Slow Dancing in a Burning Room [Skins; Emily/Naomi]
Title: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Pairing: Emily/Naomi
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,731
Disclaimer: None of the Skins characters belong to me; I’m just borrowing them for a bit.
Summary: Post S4-Ep2 - A picture paints a thousand words, or so Emily’s heard...
AN: Thanks to the lovely flister who betaed this for me♥
AN 2: The idea was inspired from Emily and Naomi’s use of little notes to each other in S3/S4 and people’s post-it note messages that I found on the internet.
‘It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love we've been working on
Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms
Nobody's gonna come and save you
We pulled too many false alarms’
- John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.
A picture paints a thousand words, or so Emily’s heard.
And she thinks that perhaps it’s just one of those sayings that she’s never paid much attention to before because she doesn’t ever remember the lines and shapes and colours speaking to her as much as the ones in Sophia’s drawings did.
Or maybe it’s just that she paid more attention this time around because they involved Naomi and Emily’s always been far more in-tune and focused on all things Naomi Campbell than she probably should be.
It’s an attentiveness that comes back to bite Emily in the arse, because she’d known, or guessed at the least, that whatever it was that was going on and happening around them wasn’t right, that something was off and not adding up in the way that it should.
And of course it wasn’t right, not when Naomi was making them lie to the police and acting shifty around her, one minute loving and the next angry and defensive - a side to Naomi that she thought had started to disappear for good only to resurface whenever she pushed at Naomi a little too hard.
But none of that seemed to matter - none of it stopped her from feeling like she was falling when Matt had passed over the book that Sophia had kept hidden away in the box and she’d finally gotten to see for herself what it had all been about.
Emily doesn’t remember crying or what she’d said to Naomi. All she could remember as she walked home were Sophia’s drawings and how they seemed so much louder in her ears than Naomi’s desperate voice calling out after her.
-----
It still, always, catches Emily a little off guard by just how supportive her dad has turned out to be - where her mum had screamed and shouted and denied, her dad had hugged her and kissed her and told her that he still loved her.
And Emily takes comfort from that, from letting him wrap his big arms around her and cradle her against his chest like she’s still just his little girl. He holds her while she cries, while she says she hates Naomi - which she both does and doesn’t - and then he surprises her and tells her that she and Naomi aren’t the only ones to ever go through this.
It shocks her at first, to think that her dad, the big strong man who has always been kind and honest and truthful, had once felt just as scared as Naomi claims to be. And that her mum had once felt just as angry and hurt as she feels now.
Emily knows that it doesn’t make things right, it doesn’t excuse her dad or Naomi from what they’ve done but it does make her think that maybe love isn’t as simple as she thinks it should be. That maybe Naomi had been right (why couldn’t things ever be complicated?), and that maybe her dad was right - maybe people did act out when they were trying not to feel trapped.
They’re not justifications but Emily thinks that maybe, if she looks a little harder, that she might just see the hidden meanings beneath their surface.
-----
She walks to Naomi’s, her feet leading her automatically all the way as if they know nothing but how to be drawn towards her, and it only occurs to Emily when she’s standing in the playground opposite the house, that she doesn’t even know what she wants to say.
But somehow, even after all that she’s been through in the past few hours, it doesn’t seem to matter that she doesn’t have a plan because she’s never really had any of this mapped out. Naomi wasn’t something she had once decided upon, she was something that just happened to her, and Emily knows it’s a cheesy thing to say but she knows its fate that brought Naomi into her life - how could it possibly be anything else when she knew she loved her from the moment their eyes had first met?
Emily sees the note on the door long before she manages to force herself to walk up the small path to the house and she doesn’t know why her hands are shaking as she plucks it down and takes it in. Naomi’s handwriting across the top, a simple “I’ll do anything” written in a bold black marker followed by a drawing of a love heart with “be brave” written inside it and what Emily guesses is Naomi’s shoddy attempt at drawing the both of them either side of it.
