Fic: The Warmth - Emily/Naomi
Title: The Warmth
Pairing: Emily/Naomi
Word count: 6700
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set at the end of 408.
A/N: So, I wrote most of this ages ago, but I feel really shitty about not having another chapter of ATBB done so I thought I'd finish this up for now. Not as proofread as usual! So apologies for mistakes! And cheers to my usual pair of supporters/betas/friends. Oh, and title from a song by Incubus.
Don’t let the world bring you down // Not everyone here is that fucked up and cold // Remember why you came and why you’re alive // Experience the warmth before you grow old
The party starts again around you both, but you can barely feel it. All you know is that you’re tingling all over, like when you’ve let your feet get so cold they go numb and you step into the shower and you can’t feel the heat at first but then slowly, ever so slowly, it creeps back into your bones.
If you’re honest (which you’re trying to be again) you’ve felt it itching against your skin for weeks now, more so since you started sharing a bed again when you'd pretend you were asleep and stretch your leg out just so it grazed against hers. And it was fine until she noticed, and jerked away like she was scared, and then it was like the water had run cold and you'd have to get out from under it.
Now though, with her hair in your hands feeling softer than it’s ever been and her lips against your neck murmuring Sorry, I’m so sorry over and over, you’re letting yourself feel the warmth.
Only it doesn’t start at your toes this time - it’s higher up, much higher, and it’s pounding against your chest in a way you never thought it would again. And it’s flooding through you until your face remembers how to smile and you laugh.
She pulls back then, and looks down at you, and wipes a thumb across your cheek where you’re actually still crying and it makes her cry a little bit harder.
“Hey,” you say, gripping her tightly around the back of her neck. “We can stop doing that now.”
Then she laughs at you, and it’s kind of beautiful, you think (again, she’s beautiful, finally), and she nudges against your nose with her own. “I’ll stop if you stop.”
“Right,” you say, and you’re all croaky again, and you stand there with your foreheads pressed together until your sister gets impatient from somewhere to your right.
“Jesus, you two. You’re sorted, it’s fine - can we move the fuck on now, please?”
“Easy there, Katiekins - if they want to take some time to make up I’m not about to stop them.”
You hear an Oof! from Cook as Katie smacks him somewhere, and then she’s squealing and he’s laughing, but none of it matters.
You’ve got her back. And she’s got you. And you both really, really, need a fucking drink.
****
You all drink to Freddie, wherever the fuck he is, and try not to look at the nervous glances your sister’s shooting Effy and focus on the sound of Naomi’s laughter instead as she watches Cook choke on his smoke rings.
Her hand hasn’t left yours the whole time, and you really don’t want it to, even when someone hands you a spliff and you’ve got a drink so you just wedge it in between your thighs as you take a toke, waggle your eyebrows at her and she opens her mouth for you to exhale into.
And while you can’t be touching everywhere you think you’d like to be, you’ll settle for this for now because already it’s so much better than it has been.
It's almost a distant memory now, all those months in the wilderness, both of you struggling to find your way back into the light. You'd wonder, now, how it had gotten so dark but there's such a shine in her eyes that you can't bring yourself to dwell on it.
"Come on, let's have a dance," you say, almost reluctantly because you're cuddled in so closely together that the thought of breaking apart even for a second sounds painful, but it's worth it for the look on her face when she smiles again, all tears having dissipated, and pulls you both onto your feet.
Cook whoops at the pair of you as you stand, and pulls JJ up from the floor and holds him the way you're holding her, and it's funny again. It's fun. And you bump your hip into Cook's as he dances near you.
Your heart melts a little bit as you meet JJ's eyes and he produces a big, braces-clad grin and then spares one for Naomi who smiles back at him and clearly means it, probably for the first time ever.
It's like your family's back together again, though how you've all come to be friends you'll never quite know.
There's something about being in Freddie's place, who really, somehow, never quite fit even though he was the one with links to most of you.
Katie had gotten over him miraculously quickly, and looking at her now as she spins Effy round to applause from Panda, you realise just how much you fucking love her, too.
"Hey," Naomi says, and you figure that you must have gone quiet. "You all right, hon?"
"Yeah," you whisper, and lean up on your tiptoes into a kiss. Because you can, now. Freely. Probably more freely than ever before.
You don't even want to slap Cook for ruining the moment by announcing to everyone that he needs a slash, and you actually don't mind when he squeezes your hip and plants a prolonged kiss on Naomi's cheek, grinning at her toothily before slipping out through the door.
"God, he's fucking wasted," Naomi chuckles, shaking her head as she watches him go. "You want another drink?"
You're about to say yes when you look around and notice that everyone's oblivious to the fact that you're even there, just getting on with their own conversations, not worried for the first time in ages that you're about to rip each other's heads off.
And it's not like those times at school where Katie would steal all of the attention and you'd be left in the corner at a party by yourself, wishing that Naomi would turn up just so you could watch her scowl at you for even half a second.
And that thought means that you suddenly have a million questions that you need to ask, like right now, and you want nothing more than to be alone together so that you can ask them. About if maybe when you had been looking around for her she had been looking around for you at the same time.
Or like those times where you'd be sat near her at the pub and your arms would brush against each other and you'd feel heat spread throughout your body and your skin would prickle and your mouth would go dry. Those times, did she feel that way too?
"Actually," you say as you turn back to her, away from where JJ's playing slaps with Karen like they've done it for the last ten years or more, and away from Katie and Effy who are sharing a spliff even though Katie really doesn't look like she can handle it, and shake your head. "Actually no. I think I'd like to go home."
Naomi blinks, then, and is a second away from disappointment, so you save her from it quickly. "No, I mean, back to ours. If it is still that...?"
Her fingers release and tighten in your hand again, and you watch her shoulders drop as they relax.
Too tense, you think, and you get that it's going to take more than just one truth, even though it's far bigger than any of the lies she's ever told, to get you back on track. Back to where not only you trust her, but she trusts you, too.
"Fuck, Ems, yeah. Yeah, of course it is. It always has been."
You kiss her again, then, even though you know you've got so much time for it, but you feel like you're catching up. Like you can't possibly make up for all the time you've spent not kissing her, or at least not kissing her right.
You need to make a start, though, so you steal one more before resting back on your feet.
Naomi's adorable, you think as you watch her take a moment to open her eyes, and you realise how she's allowing herself to get lost in you. Just like you do in her, or you will once your brain stops racing so quickly to try and keep pace with how fast your heart is beating.
"Okay," you smile, and then turn to Katie.
"Katie, we're going to go, okay?"
"Huh?" Katie frowns at you, and Effy grins ridiculously beside her and then cups her hand over Katie's ear to whisper into it. "Oh my God, Eff. What the actual fuck is... Sorry. I mean... ugh. Fine, go. But, wait," she starts and staggers to her feet. And you notice the way that Effy watches her, and it's with such open affection that you wonder just what the fuck they've both been going through lately to make that happen and you resolve to ask your sister later.
"Listen, Ems," Katie lisps as she straightens out her dress. "You too, Naoms. Like... I just want you to know that... oh, fuck it." She startles the both of you, then, by pulling you both into a tight hug that leaves Naomi looking at you over the top of Katie's head, eyes wide and amused.
"Now, fuck off, yeah?" Katie sniffs. "And be careful. It's, like, dark now."
