily moves against her thigh and comes only moments after, arching her neck back and crying out.
Naomi can only watch, watch as the girl she loves squeezes her eyes together and grips hold of her cunt where her fingers are still inside, and grinds down on her thigh as she comes.
In a moment of bravery, Naomi shifts up and brings Emily down into a kiss that she can only hope conveys what she means. It's so full of desperation that it's all she's got left to offer right now. And when Emily kisses back she thinks it means they've made progress.
"Emily," Naomi whispers against her lips. "Emily, I - "
"Don't," Emily says pulling away, her arms still slung over Naomi's shoulders and their foreheads resting together. "Don't, I can't hear it right now."
Naomi nods, accepts a kiss as Emily leans down, and, taking one last deep breath, she climbs off her, gathering her clothes.
She watches, Naomi does, and she's really not sure how many times her heart can break before it's irreparable, but she sure as fuck hopes it's at least one more when Emily looks back over her shoulder and says, sadly:
"I'm going to sleep in the spare room tonight. Give me five minutes to use the bathroom."
Naomi nods and curls into herself, forcing herself to look away from Emily as she feels the tears coming a-fucking-gain.
She's not sure, but she thinks that Emily stands there for a moment, like there's something else she wants to say but, by the time Naomi works up the balls to look, she's gone and padding slowly up the stairs.
It can't have fixed anything, what they just did. But really, could it have made anything any worse?
Naomi isn't sure, she can't tell right now, but she waits, silently crying into the couch, into that fucking couch, with her fists tightly curled around a cushion, and thinks that surely, surely, one of them will do something soon to snap them out of this.
Whatever it was, though, it wasn't this.
Naomi waits for the toilet to flush and the door to click shut (she wonders if Emily stops to look at the photo of them that's there, a photo from Emily's birthday where they were both just ridiculous and perfect and them) before she moves on.
The ache is nothing. It doesn't matter. Nothing does while Emily is there and not there all at once.
****
Naomi climbs into the bed that she knows she shouldn't be in alone but can't figure out how to share again and whispers, "I'm sorry," to the darkness.
To Emily, to Sophia, to all of them.
She sleeps, but not soundly. She's not sure she ever will again.
Pairing Naomi/Emily, mentions of Naomi/Sophia
Rating NC-17
Words 8600
Summary Naomi doesn't want to show her, really, but she can't not do what Emily asks of her.
A/N For immortality as one of your birthday fics, which are now horribly late. Title from a song by Taking Back Sunday. This actually turned out a lot darker than I'd intended so I'll be interested to hear what you all think :)
It's like, lately, there's no reprieve. It's constant, this guilt she feels, and overwhelming, and she wishes to fuck that she could snap out of it but she just can't. Not with Emily there every day, reminding her of what she did and still not getting it.
But who could ever understand something like this, Naomi thinks as she brushes her teeth, scratching at her gums a little just so that she can feel something other. Just for a few minutes. They might bleed a little, and then maybe she'll be able to find something that's real instead of this ridiculous facade that she's been putting up the last few months. Something she can see and feel and then fix in a way she knows how to.
And it really has been fucking months since this whole thing happened and they're just not dealing with it, not even a little bit.
Or, okay, Emily's trying to deal with it, Naomi shakes her head and sort-of laughs to herself but it can't be a proper one because she's not had anything to laugh or smile about in ages. And what Emily's been doing most certainly is not funny.
Naomi's wanted to stop her, to get her to stay home, but she just can't, and it's one of those nights again where Naomi's ready for bed at 10pm and she's done her coursework (she's going to get fucking good grades if she carries on, but it hardly matters when the price to pay is this solitude) and all she can do is pretend to read and wait for Emily to slam the door too loudly and stumble up the stairs and fall into bed, somewhere not next to her.
It's a pattern Naomi doesn't know how to break. She just hopes that the next girl Emily kisses will be the one to snap her out of it.
****
She's actually dozing when she hears the front door go, but it's not slamming like usual, which Naomi thinks is actually more worrying in a fucked up sort of way.
Emily's anger, whilst horrible and painful, is something she understands. She knows the pain of loving someone so fucking much that you have to hurt them to get them to stop from hurting you. But if Emily's not slamming doors and calling her a useless cunt and she's not making a racket as she climbs the stairs then it's worrying.
Naomi waits, though. Waits to see if she's going to come flying through the door to find Naomi awake and sneer at her and ask what the fuck she's looking at and then get into bed fully clothed and face away from her.
When, after a few minutes of Naomi breathing so quietly she could barely hear it and sitting propped up on her elbow so that her fingers have started to go a bit numb around the book she's holding, she doesn't hear any more from Emily, she decides to go check it's actually her and they're not being robbed by a really quiet burglar.
(For a minute, Naomi hopes they are being robbed, partly because it'd be funny to see what they could actually find that was worth stealing, and partly because it means that Emily's still out getting fucked up and will still come home and hate her like she knows she deserves.)
When she gets to the bottom of the stairs she sees the living room light on and stands in the doorway for a moment.
And Emily's there, right on the edge, looking towards the empty space beside her.
Naomi shivers a little, because it really is too cold to be wandering around in just a t-shirt and tiny shorts (but she can't sleep completely naked, not anymore), and maybe her intake of breath alerts Emily to her presence.