Be brave, she thinks to herself and her fingers tighten involuntarily around the yellow cardboard, her nails digging in and leaving behind little half moons.
It seems like something out of another lifetime now, when she was the one asking Naomi to be brave, and Emily doesn’t know if it’s a little ironic or just plain cruel that somewhere along the way their roles got crossed so that Naomi became the one who needs to beg and she the one who wants to run away from it all and pretend that it doesn’t exist.
She closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying desperately just to fight her way through her messy thoughts and pull out something clear and logical. But then she feels it; her skin burns and Emily knows that when she opens her eyes and looks up she’ll see Naomi looking back down at her.
And maybe there are no logical thoughts in her head to be found, Emily thinks, as her eyes connect with blue - sad and longing and broken - because nothing about her and Naomi has ever been logical. They make sense in a way that really shouldn’t and fit perfectly even when it seems like they’ll never squeeze properly inside of their love.
Emily knows that this is the moment, the one that will alter them forever no matter what she chooses to do, and she resents Naomi for making the decision rest upon her again - it’s always her that has to decide for them and maybe that’s where they’ve been going wrong all along.
She thinks about being strong like her mum and she’s not, Emily will never be that kind of strong because while she loves her mum a part of Emily knows that she’s still bitter and cynical and hateful to a degree and Emily doesn’t want that, she doesn’t want to become the sort of person that forgives and promises to forget but always, always, holds onto it.
If they’re ever to get past this, Emily knows she’ll have to forgive and she’ll have to let it go fully otherwise she’ll be the one to destroy them in the end. But it’s not as easy as just forgiving Naomi and letting it go, Naomi needs to make her believe that they can, she needs to trust in Naomi and that they can do it and that they can work it out, together.
Emily’s aware that she’ll never know what could have been if she doesn’t at least try. She doesn’t want to hate Naomi because she actually rather fucking loves her, hopelessly, still, even through the haze of her unbearable pain and that’s why she doesn’t turn around and walk away from her, that’s why she walks back through the blue door and into the home she’d once thought belonged to them.
-----
They’ve never been good with words. The talking wasn’t something that came naturally to them and Emily’s not surprised that Naomi stays deadly silent as she emerges down the stairs and stops just a few feet away from her.
Only this time Naomi’s not the only one who doesn’t know what to say and so Emily just stands silently too, staring at Naomi and feeling her heart clench tightly in her chest with every second that passes between them.
“I’m so sorry Ems,” Naomi finally whispers, swallowing thickly and looking at Emily with tears in her eyes.
Emily nods just barely in response, feeling tears stinging at her own eyes and licks at her lips as she searches for her voice. “We can’t talk about it,” she says. “Not yet.”
Naomi looks like she wants to object, to blurt out all that she wants to explain, but she bites down on her lip instead and nods back sadly. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay,” Emily echoes, repeating it back just to reassure herself that they’ve both somehow agreed on it, and feels as a wave of relief passes through her that she won’t have to take on anymore, at least for today anyway - she’s already far too numb to find the energy to be angry, to scream and shout at Naomi for answers to questions she doesn’t really want to ask.
“I need to sleep,” she adds a second later, and it’s only when she raises an eyebrow warily that Naomi catches on to what she’s asking without actually asking.
Naomi’s eyes widen and she gestures awkwardly up the stairs. “Our room... you should sleep in our room.”
“But isn’t that-- Didn’t you--” Emily asks quietly, unable to say the full sentences as she looks away from her.
Naomi surprises her by taking a step closer to her and shaking her head frantically and says “No. Our room is still ours, Em.”
Only then does Emily finally burst into tears, her loud, wracking sobs getting tangled up and lost amongst Naomi’s own.
-----
They come to co-exist in an unspoken agreement of silence for the first week.
Emily wakes on the first morning to find the other half of the bed still perfectly made and she reaches a hand out to skim across the duvet, trying to see if her mind has just conjured the whole thing up in an evil nightmare as her hand searches for any signs of left behind warmth, but she knows it’s all been horribly real when the material is cool and crisp against her palm.