"Christ, Katie," Naomi pokes Katie's shoulder with her finger. "No more spliff for you, yeah?"
Katie looks like she's about to contest that ruling when her brow knits together and she says, "Yeah, that might be an idea. I've still got my key - is it all right to -"
"Course," Naomi says before you get the chance to, and you squeeze her hand a little tighter. "I've gotten used to washing with cold water so it'd be weird now if you weren't there to use up all the hot for me before I get up."
"Bitch," Katie smirks. And then, in your ear as she's hugging you by yourself, she tells you that she loves you in twin and you say it back, ignoring Naomi's questioning look when you pull away.
Katie goes back to Effy and immediately takes the spliff again, and you and Naomi both roll your eyes as you pick your bags up from the floor.
You say bye to the room, catching JJ saying, "Oh, and if you see Cook out there tell him he's been bloody ages. Bladder like a sieve, honestly."
"Will do," you shout as you close the door behind you both, and take a moment to breathe in the fresh air.
It's started raining at some point, and you know it's going to fuck with both of your curls (or waves, really, and you're glad that you dyed your hair over a week ago because it'd be running fucking everywhere by now) but you don't really care. There's only one thing that matters now, and she's rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand and your shiver is nothing to do with the temperature.
Cook's nowhere to be seen, and you shrug. You know he can't get far and everyone's already here so you don't know where else he'd go. (Everyone except Freddie, though, and you wonder for a moment if Cook's found him and run off to stop him getting on a plane or something like at the end of a shitty romcom.)
Naomi reassures you that Cook's only got one place to go and that he'd be home later. And it's comforting in a way, as Naomi lights two fags and passes one to you, knowing that at least two members of your family will be coming home tonight.
Or three, actually, counting Naomi. But then she's always been above the rest. She doesn't need to be quantified, to be lumped in with the others, even though they're special in their own way, and special to you.
Naomi's just more than everything. And you realise your brain's gone silly so you shake your head at yourself and lean it against Naomi's shoulder.
You walk like that the entire way home, all the questions you wanted to ask slipping away from you as you fall further into each other and take yet another step towards home.
****
When you get to the door, Naomi breaks free from you and reaches into her bag but, putting your hand on top of hers, you stop her.
"It's okay," you say softly. "Let me."
You pull your key from your own bag even though, earlier, you'd had no idea why you wanted to keep it. Why you just couldn't bear to let go of it. But now you know.
It wasn't the key you were holding on to. Obviously.
You let her in first, pushing the door open for her to step through, and you follow her in.
It's still a bit of a tip from where the police had destroyed it earlier. There hadn't been time, you realise, for her to clean up all her messes in one night. But you'll help her with this one later. After you've helped with the first.
"Sorry," she says, kicking someone's shoes out of the way. "I wasn't sure if you'd be... you know. Back."
"Don't worry," you whisper, and stare at the stairs. She follows your gaze, and you both still.
You're not ready, yet. It's going back to a new room, really. And right now you just...
"Tea?" she asks, and regains her grip around your fingers, and you sigh internally.
"Yeah, go on."
****
The kitchen's not much better, and you clear a space on the table as she flicks the kettle on.
You watch her, then, moving around the room. And it's grounding, seeing her do something so normal. She's not the most graceful of people, and her hair's a little damp and clinging to her face, but it's really fucking hard not to go to her, spin her around and kiss her up against the kitchen side.
But you wait, and you watch her fumble with the tea bags. For the first time since you took her in your arms and kissed away her tears you realise how nervous she is. And it hurts your heart, then, rather than caressing it pleasantly as it had a moment before, and you realise that you both did this.
You'd known she was hurting - fuck, it was in every breath she took - but you hadn't known anything, really.
"Hey," you say, your voice almost betraying you by breaking. "Hey, babe. Forget the tea. Come over here." You pull out the chair next to you so that she doesn't sit any further away and wait for her to slowly settle into it.
"What's up?" she asks, and it's so falsely casual that you almost feel sorry for her again. But you know you can't, now. It's never going to work if you fucking pity each other.
"Naomi." You take her hands in yours and you think back to that night when all she really needed you to do was hold her hand. You couldn't look at her face then because you knew that it just got really fucking real for her and it would have broken you a little to look into her eyes and see a reflection of yourself.
Now, though. Now you have to look. Because it's time for the truth. From both of you. Finally.
"Do you... fuck," you rub your temple, feeling suddenly tired. "Do you think we can do this?"
And you know it's the conversation she knew was coming. But she looks ready.
"No, I don't think so," she says, and your heart falls into your stomach like a brick, but then she squeezes your hands and you look back into her eyes as she nods firmly. "I know that we can. Because... well. Because, Emily, really, there's never been another option."
You let out a shuddery breath, and it's her turn to be strong again as you feel so close to breaking. But you hold it together, shuffling in closer so her knees are wedged inside of your own.
"And," she continues. "And I know that I don't deserve your trust, not yet. But I'll fucking work for it, every single day, if you'll let me."
There's no way you can stop from crying then, and she's tilting up your chin as you sob and saying, "I love you," in that broken soprano that you don't want to hear again but know you'll hear forever, and then she's leaning forward and kissing you and it's just... God, it's better than before because you're alone now.
And not just because you've left the shed; there are no ghosts here anymore. No traces of other lips kissed or hands held. It's just you. Again.
It makes you kiss her back harder, wrapping your fingers around her hair again and tugging on it like it's your lifeline. It keeps you tied to her, and tied to reality where you need to remain because this is so much better than any dream you've ever had.
There's no stopping you then, and she's pushing back just as hard, your lips fitting perfectly together, moving like it's as natural as saying I'm Emily Fitch and I'm a twin, or I'm Emily Fitch and I'm gay or, really, I'm Emily Fitch and I fucking love Naomi Campbell.
You slide your hands out of her hair and down to her face, holding her there, feeling how her jaw moves under your fingers and she's just so real that you're taken aback by it like you were the first time. And the second. And the third, and every other fucking time after that.
The burn's already started in your belly when she's pulling away, and you're a little dazed, but then she's biting her lip and you realise you've both stopped crying.
Her eyes are tracing over your face, trying to see it all at once, before they settle on yours and she swallows.
"Em, would you like to come to bed with me?"
You're nodding, smiling through your pursed lips, as the kettle clicks off and the steam hits the cupboard above and you think about how you always bloody tell her to move it from there because it'll make the wood expand and then the door won't shut properly.
It's easier to focus on that, though, than the fact that you're going up to your room. The one you share but hasn't really felt like yours for a long while.
She pushes the door open first and your eyes instantly fall to the bed. Your top's there in the middle of it, not exactly where you think you left it, and you reach for it at the same time Naomi does.
You both blush, and you remember the last time you wore it and your eyes go back to the duvet.
"Um, Naoms. I know it's fucking late but... can we change the sheets?"
She looks at you, puzzled, and then her face clears.
"Oh. Oh right, yeah." She shakes her head, biting her lip as she leans over the bed and pulls the duvet back.
Her hands are unsteady as she's doing it and then, Oh fuck, you think, and realise what you might have just suggested.
"Hey," you say, taking her hands in yours, and it breaks your heart all over again when she can't quite meet your eyes. "We didn't, okay?"
She's been holding her breath, and it comes out in a big sigh as she shudders and then laughs unsteadily as she exhales.