Maybe Emily knew she was there all along.
"You know," Emily starts, her voice croaky, and it makes Naomi flinch to hear it not shouting or snapping. It just sounds sad - defeated. "I go out, most nights. And there are girls - like, loads of them. And they dance with me and I dance back and it's like... I must be a fucking shit lesbian because I'm not interested in any of them. Not even a little."
Emily doesn't look around, continues to stare at the couch and Naomi follows her gaze from the doorway to try and see what's there.
It looks like nothing, but Emily's staring so intently, like it's got an answer that she's looking for.
"Em, I..."
"This is where it happened, isn't it," Emily states more than asks, and it makes Naomi's chest clench because she doesn't know where this is going, but Emily's so calm that it's sort of scaring her a bit. But she has to follow where Emily's leading now, because she sure as shit can't be in charge of anything herself.
"Where what happened?" Naomi whispers, because she knows, really, but she can't talk about it unless Emily lets her know they're on the same page.
So Emily turns slowly, and Naomi can see she's been crying in the redness of her cheeks and the black streaks running from her eyes, like she's just so broken she doesn't even cry regular tears anymore.
She fixes Naomi with a look that's almost so emotionless that Naomi has to try hard not to take a step back and away, and then take a few more so she's back in bed to where this conversation isn't happening.
But it's too late for that. And Emily shakes her head sadly as she says, "This is where you fucked her, isn't it?"
Naomi flinches, then, even though she pretty much knew it was coming. Like, it was sort of okay to say it out loud herself but to hear it from Emily's lips just made it real again, and with that she's trying not to cry because she's just done so fucking much of that lately that she's not sure she's got the energy to do it again.
"Em, you know that... you already know," she whimpers, and it makes her voice get higher in pitch and it's a better indication that she's crumbling than tears could ever be.
"Of course I already fucking know, but I want you tell me again. Tell me this is where. Right here, where I'm sitting."
Naomi pauses for a moment, considers asking more questions, but she admits defeat and answers.
"Yes. That's where." Naomi hangs her head.
She thinks that's it, the end of the conversation. Perhaps the end of everything. So she's more than surprised when Emily says quietly, "Come here."
Naomi looks back up and Emily's facing forwards and she doesn't know what's going on, but Emily hasn't said anything like that in ages so she can't not go.
Slowly, she shuffles into the room and stands in front of Emily who looks up at her with sad eyes (always so sad these days) and holds out her hands.
They're shaking, just like Naomi's, and when Naomi reaches out for them they're cold.
"Jesus, Em, you're freezing. Where have you -"
"Kneel down," Emily says, pulling at her hands, and Naomi wants to know what's wrong (though she knows really) but complies and settles between Emily's legs as she opens them.
Naomi swallows hard because it really has been a fucking long time since she's been in this position and she can't help but glance down to where Emily's skirt is lifted up a little and notices a hole in her tights by her knee and wonders, really wonders, where Emily's been tonight. She can't have... she can't have done anything. She just wouldn't.
"Em, what have you - "
"I've been thinking..." Emily says, cutting her off, and Naomi gets that she's not allowed to ask her anything. It's Emily's right to ask the questions, to lead the way. That's if they're going anywhere at all. She reaches forward and pushes a bit of hair behind Naomi's ear and Naomi almost falls into it before she remembers that she doesn't deserve to do anything of the sort.
"I've been thinking about how to get past this," she continues after a moment and then takes her hand away and reaches into her bag, taking her eyes from Naomi as she rummages around in there before producing two hairbands. "And I... I think I know how, now."
Naomi wants to ask, but she just waits, watches as Emily leans forwards and parts her hair into two halves and then pulls at one side, straightening it out before forming a plait there.
"I've pictured it, in my head, countless times. So many fucking times," Emily says with a breath, and Naomi can smell the alcohol on her breath, cider perhaps, and it's not the sweet smell she usually associates with her. "And I think that, that I need..."
Emily finishes one plait and ties it together at the end before she starts on the next. Naomi waits for her to do it before she says anything, but she's shitting herself about where this is going now.
"What, Em...?" she asks quietly, and this is something she really isn't sure she wants to know the answer to. But she waits anyway. Right where Emily's put her, but Emily doesn't continue until the second plait's done and she holds the end of it, twisting the hair there around in her fingers.
"I think," she says before looking back into Naomi's eyes. "I need you to show me."
Naomi thinks she can't be serious because what she's asking for is just... How can she show her when she barely remembers herself? She's been trying so hard to forget, to put it behind them, but Emily wants to see, wants to know it all. And she just doesn't get how this can help her. How it can help either of them.
"Emily, I don't think that's a good - "
"You don't get to decide if it's a good idea or not, Naomi. In fact, you're pretty shit at making decisions, so I'm making this one for us."
Naomi blinks, opens her mouth once, twice, but nothing else comes out. She can hardly deny it (she's long past denying anything) but agreeing with Emily would be agreeing to this... this ridiculous suggestion, and Naomi's just not sure if it's something that she can do.
"So," Emily says, drawing Naomi out of her own thoughts. "I want you to get up here and show me how you fucked her, so I can stop imagining it and know for sure. I need to know."