Naomi’s already up by the time Emily appears downstairs - already washed and dressed - and neither of them breathes a word as they sit and eat breakfast together in the stifling stillness that surrounds them.
They leave for college together but this time they don’t hold hands and stop along the way to kiss, they walk with a large gap between them and look down at the ground and Emily sees the way that Katie eyes them suspiciously from the college steps as they approach and knows that her sister sees more than just the distance between them.
Naomi must forget for a second though, because she reaches out and trails her hand down Emily’s arm as they go to part and Emily watches as Naomi’s eyes widen in shock and she snatches her hand back as if touching Emily has scorched her skin.
“Sorry, I didn’t think, I just...” Naomi tries to explain.
“No,” Emily says shaking her head and sounding a little harsher than she intended to. “You never do.”
Naomi’s breath hitches in response and Emily closes her eyes as she turns and walks away just to stop them both from breaking down in the middle of the corridor.
-----
She doesn’t see Naomi around college for the rest of the day and Emily almost feels guilty until she remembers that it’s not her that’s done this to them, it’s not her that’s put them in this position, and then she passes a poster of Sophia and it must spark something inside of her because before she can even think she’s ripping it down off the wall and crumbling it up in her hands.
There are only two boys in the corridor with her and even as they start laughing Emily’s already telling them to mind their own fucking business and die - she almost thinks Katie would be proud of her but then her sister hasn’t tried to find her today either so she can just fuck off too, uncaring cow.
The reason for Naomi’s absence becomes a little bit clearer as she walks up the road to the house - she sees the flames rising up from their garden and rushes through the house and out to the back just in time to see the last of the couch smothering and burning and falling apart beneath the fury of the hot, red flames.
Naomi’s staring at her through the smoke when Emily finally lifts her eyes and she knows then, that this is Naomi’s way of trying to talk to her, of trying to explain at least a little bit of it.
Emily lets herself look at it for a few seconds longer before she turns and heads back inside - it’s still far too much for her to handle.
-----
In the second week, when Naomi’s gone home to visit her mum, Emily takes her first daring venture into the living room.
She doesn’t touch, just looks around for signs - signs of where and what Sophia has touched and tainted, what of theirs Naomi has let be ruined. She doesn’t see anything though, of course she doesn’t, it wasn’t like Sophia was going to leave behind blood red marks wherever she had been but it doesn’t stop Emily from feeling any less repulsed by the thought of her being there, inside the house, inside their fucking house.
Emily’s almost out of the room entirely when she sees it, bright and orange, in the middle of the mirror. She approaches it slowly, her eyes taking in the small post-it note and the lines of the black marker pen, the doodle of flames and Naomi’s signature hand writing scrawled underneath: ‘I’d burn the whole room down to ashes if I could.’
It shouldn’t mean anything, another stupid little note with another meaningless message, only Emily knows it’s not meaningless, not really, not anymore - nothing Naomi ever did from now on would ever be meaningless to her.
-----
She wakes a few days later to find another post-it note tacked to the front of the bedroom door, it’s yellow again this time and Emily has to rub at her eyes before she even get her vision to adjust and sees the black writing standing out loud and stark off of the paper.
There’s no picture this time, just Naomi’s writing: ‘I wish I knew how to talk to you.’
Emily doesn’t notice she’s crying until she feels the tears rolling down her cheeks and she wipes gently at them before tracing her fingertips over the letters as if just imprinting Naomi’s words into her skin might help them.
-----
Naomi looks up at her sheepishly when she comes into the kitchen and Emily lowers her head and walks past her, flicking the kettle on wordlessly like she does every morning - like she’s done for the past nineteen days.
It’s only when she hears Naomi release a shaky breath that she turns back around to face her and asks, “Would you like a cup?”