"Shit. I mean, I did think it for a bit. Earlier today. But then..." She trails off, and you kiss her hand and smile at her as everything relaxes again. You're seven degrees of sorry for even making her think that, and then you swallow down the memory that maybe, for a fleeting second at some point, that you'd wanted to.
(Of course, even if some part of you had it would never have been for the right reasons, and you know that you didn't hate yourself enough to ever want to do it sober.)
"We really didn't. I couldn't, okay?"
She nods and closes her eyes, and you stroke the back of her slender fingers with your own shorter ones and you feel inferior once again. You don't think it's right, completely, but you've been so high and mighty lately that's nice to be brought back down to Earth just be the brief comparison of your fingers.
Her eyes are tired when she opens them again and you wonder if it means that you'll just be sleeping once you climb into bed in fresh, crisp sheets that you washed last Tuesday and hung on the line and thought about ripping them up with scissors because you were still so so angry.
(You're not, now, and it almost makes you want to cry at the relief of it all.)
You hope she doesn't ask about it (the Mandy thing, and you shudder when you think about her trying to kiss you this morning), and you undo the buttons on the duvet cover together, slowly, like you used to do. Only then you'd had music, and you'd sang along together and hit her with a pillow when she said you sounded like Katie after too many shots of tequila and you'd ended up making love even before you'd put the next lot of sheets on.
But you don't need music now. The gentle hum of her breathing is all you want to hear. Only you want it closer, up against your ear, your neck, your chest, and it makes you work a little faster to get the job done.
You climb over to the other side (which has somehow become your side even though she's left-handed and you're right and it's just sort of impractical) as she flaps a sheet over to you and you make a hospital corner just like your mum had shown you when you were old enough to make your own bed.
(Of course, you'd made Katie's too, and it's nice that you've still got someone to look after, and Naomi's always a little more grateful than Katie is so it's always worth making the effort.)
The smirk is difficult to contain as you think about how you've proven your mother wrong again. You've made it through this, right through to the other side, and you don't hate Naomi anymore.
"What?" she says, and you look up at her to find her smiling.
"Nothing," you reply, and pull the duvet up to where it meets the pillows. "Just thinking about you."
You didn't think it was still possible to make her blush by saying something as simple as that but she does. And it's so endearing that you realise you're far too far away from her.
There are still the pillows to go and you almost can't be arsed but it's got to be done. It's got to be all clear and new and right.
You're thinking of your first time together, down by the lake where it had been bumpy on the ground and your knees had ended up bruised and your jaw had ached from where you had licked her clit and it had tasted like something you'd never imagined.
And she'd been so wet - Christ, so wet - in a way you hadn't expected.
You'd known then, how much she wanted you. You'd just never known that she'd wanted you for so long, nor how deep that want actually went.
"Naomi," you start as you shake a pillow into its case.
She looks up and smiles, and you almost forget what you were going to say, but you carry on when you find yourself again.
"You know what you said, in the shed. About how you'd always..."
"Loved you?" she says softly, and smoothes some hair away from her face. "Yeah?"
"Why didn't you ever tell me? I mean, I get it, sort of. But you know... fuck, sorry," you shake your head, and within seconds she's slowly crawling across the bed on her knees towards you.
"It's okay," she almost-whispers, reaching for your hands. "I think my explanation left a little to be desired. And was about two years overdue."
You laugh, because it's surely more than that, and she grins at you and rolls her eyes.
"Yeah all right," she concedes. "But, Em, you've always been better than me. At everything and I just... Shit, yeah. I should have told you."
"It doesn't matter," you say, and you're surprised to find that you mean it. "You've said it now. Just remember - you don't need to hide so hard from me, okay?"
You shake her hands for emphasis and she sighs. You're so close to being perfect, the pair of you, together, and you wonder if that's what it was that stopped her before; knowing that this is it.
It's not often that you have to dip your own head to kiss her, your hair falling around your face as you do, and she whimpers when your lips meet.
"I fucking love you," you murmur against them, and she clutches your waist like she's amazed you're still there. "I love you," you say again and she pulls you in closer, sliding her hands up the back of your t-shirt.
You break away and arch into it and her mouth's suddenly on one of your nipples through your top and Oh God, yes because that's the tenderness you'd been missing.
But it also means you're wearing too many clothes so you take your hands away from where they'd been stroking the back of her neck and reach down to pull your top up and over your head.
"Fuck," she gasps when she sees you, and it hits you low in the gut at how much she wants you, still.
Her mouth's back on you, over your bra, and you're watching her intently as she moistens the material, all the while running her hands up and down your back until they settle on the clip and undo it quickly.
She pulls away, breathing heavily already, and licks her lips as she slides the straps down your arms.
You've done this countless times, and she's seen you naked more than anyone else (including your sister, probably) and yet you're still a little taken aback.
It's another chance, you think. Another chance to get this right.
You forget to think anything, though, once her lips are wrapped around your exposed nipple and she's licking and sucking so gently it's making your knees go weak.
"Oh fuck," you sigh, and feel her lips curve into a smile.
She's obviously got more of her wits about her than you do, because she's employing her hands to remove your skirt, and it's off quickly and you're stepping out of it as she keeps a tight hold on you.
"You," you say, decisively, and she pulls back with hooded eyes and you want to push her to the bed right then, but she's still wearing too many clothes, so you pull at her dress until it's bunched up in your hands and she's getting the message that it needs to be gone.
Once it's off you stand back up straight because you can only cope with one thing at a time, and she's pressing her face against your stomach as she unclips her own bra, and, once it's off, she leans up again so she's kissing your chest and you feel her breasts press against your stomach.
You knot your fingers in her hair and a deep sound emerges from your throat, one you couldn't make unless you were right here with her, with Naomi, and she's rolling your tights down your legs until you're stumbling out of them and she's laughing as she holds you upright.
"God," she grins as she runs her hands down the backs of your legs and up to your arse. "Please don't wear tights as often."
You laugh, and almost say something stupid like Well it hasn't mattered so much lately, but you can't because you're moving away from that now. So no tights it'll be as of tonight.
"Fine," you smile and pull her up until her she's close to your face and you can see right into her eyes, which are now dark, the pupil covering up most of the blue that you love.
But, you know, you love this colour too. It's the closest they come to matching your own.
You smile again as you lean back into her, and her mouth opens to let you in and you sigh as she ups her game and slides her tongue into your mouth.
You've waited too long already and you push her back, waiting for her legs to swivel around so you can lay completely on top of her.
"Oh," you gasp as her thigh finds it's usual place between yours and she pushes up once.
You take a moment to look at her though and lean back to watch as you trace your fingers over her eyebrows, smoothing out the frown that's still lurking underneath, and then let them wander down her neck and along her arm.
She's got her eyes closed, and she's just letting your feel her and, fucking hell, you could do this forever.
But there's something about her, something you almost can't place until you realise that her brow is furrowed and her eyes are staying closed: she's nervous. She's nervous and she's holding back and it makes you kick yourself because you know it's your fault.
But, wait, no. It's her fault. Isn't it?
You shake her head, flicking the thought away to somewhere else, somewhere back where it's supposed to be, like this morning, or last week, or last November.
It can stay back there, the blame. It's not welcome in your bed anymore.