She's deadly serious, Naomi knows it. But she's also drunk, and emotional and still angry, even if it is bubbling somewhere below the surface of her skin and behind her eyes, making them dark in the warm glow of the living room lamp.
"Emily," she starts, carefully. "I want you think about what you're asking me, okay? This isn't us - this isn't how we do this."
"Oh, so you're rejecting me then?" Emily snaps, and like that the anger's back, and Naomi flinches. "You're all right fucking random girls but you won't fuck me."
Naomi sighs and leans forward, trying to be brave for both of them because one of them has to be or they'll never get anywhere. One of them has to be the strong one, always.
"You know it isn't like that, Em. You know how much I want... How much I want to... But I can't. Not like... not like this."
Emily sighs and puts her hands to her face, taking a deep breath, and Naomi watches her.
"We can't go on like this, Naoms," Emily says, rubbing her hands down her face, pulling at her skin too tightly, and Naomi wants to make her stop, take her hands away and kiss them, kiss all over her fingers and her palms and her wrists. Feel the point where the blood flows, check that Emily's still alive - there and present and tangible.
And Emily's giving her the chance to do it, to make sure that she's still there, to remind them both that she's the one that made it, the one that survived, and all Naomi's doing is turning her down.
She closes her eyes and gets up from the floor after taking a deep breath of her own and settles on the couch a good few inches away from Emily who is now leaning back with her head tilted against the top of the sofa and Naomi licks her lips at the exposed skin of Emily's neck - she can't help it - and something starts to stir in her.
"I don't know if this will fix anything..." she says and watches as Emily rolls her head to the side.
"We've got to try because I don't know what else to do, to make it go away," Emily half-whispers and, God, it's like she's standing on the steps again, looking for Naomi, waiting for her to be there so Naomi can be what she needs.
Only before, Naomi had hidden. But she was visible now, to both of them, and she couldn't hide anymore.
"I don't want you to hate me for this, for saying yes to this," is all she can think of to say and Emily shifts around so they're facing each other and she almost smiles.
"Not sure I can more than I already do."
Naomi's not sure why that feels like a victory. Maybe it means that the only way is up, after all.
"Are you ready?" Naomi asks, and breathes in sharply through her nose when Emily's hand comes to rest on her own on the top of the sofa.
"Show me," she says in a voice lower than Naomi's ever heard before.
And, leaning forwards with her eyes fixed on Emily's lips, she does.
****
The hard part, of course, is trying to remember that she's not supposed to be making love to Emily because that's all she wants to do, really. But she knows how she treated Sophia, and it wasn't delicately, and it wasn't how she was with Emily, not even nearly.
When she and Emily fucked it was totally equal, like Naomi could fuck her from behind with two fingers, pulling Emily by the hips until she was bouncing back and forth and crying out to be fucked just that little bit harder and it would still be about both of them, completely. She'd know because afterwards, before Emily had even caught her breath, she'd pull Naomi towards her and kiss her like she hadn't kissed her in a week. And Naomi had fucked her as hard as she could but it was all for Emily, always.
When she fucked Sophia it was... different. Selfish. And she's not sure she wants Emily to see that side of her.
But the truth is all she has left now, so when Emily meets her halfway and, oh, they're finally kissing again, it takes all of Naomi's willpower to stop from whimpering into her mouth.
Naomi doesn't waste any time, she can't stop to savour Emily like she wants to, so she starts to push Emily down, still connected by the kiss.
"That quick, was it?" Emily asks between them and, fuck, she's going be questioned the whole way through. And she's going to have to answer every single time.
"Yeah," Naomi says, focussing on her actions, on the feel of Emily underneath her. "Move your legs around."
Emily lifts them off the floor and slides them underneath Naomi, her grip tight on the back of Naomi's neck.
"Like this?" she asks, smacking a kiss against Naomi's lips.
"Yeah... yeah, like that, I think," Naomi stumbles because, Christ, Emily is right there, where she hasn't been in forever, and Naomi wants to stop this all now, stop the game or whatever the fuck it is and just make love to Emily like she's Emily, not some fucked up version of something that was fucked up to begin with.
But she doesn't get the chance, isn't allowed to even think it, and Emily's pulling back and looking her in the eye.
"Tell me..." she starts, and then swallows. "Tell me how to kiss you."
It breaks Naomi, those words, because it sounds like Emily, it really does. But when she looks into her eyes she knows that it's not really. At least not the Emily she knows.
The Emily she loves, and has loved forever.
"Kiss me like... fuck's sake," Naomi closes her eyes and swallows because it's one thing to act this out but it's another to give direction. "Kiss me like you kind of can't believe it's happening. Not like at the lake where you knew that I wanted you but... but sort of like you had no idea. Like we'd never kissed before."
Emily nods and Naomi leans down into her, and she doesn't slide her leg between Emily's legs like she wants to because that's not what happened; Naomi's remembering the more she goes along - remembers where Sophia's hands where, her legs, her lips. And it's sort of like a memory from childhood, where you have a vague memory of it happening, always, but you don't really connect with it. Until one day you do, and something happens, and it's there in your mind - so real that you feel like you're reliving it.
But now, right now, Naomi is reliving it. Emily is Sophia. Emily is Sophia.