Naomi looks shocked at first, as if she can’t quite believe that she’s hearing her voice, and Emily has to repeat the question again before Naomi replies, “Yes, please.”
Her hand is trembling when she accepts the cup from Emily and it’s only when Emily sees the regretful look still lingering heavily in Naomi’s tear filled eyes that Emily knows that they’ve been suffering in silence for far too long.
-----
They start talking a little more then, nothing complicated, just simple daily things, but it’s helping her in a weird way, just hearing Naomi’s voice and Emily realises that she’s missed hearing it, just listening to her speak because she likes the way Naomi’s voice sounds in her ears, heavenly and soft as if she’s the only one that truly hears her.
(Only Emily knows that that can’t be right because she didn’t hear Naomi panicking this time, she’d missed it and let that girl take it away from her, take Naomi away from her.)
And sometimes Emily catches Naomi looking at her for longer than she should and she knows that Naomi wants to open her mouth and say something more than the pointless chatter they’re surviving on but Emily always looks away before Naomi does - she doesn’t know if they’ll ever be able to talk about it. She isn’t sure it would help them. It can’t erase anything.
She sees them sometimes, Sophia’s drawings, when she closes her eyes and it always leaves her feeling sick with hurt, an unbearable pain that just will not seem to heal like she thought it would. And then she’s back to feeling numb when she should probably be angry.
Emily thinks it would be easier somehow, if she could just get angry. If she could lash out and scream at Naomi and slap her and shake her and ask her why the fuck she did it to her, but then she’ll catch Naomi’s eye and she’ll see the remorse and love written all over her face, openly and willingly, and Emily has to bite down of the inside of her cheek not to cry.
It’s all she’s ever wanted from her and it’s not fair that Naomi’s done this to them, that’s she’s tainted their love with mindless actions because Emily should hate her for it but she doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not anymore. She’s just sad instead, sad and broken and wanting desperately to go back in time to stop Naomi from being so scared of her - it breaks her heart a little bit more every time she realises that she can’t.
There’s nothing either of them can do now to undo it and Emily knows that it’s just a matter of them finding a way to live with it.
-----
It’s freezing cold when Emily wakes in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and she can’t stop herself from lingering in the bedroom doorway on her return and staring at the side of the bed still not slept in.
She thinks that she should probably be used to it by now, not seeing Naomi’s sleeping body snuggling into the warm space that she’s left behind, but she’s not - Emily doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to sleeping on her own again now that she knows what it feels like to wake up tangled in Naomi’s arms.
And that’s the only explanation she can come up with as she steps down the final few stairs and creeps into the living room to see Naomi asleep on the floor (the couch still hasn’t been replaced) with her body curled up awkwardly under the pathetically small spare blanket that isn’t really long enough to even cover her feet properly.
Emily thinks she must be crazy on some level for even considering doing what she’s about to do but it’s always been like second nature to her, a natural instinct that kicks in and forces her to push aside all of the mess that’s still between them and reach out until she’s brushing her fingertips across Naomi’s cheek and tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear as she watches blue eyes flutter open to stare back at her.
Naomi looks back at her in confusion as Emily pulls the blanket from around her and then holds out her hand in response to offering an explanation. Naomi stares at her for a long moment as if she’s unsure that Emily is really there in front of her before she slides her hand into Emily’s own and let’s her lead them silently up the stairs and into their bedroom.
Emily lets go of her hand as soon as they enter the room and climbs into her side of the bed, snuggling back under the duvet and turning on her side to see Naomi still hovering hesitantly in the doorway.
“Come on, get in. It’s freezing,” she says after a second, and pulls the other side of the duvet back so that Naomi gets the message to crawl into the spot next to her.
Naomi does as she’s told then, and within seconds, Emily feels the bed dip with Naomi’s weight as she lies down tentatively next to her, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. Blue eyes are suddenly staring back at her and boring deeply into her own and all Emily can do to stop from rolling away and crying at how much distance is still between them is to close her eyes and hope sleep finds her easily.