And you smile again because you know what is welcome and you lean down close to her ear and whisper, "You've got me, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not unless it's with you."
Naomi relaxes beneath you and you take the opportunity to push your thigh against her, and it's warm there, and you can feel the slightest bit of wetness that makes you want more.
You roll to your side, breathing into her ear, waiting for her to turn her head towards you.
"Open your eyes," you say, and wait while she does. You can't help smiling and leaning in for a slow kiss before you pull back and say, looking right into her eyes, "I'm going to make love to you now."
Her breath comes out in a shudder and then she's kissing you again and nodding, and you've waited long enough so you slide your hand into her knickers and you both breathe in quickly through your noses.
"Christ," you say. "You feel..."
"Yeah," Naomi whispers, bucking gently into your hand. "Fuck, Ems."
You love the way she says your name, especially when it's followed by a lip-bite and a roll of her hips as you slip through her wetness, finding it hard to keep focussed on her clit.
Part of you wants to taste her, to bury your face in her and feel her everywhere, but more than that, more than any of that, you want to be right here when it happens. Right here, with your foreheads pressed together, watching her face as you make her yours again.
You kiss her again, mouth moving as slowly as your fingertips, giving her enough room to breath in the way she needs to.
And she's clinging onto you, one arm around your back, pushing you into her side, the other flat against the duvet, and you catch sight of her hand clutching it, her knuckles whitening through the strain.
"Relax," you say, because she just needs to. And she's trying, you know she is, but it feels almost like the first time again when she'd done the same to the blanket you were both lying on. Only you didn't know then what you know now - that she wants you more than anything.
And you sort of don't mean to, but it makes you increase your speed a little, rolling circles around her clit as she moans into your mouth.
"Fuck, Emily. Fuck that's good. I think... Ems, you're gonna make me come - I can't..."
"Yeah," you say, pulling back a little, waiting for that moment as you feel the muscles straining in your arm. "It's okay, I want you to. Come for me," you whisper against her lips as she reaches for a quick kiss.
And then she's stiffening and digging her nails into your back as you push down on either side of her clit a little harder, and then she's crying out in a high, broken wail that would have woken anyone else in the house if they'd heard.
But you're alone and this is your moment, just the two of you, and you want to savour it. And you can't take your eyes off of her, not that you would have done if you could, and she's so fucking beautiful shaking underneath you that you can't not tell her.
So you do, over and over again, as you help her ride out her orgasm.
She takes a while to come back down, and her hips are jerking as you slow to a stop, and she's panting as she shudders all over and you bring your hand out and lay it on top of her knickers.
"Fucking hell," she says when she can speak again, and by the time she looks around your smile is so broad that she returns it with a laugh.
"Mm," you hum, and nuzzle her neck and she kisses the top of your head.
"That was... fuck."
"Yeah," you agree, and kiss the bare skin that's in front of your lips.
And you lie like that for a moment, feeling more content than you reckon you've ever been, and it's ridiculously relaxing, the way she's running her fingertips up and down the length of your back.
"You know," she says, and you're drifting off a little and her voice is like a lullaby but you try to listen anyway. It's important, now more than ever, that you listen to each other. So she continues. "There was a time that I almost told you. You know, about how I feel about you. How I really feel."
"Oh?" you say, and you want to shift back so you can see her face, but you're getting the truth and it's all you've ever wanted from her, so you stay where you are and wait patiently for her to speak.
"Yeah. It was... it's really silly, but... You'd just made us both some tea, and you'd got up and gone to the kitchen, and I watched you walk away, fucking stumbling and bumping into the couch as you went," she laughs and you squeeze her around the waist and smile against her collarbone. "And I was thinking it, like tell her. Tell her how you've always fucking loved her, and how every time she comes back into the room it's like the first time she walked into that bloody Maths class and you looked up and she smiled at you before walking past and finding a seat."
She pauses then, sighing at the memory, leaning her cheek against your head.
"Every time you weren't in the room I wished you were in it. And that day, I knew you were only going to the fucking kitchen but inside... inside I was screaming for you to stay and I just wished I could have told you that I..."
Her voice breaks, and you're heart still can't handle hearing her cry, even after all the tears you've already forced out of her, and you know you need to stop it so you shift away from her arms, propping yourself up on and elbow and smiling down at her, watching as her eyes shine and try not to let the tears spill from them.
You put your hand to her cheek and she presses a kiss against your palm as you speak.
"Naomi... There have been times where I think I already knew. Like, you can be a bloody twat sometimes," you grin as she squints up at you and finally laughs with a sniff. "But, really, it was the way you looked at me. I knew what that look was because, really, it's been how I've been looking at your for the past six years too."
"Em," she says, holding your hand in place and closing her eyes. "Em, I'm so sorry, if I could take it back I -"
"Ssh," you say, and lean down to kiss her, her lips tight, the strain still clinging on. "You already have."
****
Part of you wants her to touch you like you touched her but you know you've got so much time for that. Everything's right again, and you tell her as much when she asks.
She looks a little disappointed but you can see how fucking tired she is, too, so you force the issue, promising to be right there with her when she wakes up.
You take your usual sides of the bed and the sheets are crisp and fresh around your aching limbs and cool against your flushed skin.
You're going to be there, every morning for as long as she'll have you, for the rest of forever if that's what it takes, and you let yourself be held from behind, her body arching around yours, fitting back into the mould she created when she stopped being a twat and let you spend the night.
And you smile again at how far you've come - how far you've all come, really - because even though it wasn't ideal, and some of it was the shittiest, most painful thing you could have gone through, you know you're better off for it now.
You got your happy ending, the girl you love in your bed, in your house, in your life that you share forever.
It makes you think, just before you're nodding off, about the rest of them.
"Naoms?" you say quietly, and you feel her smile against your shoulders as she hums an Mm? "Where do you think Freddie really is? Like... you reckon he's just fucked off?"
She sighs behind you, and links your fingers, laying them flat against your heart.
"I don't know, babe. He'd be a bit fucking stupid to try and leave, wouldn't he? I mean, look at what he's got. He'll be safe though, wherever he is. Because he's got people that love him. And they always find you, don't they?"
It settles you, then, and you think yeah. Yeah. If you and Naomi found each other, again and again, then the people who love Freddie will find him too. Even if he wants to hide for a bit, he'll be all right.
"Yeah, you're right."
You're quiet for a moment and you think she might have fallen asleep until you hear, "Don't let me get lost again, okay?"
Your heart expands in your chest, like you feel it's going to burst free, and you shake your head.
"No, I won't. Me too."
She nods and kisses your shoulder. "I promise."
And you believe her. You think you always will, from now on. Now that you're warm, back in her arms. Now that you're together.
****
You don't know what time it is, but something is waking you up and it's not pleasant.
"Fuck," Naomi jerks, almost dislodging your head from where it's now nestled in her shoulder, and you realise that it's a phone vibrating on the bedside table.
"That yours?"
"Yeah," she says, groggily. "Sorry. Just leave it and they'll fuck off."
"At least turn it off - it's really loud," you croak and she stretches towards it.
"Yeah, all right." She looks at the screen and you can see her brow scrunch up as the light catches it.
"What? What is it?"
"It's Cook. I might... I'll just see if he's okay."
"Course," you say, and kiss her shoulder.
"Won't be a min," she smiles, and squeezes you around the waist. "Hey, Cook," she smiles. "What's up?"