"Rub your hands up and down my back," Naomi says whilst nipping at Emily's lips, and she's been doing it, been kissing like she's too shocked to even know how to do it properly and it's made Naomi more forceful, like she was on that afternoon. She's there to take something. To punish Emily, sort of, for loving her so much.
Emily complies, smoothing her hands along Naomi's back over her t-shirt and Naomi can't help but shiver at the knowledge that Emily's hands are so close to her skin. But Emily's doing too good a job of being Sophia already that Naomi starts to feel a bit queasy, just like she did at the time.
So she follows the script, replays what's already been done, and gets annoyed that this girl who seemed to want her is being so fucking gentle, is lying there and just letting Naomi take, so she takes some more.
She kisses her way down to Emily's ear and shifts to the side so that she's lying next to her. There's not a lot of room to manoeuvre but Emily's smaller than Sophia so it helps as they squish together on the couch.
Emily's had to let her hands fall to her sides, one wrapped around Naomi and still stroking deceptively lazily but Naomi knows it can't be because neither of them are getting lost in this. They can't allow themselves to, won't.
As Naomi's lips press down hard onto Emily's skin, she reaches an earlobe and leans up to whisper into it as she rests a hand on Emily's stomach.
"It was like this," Naomi starts, and Emily inhales quickly through her nose when Naomi's fingers trail up to brush across a nipple. "It was like this, and I'll show you if you want me to. Just remember, she wasn't you so I'm going to have to pretend that you're not you for a bit. Do you understand?"
She sucks on Emily's neck and feels her nod.
"Yeah... yeah, okay," Emily says quietly in that croaky voice that Naomi hasn't heard in so long but it means that she's actually fucking getting turned on by this and, really, Naomi was fully expecting to get turned on by touching Emily, but not by this charade that they were perpetuating.
It's almost better in a way (of course it is) than it was the first time around because now she has Emily at her mercy, and she shouldn't like that she's starting to feel things but she can't help it, not when she's almost angrily grabbing at Emily's breast and tweaking her nipple not at all gently between her thumb and forefinger.
She wants to buck her hips, push herself onto Emily's leg, but she can't. She didn't have that urge with Sophia (even though afterwards she was so wet she got herself off so quickly that when she came she cried with her face buried in a cushion that smelled of someone it shouldn't) so she couldn't with Emily now.
But Emily's starting to wriggle a little, and Naomi knows that part of her must be enjoying this a little more than she'd meant to.
"God," Emily breathes as Naomi slips her hand up Emily's t-shirt and pushes her bra up without undoing it. "You were a bit fucking rough, weren't you?"
"Yeah," Naomi murmurs, her lips still fastened to the side of Emily's neck. "Yeah, I had to be."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want her to want me. I wanted her to need me, like this, but I didn't want her to want me."
Emily turns her head and Naomi's fingers slow, and it's like they've come to an impasse of sorts. She hadn't know that, really, until she said it. And now she's wondering if this was Emily's plan all along - to get Naomi to understand why she did it, to get Naomi to relive it so that she could understand why they were breaking, why they were broken before this even happened.
She doesn't mean for them to but her eyes start to well up and she doesn't want to fucking cry but she's been letting herself feel everything lately and now, now she's lying here pretending that this isn't Emily and pretending that what she's doing right now isn't all she's wanted for the last five months.
Except it's not this. Not exactly.
But she's thinking too much and Emily's noticed and is tilting Naomi's head back up with two fingers under her chin.
Her eyes are right there, and they're so dark that Naomi wonders if there's any light getting to them at all. But when she speaks she sounds like Emily and Naomi almost shatters beside her.
"Naomi, I need you. Now. So," she says, placing her hand over Naomi's and squeezing tight so that there are four fingers around her nipple instead of two. "What happens next?"
****
Naomi lets it all go, then - these feelings that she's been choking on, and lets herself be that girl who took an almost stranger home and fucked her behind her girlfriend's back.
She remembers the sickness but also the excitement, and it floods back to her in waves, the way Sophia's chest was bare and bruised from her kisses because it's all in front of her again, but this time she's shaped like Emily and is making little Emily noises.
(Naomi considers for a moment being even more selfish than she was at the time and taking more from Emily than she took from Sophia by getting Emily to finger her at the same time but she can't quite bring herself to do it. She's told enough lies already. And, besides, she doesn't deserve to get off tonight. Not like this.)
Naomi's already moved Emily's hands to her hair where she's pulling on it wherever she can and making the plaits come loose, and Naomi recalls her appearance from when Sophia left - her hair a mess and her clothing rumpled and her lips red, and how it reminded her of that day that Emily left with no shoes and a fake bruise to bear.
Only this time, the bruises are real, and Naomi's being too rough with her mouth, too aggressive with her teeth as she bites down on one of Emily's nipples while she twists the other with her fingers.
"Oh, fuck, Naoms," Emily grunts, and Naomi wonders if she even knows that she let slip that term of endearment and tries not to smile because she didn't, not once, with Sophia. Not when Naomi's hand was sliding up the inside of her thigh and her breathing was getting heavier, anyway.
Sophia hadn't been wearing a skirt like Emily is, but it doesn't matter, and it makes it easier anyway to reach up and pull Emily's tights down (and Naomi knows that whatever Emily had been up to earlier in the evening no one had been here) and off over her feet.