It doesn’t.
-----
It’s a little disorientating when Emily blinks her eyes open the next morning to see Naomi still sleeping peacefully next to her and she finds herself momentarily smiling at the sight of blonde hair sprayed out over the pillow and the whispering sound of Naomi’s breathing before she remembers that Naomi sleeping next to her again doesn’t really change anything.
And it’s much, much later - after Naomi’s woken up and left to go to some additional Saturday politics lesson - when Emily goes back up to the room to make the bed that she pulls the duvet back and sees another one of Naomi’s post-it note messages resting on the mattress: ‘Naomi slept here :)’
She knows it’s a throwback to the one she left in Naomi’s bed all those months ago and Emily can’t stop herself from wondering, if maybe this is Naomi’s way of trying to keep reaching out and slowly rebuild things between them.
-----
The last thing Emily remembers is spreading her coursework books out all over the kitchen table and studying for her English test. She doesn’t remember feeling tired or even falling asleep and maybe that’s why she’s surprised when she feels one of her arms being pulled and carefully wrapped around something and the pressure of something warm around her back and underneath the crook of her knees and then suddenly she’s aware of being lifted gently and swaying in motion as her body moves through the air.
She blinks her eyes open just enough to see the darkness and a flash of white that Emily knows is Naomi’s hair and then she’s closing them again and beginning to drift off to the feel of a heartbeat pounding away against her ear. She feels her body sink down into something spongy and consuming and something being pulled over her, tucking her in and keeping her snug.
It’s only then, when she feels something soft and gentle and warm ghosting across her forehead and hears the murmur of, “I miss you” that Emily forces her eyes open just in time to see Naomi turn to leave.
“Stay,” she croaks, her voice husky and dry from sleep.
Naomi’s eyes narrow apologetically in response as she turns back around to face her and Emily knows she’s shocked to have heard her voice when she says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Doesn’t matter, just...” Emily starts and rubs her hand against the space next to her. “Stay.”
Naomi nods and Emily watches as she takes off her jumper and jeans until she’s wearing nothing but her t-shirt and underwear and climbs into the bed next to her. Neither of them make a move to reach for each other and cuddle like they usually would, but Emily can feel the warmth of Naomi’s arm pressing just against her own as they lay on their backs beside each other.
Emily knows it’s not a lot, but as she lets her eyes slip closed again, she can’t help but think that this is the first time in a long time that she’s felt close and connected to Naomi again - it feels like a beginning.
-----
Naomi’s gone by the time she wakes and the only thing that stops Emily from feeling disappointed and betrayed all over again is the post-it note Naomi’s left on the pillow next to her: ‘You make me happy, whether you know it or not...’
-----
Emily starts letting Naomi sleep back in the bed with her again, back in their room where she belongs, and it almost feels nice except for the fact that they still don’t touch. Naomi doesn’t dare - Emily can see the fear in her eyes whenever she accidentally starts to drift off and her body naturally rolls more towards Emily, colliding with her just for a brief second before Naomi’s alert again and apologising with deeply sad eyes as she returns back to her side of the bed, putting the space back between them.
It’s always Naomi that seems to be reaching out for her in her sleep and maybe that’s what makes it so much more shocking that it’s Emily who wakes slowly one morning, blinking until her eyes have adjusted to the bright morning light only to realise that she’s snuggled up against Naomi, her face buried deeply in the crook of Naomi’s neck with Naomi gently running her fingers through her hair.
It’s nice, really nice, and maybe that’s why Emily pulls away from Naomi the moment their eyes meet as if being that close to Naomi has infected her with something horrible and disgusting. She sees the small, fragile smile that had been present on Naomi’s face fall and then Naomi’s untangling herself from the underneath the covers and padding silently out of the room.
Emily wishes she could call after her, wishes that she’d been a little better equipped for it because she’s still not sure how she’s supposed to deal with any of it, but then again she hadn’t known it was ever something that she would need to know to be prepared for.