Pairing: Emily/Naomi
Word count: 6700
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set at the end of 408.
A/N: So, I wrote most of this ages ago, but I feel really shitty about not having another chapter of ATBB done so I thought I'd finish this up for now. Not as proofread as usual! So apologies for mistakes! And cheers to my usual pair of supporters/betas/friends. Oh, and title from a song by Incubus.
Don’t let the world bring you down // Not everyone here is that fucked up and cold // Remember why you came and why you’re alive // Experience the warmth before you grow old
The party starts again around you both, but you can barely feel it. All you know is that you’re tingling all over, like when you’ve let your feet get so cold they go numb and you step into the shower and you can’t feel the heat at first but then slowly, ever so slowly, it creeps back into your bones.
If you’re honest (which you’re trying to be again) you’ve felt it itching against your skin for weeks now, more so since you started sharing a bed again when you'd pretend you were asleep and stretch your leg out just so it grazed against hers. And it was fine until she noticed, and jerked away like she was scared, and then it was like the water had run cold and you'd have to get out from under it.
Now though, with her hair in your hands feeling softer than it’s ever been and her lips against your neck murmuring Sorry, I’m so sorry over and over, you’re letting yourself feel the warmth.
Only it doesn’t start at your toes this time - it’s higher up, much higher, and it’s pounding against your chest in a way you never thought it would again. And it’s flooding through you until your face remembers how to smile and you laugh.
She pulls back then, and looks down at you, and wipes a thumb across your cheek where you’re actually still crying and it makes her cry a little bit harder.
“Hey,” you say, gripping her tightly around the back of her neck. “We can stop doing that now.”
Then she laughs at you, and it’s kind of beautiful, you think (again, she’s beautiful, finally), and she nudges against your nose with her own. “I’ll stop if you stop.”
“Right,” you say, and you’re all croaky again, and you stand there with your foreheads pressed together until your sister gets impatient from somewhere to your right.
“Jesus, you two. You’re sorted, it’s fine - can we move the fuck on now, please?”
“Easy there, Katiekins - if they want to take some time to make up I’m not about to stop them.”
You hear an Oof! from Cook as Katie smacks him somewhere, and then she’s squealing and he’s laughing, but none of it matters.
You’ve got her back. And she’s got you. And you both really, really, need a fucking drink.
****
You all drink to Freddie, wherever the fuck he is, and try not to look at the nervous glances your sister’s shooting Effy and focus on the sound of Naomi’s laughter instead as she watches Cook choke on his smoke rings.
Her hand hasn’t left yours the whole time, and you really don’t want it to, even when someone hands you a spliff and you’ve got a drink so you just wedge it in between your thighs as you take a toke, waggle your eyebrows at her and she opens her mouth for you to exhale into.
And while you can’t be touching everywhere you think you’d like to be, you’ll settle for this for now because already it’s so much better than it has been.
It's almost a distant memory now, all those months in the wilderness, both of you struggling to find your way back into the light. You'd wonder, now, how it had gotten so dark but there's such a shine in her eyes that you can't bring yourself to dwell on it.
"Come on, let's have a dance," you say, almost reluctantly because you're cuddled in so closely together that the thought of breaking apart even for a second sounds painful, but it's worth it for the look on her face when she smiles again, all tears having dissipated, and pulls you both onto your feet.
Cook whoops at the pair of you as you stand, and pulls JJ up from the floor and holds him the way you're holding her, and it's funny again. It's fun. And you bump your hip into Cook's as he dances near you.
Your heart melts a little bit as you meet JJ's eyes and he produces a big, braces-clad grin and then spares one for Naomi who smiles back at him and clearly means it, probably for the first time ever.
It's like your family's back together again, though how you've all come to be friends you'll never quite know.
There's something about being in Freddie's place, who really, somehow, never quite fit even though he was the one with links to most of you.
Katie had gotten over him miraculously quickly, and looking at her now as she spins Effy round to applause from Panda, you realise just how much you fucking love her, too.
"Hey," Naomi says, and you figure that you must have gone quiet. "You all right, hon?"
"Yeah," you whisper, and lean up on your tiptoes into a kiss. Because you can, now. Freely. Probably more freely than ever before.
You don't even want to slap Cook for ruining the moment by announcing to everyone that he needs a slash, and you actually don't mind when he squeezes your hip and plants a prolonged kiss on Naomi's cheek, grinning at her toothily before slipping out through the door.
"God, he's fucking wasted," Naomi chuckles, shaking her head as she watches him go. "You want another drink?"
You're about to say yes when you look around and notice that everyone's oblivious to the fact that you're even there, just getting on with their own conversations, not worried for the first time in ages that you're about to rip each other's heads off.
And it's not like those times at school where Katie would steal all of the attention and you'd be left in the corner at a party by yourself, wishing that Naomi would turn up just so you could watch her scowl at you for even half a second.
And that thought means that you suddenly have a million questions that you need to ask, like right now, and you want nothing more than to be alone together so that you can ask them. About if maybe when you had been looking around for her she had been looking around for you at the same time.
Or like those times where you'd be sat near her at the pub and your arms would brush against each other and you'd feel heat spread throughout your body and your skin would prickle and your mouth would go dry. Those times, did she feel that way too?
"Actually," you say as you turn back to her, away from where JJ's playing slaps with Karen like they've done it for the last ten years or more, and away from Katie and Effy who are sharing a spliff even though Katie really doesn't look like she can handle it, and shake your head. "Actually no. I think I'd like to go home."
Naomi blinks, then, and is a second away from disappointment, so you save her from it quickly. "No, I mean, back to ours. If it is still that...?"
Her fingers release and tighten in your hand again, and you watch her shoulders drop as they relax.
Too tense, you think, and you get that it's going to take more than just one truth, even though it's far bigger than any of the lies she's ever told, to get you back on track. Back to where not only you trust her, but she trusts you, too.
"Fuck, Ems, yeah. Yeah, of course it is. It always has been."
You kiss her again, then, even though you know you've got so much time for it, but you feel like you're catching up. Like you can't possibly make up for all the time you've spent not kissing her, or at least not kissing her right.
You need to make a start, though, so you steal one more before resting back on your feet.
Naomi's adorable, you think as you watch her take a moment to open her eyes, and you realise how she's allowing herself to get lost in you. Just like you do in her, or you will once your brain stops racing so quickly to try and keep pace with how fast your heart is beating.
"Okay," you smile, and then turn to Katie.
"Katie, we're going to go, okay?"
"Huh?" Katie frowns at you, and Effy grins ridiculously beside her and then cups her hand over Katie's ear to whisper into it. "Oh my God, Eff. What the actual fuck is... Sorry. I mean... ugh. Fine, go. But, wait," she starts and staggers to her feet. And you notice the way that Effy watches her, and it's with such open affection that you wonder just what the fuck they've both been going through lately to make that happen and you resolve to ask your sister later.
"Listen, Ems," Katie lisps as she straightens out her dress. "You too, Naoms. Like... I just want you to know that... oh, fuck it." She startles the both of you, then, by pulling you both into a tight hug that leaves Naomi looking at you over the top of Katie's head, eyes wide and amused.
"Now, fuck off, yeah?" Katie sniffs. "And be careful. It's, like, dark now."