The angle is better this way, and Naomi knows that she won't hurt her knuckle rubbing against the zipper of Sophia's shorts, so when she reaches up under Emily's skirt and trails one finger up the length of Emily's cunt over her knickers Naomi feels herself get even wetter.
"Jesus," Emily groans as Naomi kisses her way back up her neck. "Right-handed, then?"
"Well yeah," Naomi says, her voice muffled and her finger rubbing a circle over Emily's clit. "Would have been a bit awkward to swap positions."
"Why not just go upstairs? Why not just - "
"Em," Naomi stops her, suddenly very alert and almost panicked. She watches Emily gulp as she rolls her head to the side again but this time her eyes don't open. "Emily - look at me."
Naomi's hand doesn't stop moving below Emily's skirt because she knows that if it does she'll have to take it away and then she won't be able to help from running her fingers through Emily's hair and across her cheek and over her eyebrows and... she didn't do it to Sophia so it's not happening now.
Slowly, though, Emily opens her eyes and Naomi considers jacking this all in anyway, but Emily's still jerking her hips in time with Naomi's fingers so she can only finish what she started.
"Emily," she tries again. "There was no way I would do that. That's our room - nobody's allowed in there, okay?"
Emily nods and shakes her head all at once and Naomi falls a little bit more in love with her again just for understanding that one thing.
And now she just wants it to be over, just like she did back then, so she surges forwards and smothers Emily in a kiss as her fingers move faster.
Emily gasps into it and it allows Naomi to slide her tongue into her mouth and Naomi wonders if she's getting it now, that this isn't who they're supposed to be. But she needs for it to be done, so she slips her hand underneath the elastic of Emily's knickers and pushes two fingers down into the wetness there.
Naomi can't help it; she moans into Emily's mouth (she thinks she did with Sophia anyway) and Emily kisses her back harder.
"Not so hard, she didn't... she wanted to keep it nice, but I wouldn't let her."
"God," Emily says between kisses. "You were a fucking cunt to her, weren't you?"
"Yes," Naomi hisses, because she was. Because Sophia never gave anything back and just let herself be fucked and then got told to leave. Because Naomi took what she wanted and then threw Sophia away. And now Emily's got it, what this was meant to be, and for some reason she's not pushing her away. She's still right there, breathing heavily into each kiss, her fingernails digging into Naomi's shoulders.
"And... and you kept your clothes on?"
"Yes, the whole time..."
"Fuck," and even though Naomi's picked up the pace, Emily's still coherent to ask things, like they're all she's thought about since Naomi watched her put her heart in that box along with Sophia's and throw it off that roof. "Fuck... and was she... was she as wet as me?"
And Naomi remembers, of course she remembers that, and she whispers against Emily's lips, her voice high and uncontrolled now:
"Yes, fuck, Em... she was so fucking wet, I can't..."
"Go inside me," Emily says, and she puts her hand where Sophia did, right on Naomi's forearm, and tries to move it down.
But Naomi doesn't budge. She's following the rules and she knows that if she breaks this one then a fuckload more will be broken in quick succession.
"No, I can't," she says, never taking her lips away from Emily's.
"What? Why?" Emily breathes, anger laced in her voice as she pulls away.
"Because that's not what happened Em. I need to show you how it happened, now that we've started. Or you'll never be able to understand."
They both still for a moment, Emily's grip loosening around Naomi's arm, and their eyes searching each other's, Naomi's willing Emily to just accept that this is the way things have to be.
It seems like an eternity before Emily nods and whispers, "Okay," and Naomi starts moving her fingers again.
And it's sort of ridiculous, that she's not giving Emily what she wants seeing as they've gone this far already. But there are conditions to this, ones that Naomi knows she can't break if she ever wants to get them back to where they should be.
Not back to how it was before but better. Somewhere better and further on than they've ever been.
So she pushes against Emily, closes her eyes and pictures Sophia (an image which is blurry at best) and remembers the way her body moved underneath Naomi's, how she so desperately wanted more than Naomi had to offer, and she bites Emily's neck and Emily jumps at the contact.
"Did she like that, when you did that to her?" she murmurs, digging her nails deeper into Naomi's skin and it just makes Naomi push down harder.
"No, no I don't think so. But I couldn't help it... I didn't... she wasn't you and I just..."
"Just show me what happens next."
Naomi forces herself to open her eyes, like she did that night, when she realised that the girl underneath her, this girl who was no one to her, really, was going to unravel underneath her and she just had to see it.
She wanted someone else to come undone, for a change. For her to be caught up in something she didn't understand but knew that she wanted and it made Naomi go a little faster back then and it does now, watching the way that Emily's breasts are so inelegantly exposed underneath her bra and are moving around with every jerk of her hips.
Emily opens her mouth in a wordless expression of want, of that feeling of almost, and it's still nothing like Sophia so Naomi brings them back to that place.
"Close your mouth. She had her mouth closed, like if she said anything then it would all stop. Like I'd remember who she was and then it wouldn't be happening any more."
Emily complies, purses her lips together, rocks her hips into Naomi's hand like she can't help but move them. She's in motion where Sophia was still, but Naomi can't stop that, can't stop from watching as Emily lets herself go for the first time in months, and still she keeps her mouth closed.