-----
Her dad gives her the same half-smiling, half-pitying look that he always gives her whenever she goes home now and instead of asking her if everything is okay he just holds him arms open for her and Emily falls into them willingly.
“I don’t know how to make things better Dad,” she says against his chest a long moment later.
He kisses her on the top of the head in response and says, “I know, love. There isn’t a set way to fix these sorts of things.”
Emily closes her eyes and hugs him a little tighter, knowing that he’s right. There are no rules when it comes to forgiveness.
-----
She comes home to find a map of Mexico spread open over their bed with two post-it notes resting in the middle of it. In the middle of the first one Naomi’s written, ‘I love you...’ and in the second ‘Don’t give up on me <3’.
Emily reaches out and runs her fingertips along all of the routes they’d planned to travel and doesn’t stop her tears from falling down onto the map and soaking into the paper.
-----
She’s stood in the kitchen when Naomi gets home and before Naomi can open her mouth to greet her, Emily looks up at her and says, “I still love you.”
Naomi bursts into tears a second later; loud, ugly, honest tears that make Emily feel like her heart is healing with each one that Naomi cries.
Emily smiles and holds her hand out and reaches for her, murmurs, “Come here, Naoms.”
Naomi collapses into her arms a split second later and holds her tightly as she sobs, “I love you” over and over again into Emily’s ear.
And Emily knows then, that this is the moment where Naomi stops feeling trapped by her and finally, finally starts to feel freed instead.
Pairing: Emily/Naomi
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,731
Disclaimer: None of the Skins characters belong to me; I’m just borrowing them for a bit.
Summary: Post S4-Ep2 - A picture paints a thousand words, or so Emily’s heard...
AN: Thanks to the lovely flister who betaed this for me♥
AN 2: The idea was inspired from Emily and Naomi’s use of little notes to each other in S3/S4 and people’s post-it note messages that I found on the internet.
‘It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love we've been working on
Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms
Nobody's gonna come and save you
We pulled too many false alarms’
- John Mayer - Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.
A picture paints a thousand words, or so Emily’s heard.
And she thinks that perhaps it’s just one of those sayings that she’s never paid much attention to before because she doesn’t ever remember the lines and shapes and colours speaking to her as much as the ones in Sophia’s drawings did.
Or maybe it’s just that she paid more attention this time around because they involved Naomi and Emily’s always been far more in-tune and focused on all things Naomi Campbell than she probably should be.
It’s an attentiveness that comes back to bite Emily in the arse, because she’d known, or guessed at the least, that whatever it was that was going on and happening around them wasn’t right, that something was off and not adding up in the way that it should.
And of course it wasn’t right, not when Naomi was making them lie to the police and acting shifty around her, one minute loving and the next angry and defensive - a side to Naomi that she thought had started to disappear for good only to resurface whenever she pushed at Naomi a little too hard.
But none of that seemed to matter - none of it stopped her from feeling like she was falling when Matt had passed over the book that Sophia had kept hidden away in the box and she’d finally gotten to see for herself what it had all been about.
Emily doesn’t remember crying or what she’d said to Naomi. All she could remember as she walked home were Sophia’s drawings and how they seemed so much louder in her ears than Naomi’s desperate voice calling out after her.
-----
It still, always, catches Emily a little off guard by just how supportive her dad has turned out to be - where her mum had screamed and shouted and denied, her dad had hugged her and kissed her and told her that he still loved her.
And Emily takes comfort from that, from letting him wrap his big arms around her and cradle her against his chest like she’s still just his little girl. He holds her while she cries, while she says she hates Naomi - which she both does and doesn’t - and then he surprises her and tells her that she and Naomi aren’t the only ones to ever go through this.
It shocks her at first, to think that her dad, the big strong man who has always been kind and honest and truthful, had once felt just as scared as Naomi claims to be. And that her mum had once felt just as angry and hurt as she feels now.