"Christ, Katie," Naomi pokes Katie's shoulder with her finger. "No more spliff for you, yeah?"
Katie looks like she's about to contest that ruling when her brow knits together and she says, "Yeah, that might be an idea. I've still got my key - is it all right to -"
"Course," Naomi says before you get the chance to, and you squeeze her hand a little tighter. "I've gotten used to washing with cold water so it'd be weird now if you weren't there to use up all the hot for me before I get up."
"Bitch," Katie smirks. And then, in your ear as she's hugging you by yourself, she tells you that she loves you in twin and you say it back, ignoring Naomi's questioning look when you pull away.
Katie goes back to Effy and immediately takes the spliff again, and you and Naomi both roll your eyes as you pick your bags up from the floor.
You say bye to the room, catching JJ saying, "Oh, and if you see Cook out there tell him he's been bloody ages. Bladder like a sieve, honestly."
"Will do," you shout as you close the door behind you both, and take a moment to breathe in the fresh air.
It's started raining at some point, and you know it's going to fuck with both of your curls (or waves, really, and you're glad that you dyed your hair over a week ago because it'd be running fucking everywhere by now) but you don't really care. There's only one thing that matters now, and she's rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand and your shiver is nothing to do with the temperature.
Cook's nowhere to be seen, and you shrug. You know he can't get far and everyone's already here so you don't know where else he'd go. (Everyone except Freddie, though, and you wonder for a moment if Cook's found him and run off to stop him getting on a plane or something like at the end of a shitty romcom.)
Naomi reassures you that Cook's only got one place to go and that he'd be home later. And it's comforting in a way, as Naomi lights two fags and passes one to you, knowing that at least two members of your family will be coming home tonight.
Or three, actually, counting Naomi. But then she's always been above the rest. She doesn't need to be quantified, to be lumped in with the others, even though they're special in their own way, and special to you.
Naomi's just more than everything. And you realise your brain's gone silly so you shake your head at yourself and lean it against Naomi's shoulder.
You walk like that the entire way home, all the questions you wanted to ask slipping away from you as you fall further into each other and take yet another step towards home.
****
When you get to the door, Naomi breaks free from you and reaches into her bag but, putting your hand on top of hers, you stop her.
"It's okay," you say softly. "Let me."
You pull your key from your own bag even though, earlier, you'd had no idea why you wanted to keep it. Why you just couldn't bear to let go of it. But now you know.
It wasn't the key you were holding on to. Obviously.
You let her in first, pushing the door open for her to step through, and you follow her in.
It's still a bit of a tip from where the police had destroyed it earlier. There hadn't been time, you realise, for her to clean up all her messes in one night. But you'll help her with this one later. After you've helped with the first.
"Sorry," she says, kicking someone's shoes out of the way. "I wasn't sure if you'd be... you know. Back."
"Don't worry," you whisper, and stare at the stairs. She follows your gaze, and you both still.
You're not ready, yet. It's going back to a new room, really. And right now you just...
"Tea?" she asks, and regains her grip around your fingers, and you sigh internally.
"Yeah, go on."
****
The kitchen's not much better, and you clear a space on the table as she flicks the kettle on.
You watch her, then, moving around the room. And it's grounding, seeing her do something so normal. She's not the most graceful of people, and her hair's a little damp and clinging to her face, but it's really fucking hard not to go to her, spin her around and kiss her up against the kitchen side.
But you wait, and you watch her fumble with the tea bags. For the first time since you took her in your arms and kissed away her tears you realise how nervous she is. And it hurts your heart, then, rather than caressing it pleasantly as it had a moment before, and you realise that you both did this.
You'd known she was hurting - fuck, it was in every breath she took - but you hadn't known anything, really.
"Hey," you say, your voice almost betraying you by breaking. "Hey, babe. Forget the tea. Come over here." You pull out the chair next to you so that she doesn't sit any further away and wait for her to slowly settle into it.
"What's up?" she asks, and it's so falsely casual that you almost feel sorry for her again. But you know you can't, now. It's never going to work if you fucking pity each other.
"Naomi." You take her hands in yours and you think back to that night when all she really needed you to do was hold her hand. You couldn't look at her face then because you knew that it just got really fucking real for her and it would have broken you a little to look into her eyes and see a reflection of yourself.
Now, though. Now you have to look. Because it's time for the truth. From both of you. Finally.
"Do you... fuck," you rub your temple, feeling suddenly tired. "Do you think we can do this?"
And you know it's the conversation she knew was coming. But she looks ready.
"No, I don't think so," she says, and your heart falls into your stomach like a brick, but then she squeezes your hands and you look back into her eyes as she nods firmly. "I know that we can. Because... well. Because, Emily, really, there's never been another option."
You let out a shuddery breath, and it's her turn to be strong again as you feel so close to breaking. But you hold it together, shuffling in closer so her knees are wedged inside of your own.
"And," she continues. "And I know that I don't deserve your trust, not yet. But I'll fucking work for it, every single day, if you'll let me."
There's no way you can stop from crying then, and she's tilting up your chin as you sob and saying, "I love you," in that broken soprano that you don't want to hear again but know you'll hear forever, and then she's leaning forward and kissing you and it's just... God, it's better than before because you're alone now.
And not just because you've left the shed; there are no ghosts here anymore. No traces of other lips kissed or hands held. It's just you. Again.
It makes you kiss her back harder, wrapping your fingers around her hair again and tugging on it like it's your lifeline. It keeps you tied to her, and tied to reality where you need to remain because this is so much better than any dream you've ever had.
There's no stopping you then, and she's pushing back just as hard, your lips fitting perfectly together, moving like it's as natural as saying I'm Emily Fitch and I'm a twin, or I'm Emily Fitch and I'm gay or, really, I'm Emily Fitch and I fucking love Naomi Campbell.
You slide your hands out of her hair and down to her face, holding her there, feeling how her jaw moves under your fingers and she's just so real that you're taken aback by it like you were the first time. And the second. And the third, and every other fucking time after that.
The burn's already started in your belly when she's pulling away, and you're a little dazed, but then she's biting her lip and you realise you've both stopped crying.
Her eyes are tracing over your face, trying to see it all at once, before they settle on yours and she swallows.
"Em, would you like to come to bed with me?"
You're nodding, smiling through your pursed lips, as the kettle clicks off and the steam hits the cupboard above and you think about how you always bloody tell her to move it from there because it'll make the wood expand and then the door won't shut properly.
It's easier to focus on that, though, than the fact that you're going up to your room. The one you share but hasn't really felt like yours for a long while.
She pushes the door open first and your eyes instantly fall to the bed. Your top's there in the middle of it, not exactly where you think you left it, and you reach for it at the same time Naomi does.
You both blush, and you remember the last time you wore it and your eyes go back to the duvet.
"Um, Naoms. I know it's fucking late but... can we change the sheets?"
She looks at you, puzzled, and then her face clears.
"Oh. Oh right, yeah." She shakes her head, biting her lip as she leans over the bed and pulls the duvet back.
Her hands are unsteady as she's doing it and then, Oh fuck, you think, and realise what you might have just suggested.
"Hey," you say, taking her hands in yours, and it breaks your heart all over again when she can't quite meet your eyes. "We didn't, okay?"
She's been holding her breath, and it comes out in a big sigh as she shudders and then laughs unsteadily as she exhales.