And Naomi remembers it then, that moment where it all came crashing down, and she puts her lips close to Emily's ear in whispers into it, shaking as she speaks.
"Come for me," Naomi says, and then she feels all her muscles tense. "Come for me now, Sophia."
Emily makes a low, guttural sound, opens her mouth wide to let it out as Naomi's fingers slide around her cunt, pushing and pulling at her clit, and it's still not gentle and it still can't be and Emily's tilted her head back as her body moves in defined, jagged pulses.
"You fucking..." Emily starts, and then stops and Naomi's impressed that she's still remembering the game that isn't even as she's coming.
Naomi watches then, sees the control she had, the one she didn't realise she didn't even fucking want until it was too late, and takes in all of Emily as she breaks, just as Sophia did.
Just as Naomi did, all by herself, once she was alone again.
When Emily reaches the peak of it all she cries out and Naomi can only do her best to keep her fingers moving, to bring Emily back down to a place where it's quieter, calmer than before.
They're both breathing heavily and Naomi's still swirling her fingers slowly around Emily's clit as she watches Emily's tongue dart out and lick her lips.
It's usually the time that Naomi would go to her, kiss her as she comes down, kiss her for all that belongs to them and seal it between them. But she knows that she can't right now, because she didn't kiss Sophia. Not after.
"Fuck," Emily breathes out shakily, pulling her hand from Naomi's arm and running it through her hair. She turns her face away and Naomi wonders if this is it - if this is the end, truly.
It's what makes her leave her hand in Emily's knickers, makes her twitch her fingers again, which makes Emily gasp as she snaps her head around to where Naomi's watching, biting her lip and waiting to be told to leave.
She closes her eyes, then, to help take the blow, but it never comes and, suddenly, she's got lips pressed against her own and her hand is being removed from between Emily's legs and held above her head.
"Em, what...?" she manages to ask between kisses as Emily's rolling on top of her and reaching for her other hand.
She holds them both above Naomi's head, awkwardly pressing into the arm of the couch and it forces her chest up into Emily's.
"Shut up," Emily says, plastering kisses down her neck. "Just shut up and let me fucking... Just let me..."
So Naomi does because, really, she'd take anything right now and she's so fucking wet that she can barely concentrate on anything else.
But then Emily's straddling her and lifting her t-shirt off over her head and undoing her bra and flinging it away, and Naomi can't help but stare because Emily is so beautiful and she wants to press her lips against the skin between her breasts and press her cheek up against them and breathe Emily in.
"I bet this is what she wanted, really," Emily says from somewhere above her. "To have you look at her, like this. But you didn't did you? You didn't want to see?"
Naomi bites down on her lip and shakes her head, wonders where all of this is going, really. But her honesty seems to be working all over the place tonight because Emily's pushing her t-shirt up over her stomach and breasts and then, as she's pulling it over Naomi's head Naomi finds herself inches away from Emily's breasts and it wouldn't take much to lean upwards and press a light kiss to one of her nipples but Emily's too quick. The top is swiftly off and then they're both there, shirtless and so close together.
Emily presses her hands down on Naomi's wrists again, holding her in place (like she was brave enough to move anyway) and hovering above Naomi's face.
"This is how it feels, you know. To be so close to something you want, Naoms. Do you get that?"
And Naomi's worried now because it seems like she's enabled Emily - like something has been lying dormant inside her and it's all about to come out. But she has to play along, now, least of all because Emily's sliding a knee up between her legs and providing Naomi with a much needed pressure against her cunt.
When she doesn't answer, Emily looks down at her, curtained by red hair (red for anger, Naomi thinks, red for revenge...) and says, "Do you get it?" and punctuates it with a hard nudge against her pussy that isn't completely pleasant.
"Fuck," Naomi hisses. "Yes, yes I know, but Ems..."
"Don't," Emily says, her other hand covering Naomi's mouth, which means there's now a lot of pressure on her wrists as they hold all of Emily's weight and it's really not that nice. Not even with Emily leaving light kisses along her jaw, totally contrasting with the way she's not being gentle anywhere else.
She's rocking her knee against Naomi's cunt, and it's not enough, not even nearly, but it's better than nothing.
And it's better still when Emily moves her hand away from Naomi's mouth so she can breathe properly but rests it on Naomi's throat, her thumb rubbing at the underside of Naomi's chin.
Emily slides herself down Naomi's body and finally, finally puts some proper pressure on her cunt as Emily's thigh pushes against her.
She starts a rhythm that is far too slow, it's all just not enough, but Naomi doesn't feel like she can ask for anything, not when Emily's already giving her more than she was expecting.
"So," Emily says, and Naomi notes the growl in her voice, the way it shakes into her ear. "Do you think that she would have wanted to do this to you? To feel you underneath her like this?"
Naomi can only manage a small, "Oh," but it's not want Emily wants, clearly, and she lets Naomi know by squeezing her throat ever so slightly and her eyes go wide as she looks into Emily's.
"Yes, yes she would have... she wanted to but I wouldn't let her. I couldn't..."
"So you felt... frustrated." Emily stills her leg, stops moving all together, and all Naomi hear is the sound of her own ragged breaths hitting the side of Emily's face.