Emily knows that it doesn’t make things right, it doesn’t excuse her dad or Naomi from what they’ve done but it does make her think that maybe love isn’t as simple as she thinks it should be. That maybe Naomi had been right (why couldn’t things ever be complicated?), and that maybe her dad was right - maybe people did act out when they were trying not to feel trapped.
They’re not justifications but Emily thinks that maybe, if she looks a little harder, that she might just see the hidden meanings beneath their surface.
-----
She walks to Naomi’s, her feet leading her automatically all the way as if they know nothing but how to be drawn towards her, and it only occurs to Emily when she’s standing in the playground opposite the house, that she doesn’t even know what she wants to say.
But somehow, even after all that she’s been through in the past few hours, it doesn’t seem to matter that she doesn’t have a plan because she’s never really had any of this mapped out. Naomi wasn’t something she had once decided upon, she was something that just happened to her, and Emily knows it’s a cheesy thing to say but she knows its fate that brought Naomi into her life - how could it possibly be anything else when she knew she loved her from the moment their eyes had first met?
Emily sees the note on the door long before she manages to force herself to walk up the small path to the house and she doesn’t know why her hands are shaking as she plucks it down and takes it in. Naomi’s handwriting across the top, a simple “I’ll do anything” written in a bold black marker followed by a drawing of a love heart with “be brave” written inside it and what Emily guesses is Naomi’s shoddy attempt at drawing the both of them either side of it.
Be brave, she thinks to herself and her fingers tighten involuntarily around the yellow cardboard, her nails digging in and leaving behind little half moons.
It seems like something out of another lifetime now, when she was the one asking Naomi to be brave, and Emily doesn’t know if it’s a little ironic or just plain cruel that somewhere along the way their roles got crossed so that Naomi became the one who needs to beg and she the one who wants to run away from it all and pretend that it doesn’t exist.
She closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying desperately just to fight her way through her messy thoughts and pull out something clear and logical. But then she feels it; her skin burns and Emily knows that when she opens her eyes and looks up she’ll see Naomi looking back down at her.
And maybe there are no logical thoughts in her head to be found, Emily thinks, as her eyes connect with blue - sad and longing and broken - because nothing about her and Naomi has ever been logical. They make sense in a way that really shouldn’t and fit perfectly even when it seems like they’ll never squeeze properly inside of their love.
Emily knows that this is the moment, the one that will alter them forever no matter what she chooses to do, and she resents Naomi for making the decision rest upon her again - it’s always her that has to decide for them and maybe that’s where they’ve been going wrong all along.
She thinks about being strong like her mum and she’s not, Emily will never be that kind of strong because while she loves her mum a part of Emily knows that she’s still bitter and cynical and hateful to a degree and Emily doesn’t want that, she doesn’t want to become the sort of person that forgives and promises to forget but always, always, holds onto it.
If they’re ever to get past this, Emily knows she’ll have to forgive and she’ll have to let it go fully otherwise she’ll be the one to destroy them in the end. But it’s not as easy as just forgiving Naomi and letting it go, Naomi needs to make her believe that they can, she needs to trust in Naomi and that they can do it and that they can work it out, together.
Emily’s aware that she’ll never know what could have been if she doesn’t at least try. She doesn’t want to hate Naomi because she actually rather fucking loves her, hopelessly, still, even through the haze of her unbearable pain and that’s why she doesn’t turn around and walk away from her, that’s why she walks back through the blue door and into the home she’d once thought belonged to them.
-----
They’ve never been good with words. The talking wasn’t something that came naturally to them and Emily’s not surprised that Naomi stays deadly silent as she emerges down the stairs and stops just a few feet away from her.
Only this time Naomi’s not the only one who doesn’t know what to say and so Emily just stands silently too, staring at Naomi and feeling her heart clench tightly in her chest with every second that passes between them.
“I’m so sorry Ems,” Naomi finally whispers, swallowing thickly and looking at Emily with tears in her eyes.