"Shit. I mean, I did think it for a bit. Earlier today. But then..." She trails off, and you kiss her hand and smile at her as everything relaxes again. You're seven degrees of sorry for even making her think that, and then you swallow down the memory that maybe, for a fleeting second at some point, that you'd wanted to.
(Of course, even if some part of you had it would never have been for the right reasons, and you know that you didn't hate yourself enough to ever want to do it sober.)
"We really didn't. I couldn't, okay?"
She nods and closes her eyes, and you stroke the back of her slender fingers with your own shorter ones and you feel inferior once again. You don't think it's right, completely, but you've been so high and mighty lately that's nice to be brought back down to Earth just be the brief comparison of your fingers.
Her eyes are tired when she opens them again and you wonder if it means that you'll just be sleeping once you climb into bed in fresh, crisp sheets that you washed last Tuesday and hung on the line and thought about ripping them up with scissors because you were still so so angry.
(You're not, now, and it almost makes you want to cry at the relief of it all.)
You hope she doesn't ask about it (the Mandy thing, and you shudder when you think about her trying to kiss you this morning), and you undo the buttons on the duvet cover together, slowly, like you used to do. Only then you'd had music, and you'd sang along together and hit her with a pillow when she said you sounded like Katie after too many shots of tequila and you'd ended up making love even before you'd put the next lot of sheets on.
But you don't need music now. The gentle hum of her breathing is all you want to hear. Only you want it closer, up against your ear, your neck, your chest, and it makes you work a little faster to get the job done.
You climb over to the other side (which has somehow become your side even though she's left-handed and you're right and it's just sort of impractical) as she flaps a sheet over to you and you make a hospital corner just like your mum had shown you when you were old enough to make your own bed.
(Of course, you'd made Katie's too, and it's nice that you've still got someone to look after, and Naomi's always a little more grateful than Katie is so it's always worth making the effort.)
The smirk is difficult to contain as you think about how you've proven your mother wrong again. You've made it through this, right through to the other side, and you don't hate Naomi anymore.
"What?" she says, and you look up at her to find her smiling.
"Nothing," you reply, and pull the duvet up to where it meets the pillows. "Just thinking about you."
You didn't think it was still possible to make her blush by saying something as simple as that but she does. And it's so endearing that you realise you're far too far away from her.
There are still the pillows to go and you almost can't be arsed but it's got to be done. It's got to be all clear and new and right.
You're thinking of your first time together, down by the lake where it had been bumpy on the ground and your knees had ended up bruised and your jaw had ached from where you had licked her clit and it had tasted like something you'd never imagined.
And she'd been so wet - Christ, so wet - in a way you hadn't expected.
You'd known then, how much she wanted you. You'd just never known that she'd wanted you for so long, nor how deep that want actually went.
"Naomi," you start as you shake a pillow into its case.
She looks up and smiles, and you almost forget what you were going to say, but you carry on when you find yourself again.
"You know what you said, in the shed. About how you'd always..."
"Loved you?" she says softly, and smoothes some hair away from her face. "Yeah?"
"Why didn't you ever tell me? I mean, I get it, sort of. But you know... fuck, sorry," you shake your head, and within seconds she's slowly crawling across the bed on her knees towards you.
"It's okay," she almost-whispers, reaching for your hands. "I think my explanation left a little to be desired. And was about two years overdue."
You laugh, because it's surely more than that, and she grins at you and rolls her eyes.
"Yeah all right," she concedes. "But, Em, you've always been better than me. At everything and I just... Shit, yeah. I should have told you."
"It doesn't matter," you say, and you're surprised to find that you mean it. "You've said it now. Just remember - you don't need to hide so hard from me, okay?"
You shake her hands for emphasis and she sighs. You're so close to being perfect, the pair of you, together, and you wonder if that's what it was that stopped her before; knowing that this is it.
It's not often that you have to dip your own head to kiss her, your hair falling around your face as you do, and she whimpers when your lips meet.
"I fucking love you," you murmur against them, and she clutches your waist like she's amazed you're still there. "I love you," you say again and she pulls you in closer, sliding her hands up the back of your t-shirt.
You break away and arch into it and her mouth's suddenly on one of your nipples through your top and Oh God, yes because that's the tenderness you'd been missing.
But it also means you're wearing too many clothes so you take your hands away from where they'd been stroking the back of her neck and reach down to pull your top up and over your head.
"Fuck," she gasps when she sees you, and it hits you low in the gut at how much she wants you, still.
Her mouth's back on you, over your bra, and you're watching her intently as she moistens the material, all the while running her hands up and down your back until they settle on the clip and undo it quickly.
She pulls away, breathing heavily already, and licks her lips as she slides the straps down your arms.
You've done this countless times, and she's seen you naked more than anyone else (including your sister, probably) and yet you're still a little taken aback.
It's another chance, you think. Another chance to get this right.
You forget to think anything, though, once her lips are wrapped around your exposed nipple and she's licking and sucking so gently it's making your knees go weak.
"Oh fuck," you sigh, and feel her lips curve into a smile.
She's obviously got more of her wits about her than you do, because she's employing her hands to remove your skirt, and it's off quickly and you're stepping out of it as she keeps a tight hold on you.
"You," you say, decisively, and she pulls back with hooded eyes and you want to push her to the bed right then, but she's still wearing too many clothes, so you pull at her dress until it's bunched up in your hands and she's getting the message that it needs to be gone.
Once it's off you stand back up straight because you can only cope with one thing at a time, and she's pressing her face against your stomach as she unclips her own bra, and, once it's off, she leans up again so she's kissing your chest and you feel her breasts press against your stomach.
You knot your fingers in her hair and a deep sound emerges from your throat, one you couldn't make unless you were right here with her, with Naomi, and she's rolling your tights down your legs until you're stumbling out of them and she's laughing as she holds you upright.
"God," she grins as she runs her hands down the backs of your legs and up to your arse. "Please don't wear tights as often."
You laugh, and almost say something stupid like Well it hasn't mattered so much lately, but you can't because you're moving away from that now. So no tights it'll be as of tonight.
"Fine," you smile and pull her up until her she's close to your face and you can see right into her eyes, which are now dark, the pupil covering up most of the blue that you love.
But, you know, you love this colour too. It's the closest they come to matching your own.
You smile again as you lean back into her, and her mouth opens to let you in and you sigh as she ups her game and slides her tongue into your mouth.
You've waited too long already and you push her back, waiting for her legs to swivel around so you can lay completely on top of her.
"Oh," you gasp as her thigh finds it's usual place between yours and she pushes up once.
You take a moment to look at her though and lean back to watch as you trace your fingers over her eyebrows, smoothing out the frown that's still lurking underneath, and then let them wander down her neck and along her arm.
She's got her eyes closed, and she's just letting your feel her and, fucking hell, you could do this forever.
But there's something about her, something you almost can't place until you realise that her brow is furrowed and her eyes are staying closed: she's nervous. She's nervous and she's holding back and it makes you kick yourself because you know it's your fault.
But, wait, no. It's her fault. Isn't it?
You shake her head, flicking the thought away to somewhere else, somewhere back where it's supposed to be, like this morning, or last week, or last November.
It can stay back there, the blame. It's not welcome in your bed anymore.
And you smile again because you know what is welcome and you lean down close to her ear and whisper, "You've got me, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Not unless it's with you."