"Yes," Naomi manages, and she's never felt so small, so... useless. And she knows that Emily has taken the power back.
She wonders, really, if Emily's had the power all along.
Of course she has.
****
It's all sort of horrible from then on, Emily asking questions Naomi doesn't want to answer as she moves down Naomi's body, nipping at her chest.
"Did she want to touch your breasts?" Emily says as she covers one of them with a small hand, massaging it gently.
And Naomi answers yes; answers yes to all the questions of, "Would she have wanted to suck your nipple?' and "Did she want to finger your clit, like this?" and "Would she have wanted to go inside you?"
But Emily stops there, stops before sliding her fingers inside, and Naomi is just breaking at the contact, and all her brain can think is that Emily is touching her again, even though it's not right.
Emily's fingers are resting on the entrance to her cunt, completely still, and it's taking Naomi every inch of willpower not to move, not to push herself down onto them, and Emily is just staring at her own fingers and where they're heading like they've never seen each other like this before. Like they've never been here before.
And Naomi almost wants it to stop, but there's a chance that this could be helping Emily, and helping them both, so she has to let her carry on.
"You know," Emily says, one hand resting on Naomi's stomach, the fingers of the other gently stroking but never pushing. "Before we had sex, before I knew what sex really was, I used to think about this. About you. Having you all to myself and making love to you, so, so slowly. And then, then it happened..."
Naomi swallows as Emily rakes her nails down her stomach and pressing two fingertips to Naomi's clit and keeping them there, and Naomi can't help but buck into her then.
"No," Emily says firmly, her eyes snapping back up to Naomi's face. "No, you don't move."
She doesn't really know how much longer she can stay still for, really, but Naomi nods anyway and waits for Emily to continue.
"And it was incredible. Everything about you - you were incredible. And you let me... you let me have you. And then you ran away."
"Em, I'm sorry, I - "
"And I remember thinking, as you left, that I was left with the taste of you in my mouth. I could smell you everywhere." Emily shakes her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, hiding her face, as she starts moving the fingers on Naomi's clit ridiculously slowly.
Naomi arches her back a little before remembering and stopping, squeezing her eyes shut and biting down on her lip just to focus on the pain of it rather than on everything that Emily's doing to her and everything that she's not.
"But, at least I got that. I had something to take away with me - that little piece of you that you'd given. But... but this girl, this girl Sophia she had nothing. You gave her nothing, Naomi, and you took everything, from both of us."
She has to look back then, to see the first tear fall from Emily and land close to where her fingers are still moving.
"Emily, I..." Naomi trails off because she just has no idea anymore, no idea at all, what she's supposed to make of this and she feels like she's even stopped getting wet now because she's a bit freaked out.
She should never have said yes to this, and she knows it. She can't see how this is going to help now, and wonders if Emily's taken something tonight to make her act this way, to be acting out, punishing her like this for being so fucking selfish.
And she sort of gets where Emily's coming from - that Sophia never got the chance to be a part of this like she had wanted to be. How she never got to break Naomi, not once.
So maybe that's it - Emily wants to break her now, into tiny pieces, so they can both be broken together.
Naomi exhales shakily and sits up, placing a nervous hand over Emily's and stopping her fingers from moving.
"Em, look at me now. Em?"
And when Emily looks up her lip is quivering and her eyes are shiny with uncried tears. But she does look, and it only takes a second for her to see Naomi, to actually see her, before she crumbles.
Naomi puts a palm to Emily's cheek and she nuzzles into it.
"Em, you have to understand - you don't have to do this, you know? I know, I know it all, what I did. To you and to me and to her. I know, okay?"
"But how can you, Naomi? How can you when she's..."
Emily doesn't need to finish and tries to turn her head away but Naomi holds her in place, forces her to look into her eyes, just one more time, to try and get this through.
"I took it, okay? I took whatever she'd give and she let me. And I couldn't let her touch me because she wasn't you, and I just... I just couldn't."
Emily sniffs against Naomi's palm and closes her eyes.
"So let me be her, now. Let me take from you what you wouldn't give to her. And then maybe we can... we can move on from this. Okay?"
Her eyes open slowly, like it hurts her to do it, and Naomi's there waiting with a shaky nod.
"Okay. Okay, Em. Take what you want."
****
The first thing she takes is a kiss, slow and gentle and not at all the way Naomi would have kissed Sophia, but now she gets that this is how Sophia would have wanted to kiss her so she runs with it.
She lets Emily push her down onto the couch and maps Naomi's body so carefully that Naomi's sure Emily will have an imprint of it in her mind forever.
But, even though it feels amazing, it's the worst thing ever because Emily isn't doing this for her, she's doing it for Sophia. For this girl that died, this girl that killed herself because she couldn't have what Emily had. And she wants Naomi to suffer for it, for giving Sophia so little and taking more from Emily in the process.
If that's the way it has to be, though, then that's it. So Naomi lets Emily slip a hand back between them and finds Naomi's clit with ease, working her fingers around it, dipping down into the wetness that's further down and coating her fingers with it so they slide around effortlessly.
(Naomi doesn't stop to tell Emily that she doubts Sophia would have been so skilful - that she wouldn't have known how to touch Naomi in order to make her breath hitch and her pulse quicken. There's no point because Emily is moving so slowly that if Naomi makes this thing take any more time she'll have died from frustration.
And she doesn't think that Emily could even pretend to be bad at this. Not even for a second.)
She wants so desperately to tell Emily that she loves her, that she's always loved her, since before she even knew what love was, but know isn't the time.
She wonders when it will be time, if she'll ever get the chance again.
****
When Emily finally puts some pressure on her clit, finally moves a little faster and kisses Naomi so deeply she's not sure she'll remember how to breathe again afterwards, Naomi gives in.
She lets Emily move against her like it's them (or very almost them) and forgets that she's not supposed to be enjoying this and moans into Emily's mouth.
Emily smiles, Naomi can feel it, as she nips at her bottom lip, and shifts to the side so that she has a better angle as she pushes two fingers inside Naomi, slowly but in completely straight away, hard and deep, and Naomi pushes down onto them.
It's never the same, when she touches herself - she can't get her fingers to move in the same way and remembers every time how she's squandered the chance to have Emily do this to her, for her. So now, now that Emily's leaning over her and watching intently as Naomi's body jerks with every thrust, she revels in it.
There's nothing fast about it but Emily's so deep inside her that Naomi wonders if she'll ever be closer to her.
Her breathing is sharp and shallow now, and they're looking at each other, looking and searching for a way for this to make sense. And Emily nods, once, and Naomi pushes her own hand between them and finds her clit and thank fuck because she's able to stroke it neatly between her fingers as Emily picks up the pace and fucks her like Naomi feels like she deserves to be fucked - hard and fast and a bit roughly.
"Yes," she gasps against Emily's mouth, who's kissing her more than she was before. "Yes, yes, oh fucking Christ."
"Yeah?" Emily asks, and Naomi lifts her leg and thumps her hips forward, bringing them down onto Emily's fingers, and she can feel that Emily's got wet again by the way she's sliding up and down on her thigh.
She brings her other arm around Emily's waist tightly and pushes her down onto her thigh, kneading her fingers into Emily's skin.
Emily groans, deeply, right from the throat, and kisses her way from Naomi's mouth around to her shoulder and buries her head there.
It gives Naomi the chance to see Emily's arm moving quickly between their bodies and her own moving frantically, watching her knuckles as they bend and flex between her legs.
And it's nothing like usual, but it's also nothing like Sophia now, because they want each other and Naomi knows it, that this isn't a random fuck, it's never been random between them, and she can tell as Emily whimpers into her neck and she feels her own muscles tense around Emily's fingers.
"Oh... Oh Jesus, Em..." she manages just before words become impossible and she resorts to a series of high-pitched cries that flow from her mouth like the breath from her lungs, like how the world gives her air, like Emily gives her life and it's all she can do to stay alive.
To breathe her in. To whimper beneath her and show her that she broke her long, long ago and hope that Emily understands that she really cannot survive without her.
Emily thrusts a bit harder, pushes herself a bit harder down onto Naomi's thigh, and Naomi feels it then, and she comes in waves around Emily's fingers, furthered by her own uncoordinated flicks against her clit and she rides it out - they ride it out together - and Naomi's still coming down as Emily moves against her thigh and comes only moments after, arching her neck back and crying out.
Naomi can only watch, watch as the girl she loves squeezes her eyes together and grips hold of her cunt where her fingers are still inside, and grinds down on her thigh as she comes.
In a moment of bravery, Naomi shifts up and brings Emily down into a kiss that she can only hope conveys what she means. It's so full of desperation that it's all she's got left to offer right now. And when Emily kisses back she thinks it means they've made progress.
"Emily," Naomi whispers against her lips. "Emily, I - "
"Don't," Emily says pulling away, her arms still slung over Naomi's shoulders and their foreheads resting together. "Don't, I can't hear it right now."
Naomi nods, accepts a kiss as Emily leans down, and, taking one last deep breath, she climbs off her, gathering her clothes.
She watches, Naomi does, and she's really not sure how many times her heart can break before it's irreparable, but she sure as fuck hopes it's at least one more when Emily looks back over her shoulder and says, sadly:
"I'm going to sleep in the spare room tonight. Give me five minutes to use the bathroom."
Naomi nods and curls into herself, forcing herself to look away from Emily as she feels the tears coming a-fucking-gain.
She's not sure, but she thinks that Emily stands there for a moment, like there's something else she wants to say but, by the time Naomi works up the balls to look, she's gone and padding slowly up the stairs.
It can't have fixed anything, what they just did. But really, could it have made anything any worse?
Naomi isn't sure, she can't tell right now, but she waits, silently crying into the couch, into that fucking couch, with her fists tightly curled around a cushion, and thinks that surely, surely, one of them will do something soon to snap them out of this.
Whatever it was, though, it wasn't this.
Naomi waits for the toilet to flush and the door to click shut (she wonders if Emily stops to look at the photo of them that's there, a photo from Emily's birthday where they were both just ridiculous and perfect and them) before she moves on.
The ache is nothing. It doesn't matter. Nothing does while Emily is there and not there all at once.
****
Naomi climbs into the bed that she knows she shouldn't be in alone but can't figure out how to share again and whispers, "I'm sorry," to the darkness.
To Emily, to Sophia, to all of them.
She sleeps, but not soundly. She's not sure she ever will again.