Naomi relaxes beneath you and you take the opportunity to push your thigh against her, and it's warm there, and you can feel the slightest bit of wetness that makes you want more.
You roll to your side, breathing into her ear, waiting for her to turn her head towards you.
"Open your eyes," you say, and wait while she does. You can't help smiling and leaning in for a slow kiss before you pull back and say, looking right into her eyes, "I'm going to make love to you now."
Her breath comes out in a shudder and then she's kissing you again and nodding, and you've waited long enough so you slide your hand into her knickers and you both breathe in quickly through your noses.
"Christ," you say. "You feel..."
"Yeah," Naomi whispers, bucking gently into your hand. "Fuck, Ems."
You love the way she says your name, especially when it's followed by a lip-bite and a roll of her hips as you slip through her wetness, finding it hard to keep focussed on her clit.
Part of you wants to taste her, to bury your face in her and feel her everywhere, but more than that, more than any of that, you want to be right here when it happens. Right here, with your foreheads pressed together, watching her face as you make her yours again.
You kiss her again, mouth moving as slowly as your fingertips, giving her enough room to breath in the way she needs to.
And she's clinging onto you, one arm around your back, pushing you into her side, the other flat against the duvet, and you catch sight of her hand clutching it, her knuckles whitening through the strain.
"Relax," you say, because she just needs to. And she's trying, you know she is, but it feels almost like the first time again when she'd done the same to the blanket you were both lying on. Only you didn't know then what you know now - that she wants you more than anything.
And you sort of don't mean to, but it makes you increase your speed a little, rolling circles around her clit as she moans into your mouth.
"Fuck, Emily. Fuck that's good. I think... Ems, you're gonna make me come - I can't..."
"Yeah," you say, pulling back a little, waiting for that moment as you feel the muscles straining in your arm. "It's okay, I want you to. Come for me," you whisper against her lips as she reaches for a quick kiss.
And then she's stiffening and digging her nails into your back as you push down on either side of her clit a little harder, and then she's crying out in a high, broken wail that would have woken anyone else in the house if they'd heard.
But you're alone and this is your moment, just the two of you, and you want to savour it. And you can't take your eyes off of her, not that you would have done if you could, and she's so fucking beautiful shaking underneath you that you can't not tell her.
So you do, over and over again, as you help her ride out her orgasm.
She takes a while to come back down, and her hips are jerking as you slow to a stop, and she's panting as she shudders all over and you bring your hand out and lay it on top of her knickers.
"Fucking hell," she says when she can speak again, and by the time she looks around your smile is so broad that she returns it with a laugh.
"Mm," you hum, and nuzzle her neck and she kisses the top of your head.
"That was... fuck."
"Yeah," you agree, and kiss the bare skin that's in front of your lips.
And you lie like that for a moment, feeling more content than you reckon you've ever been, and it's ridiculously relaxing, the way she's running her fingertips up and down the length of your back.
"You know," she says, and you're drifting off a little and her voice is like a lullaby but you try to listen anyway. It's important, now more than ever, that you listen to each other. So she continues. "There was a time that I almost told you. You know, about how I feel about you. How I really feel."
"Oh?" you say, and you want to shift back so you can see her face, but you're getting the truth and it's all you've ever wanted from her, so you stay where you are and wait patiently for her to speak.
"Yeah. It was... it's really silly, but... You'd just made us both some tea, and you'd got up and gone to the kitchen, and I watched you walk away, fucking stumbling and bumping into the couch as you went," she laughs and you squeeze her around the waist and smile against her collarbone. "And I was thinking it, like tell her. Tell her how you've always fucking loved her, and how every time she comes back into the room it's like the first time she walked into that bloody Maths class and you looked up and she smiled at you before walking past and finding a seat."
She pauses then, sighing at the memory, leaning her cheek against your head.
"Every time you weren't in the room I wished you were in it. And that day, I knew you were only going to the fucking kitchen but inside... inside I was screaming for you to stay and I just wished I could have told you that I..."
Her voice breaks, and you're heart still can't handle hearing her cry, even after all the tears you've already forced out of her, and you know you need to stop it so you shift away from her arms, propping yourself up on and elbow and smiling down at her, watching as her eyes shine and try not to let the tears spill from them.
You put your hand to her cheek and she presses a kiss against your palm as you speak.
"Naomi... There have been times where I think I already knew. Like, you can be a bloody twat sometimes," you grin as she squints up at you and finally laughs with a sniff. "But, really, it was the way you looked at me. I knew what that look was because, really, it's been how I've been looking at your for the past six years too."
"Em," she says, holding your hand in place and closing her eyes. "Em, I'm so sorry, if I could take it back I -"
"Ssh," you say, and lean down to kiss her, her lips tight, the strain still clinging on. "You already have."
****
Part of you wants her to touch you like you touched her but you know you've got so much time for that. Everything's right again, and you tell her as much when she asks.
She looks a little disappointed but you can see how fucking tired she is, too, so you force the issue, promising to be right there with her when she wakes up.
You take your usual sides of the bed and the sheets are crisp and fresh around your aching limbs and cool against your flushed skin.
You're going to be there, every morning for as long as she'll have you, for the rest of forever if that's what it takes, and you let yourself be held from behind, her body arching around yours, fitting back into the mould she created when she stopped being a twat and let you spend the night.
And you smile again at how far you've come - how far you've all come, really - because even though it wasn't ideal, and some of it was the shittiest, most painful thing you could have gone through, you know you're better off for it now.
You got your happy ending, the girl you love in your bed, in your house, in your life that you share forever.
It makes you think, just before you're nodding off, about the rest of them.
"Naoms?" you say quietly, and you feel her smile against your shoulders as she hums an Mm? "Where do you think Freddie really is? Like... you reckon he's just fucked off?"
She sighs behind you, and links your fingers, laying them flat against your heart.
"I don't know, babe. He'd be a bit fucking stupid to try and leave, wouldn't he? I mean, look at what he's got. He'll be safe though, wherever he is. Because he's got people that love him. And they always find you, don't they?"
It settles you, then, and you think yeah. Yeah. If you and Naomi found each other, again and again, then the people who love Freddie will find him too. Even if he wants to hide for a bit, he'll be all right.
"Yeah, you're right."
You're quiet for a moment and you think she might have fallen asleep until you hear, "Don't let me get lost again, okay?"
Your heart expands in your chest, like you feel it's going to burst free, and you shake your head.
"No, I won't. Me too."
She nods and kisses your shoulder. "I promise."
And you believe her. You think you always will, from now on. Now that you're warm, back in her arms. Now that you're together.
****
You don't know what time it is, but something is waking you up and it's not pleasant.
"Fuck," Naomi jerks, almost dislodging your head from where it's now nestled in her shoulder, and you realise that it's a phone vibrating on the bedside table.
"That yours?"
"Yeah," she says, groggily. "Sorry. Just leave it and they'll fuck off."
"At least turn it off - it's really loud," you croak and she stretches towards it.
"Yeah, all right." She looks at the screen and you can see her brow scrunch up as the light catches it.
"What? What is it?"
"It's Cook. I might... I'll just see if he's okay."
"Course," you say, and kiss her shoulder.
"Won't be a min," she smiles, and squeezes you around the waist. "Hey, Cook," she smiles. "What's up?"