Emily nods just barely in response, feeling tears stinging at her own eyes and licks at her lips as she searches for her voice. “We can’t talk about it,” she says. “Not yet.”
Naomi looks like she wants to object, to blurt out all that she wants to explain, but she bites down on her lip instead and nods back sadly. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay,” Emily echoes, repeating it back just to reassure herself that they’ve both somehow agreed on it, and feels as a wave of relief passes through her that she won’t have to take on anymore, at least for today anyway - she’s already far too numb to find the energy to be angry, to scream and shout at Naomi for answers to questions she doesn’t really want to ask.
“I need to sleep,” she adds a second later, and it’s only when she raises an eyebrow warily that Naomi catches on to what she’s asking without actually asking.
Naomi’s eyes widen and she gestures awkwardly up the stairs. “Our room... you should sleep in our room.”
“But isn’t that-- Didn’t you--” Emily asks quietly, unable to say the full sentences as she looks away from her.
Naomi surprises her by taking a step closer to her and shaking her head frantically and says “No. Our room is still ours, Em.”
Only then does Emily finally burst into tears, her loud, wracking sobs getting tangled up and lost amongst Naomi’s own.
-----
They come to co-exist in an unspoken agreement of silence for the first week.
Emily wakes on the first morning to find the other half of the bed still perfectly made and she reaches a hand out to skim across the duvet, trying to see if her mind has just conjured the whole thing up in an evil nightmare as her hand searches for any signs of left behind warmth, but she knows it’s all been horribly real when the material is cool and crisp against her palm.
Naomi’s already up by the time Emily appears downstairs - already washed and dressed - and neither of them breathes a word as they sit and eat breakfast together in the stifling stillness that surrounds them.
They leave for college together but this time they don’t hold hands and stop along the way to kiss, they walk with a large gap between them and look down at the ground and Emily sees the way that Katie eyes them suspiciously from the college steps as they approach and knows that her sister sees more than just the distance between them.
Naomi must forget for a second though, because she reaches out and trails her hand down Emily’s arm as they go to part and Emily watches as Naomi’s eyes widen in shock and she snatches her hand back as if touching Emily has scorched her skin.
“Sorry, I didn’t think, I just...” Naomi tries to explain.
“No,” Emily says shaking her head and sounding a little harsher than she intended to. “You never do.”
Naomi’s breath hitches in response and Emily closes her eyes as she turns and walks away just to stop them both from breaking down in the middle of the corridor.
-----
She doesn’t see Naomi around college for the rest of the day and Emily almost feels guilty until she remembers that it’s not her that’s done this to them, it’s not her that’s put them in this position, and then she passes a poster of Sophia and it must spark something inside of her because before she can even think she’s ripping it down off the wall and crumbling it up in her hands.
There are only two boys in the corridor with her and even as they start laughing Emily’s already telling them to mind their own fucking business and die - she almost thinks Katie would be proud of her but then her sister hasn’t tried to find her today either so she can just fuck off too, uncaring cow.
The reason for Naomi’s absence becomes a little bit clearer as she walks up the road to the house - she sees the flames rising up from their garden and rushes through the house and out to the back just in time to see the last of the couch smothering and burning and falling apart beneath the fury of the hot, red flames.
Naomi’s staring at her through the smoke when Emily finally lifts her eyes and she knows then, that this is Naomi’s way of trying to talk to her, of trying to explain at least a little bit of it.
Emily lets herself look at it for a few seconds longer before she turns and heads back inside - it’s still far too much for her to handle.
-----
In the second week, when Naomi’s gone home to visit her mum, Emily takes her first daring venture into the living room.
She doesn’t touch, just looks around for signs - signs of where and what Sophia has touched and tainted, what of theirs Naomi has let be ruined. She doesn’t see anything though, of course she doesn’t, it wasn’t like Sophia was going to leave behind blood red marks wherever she had been but it doesn’t stop Emily from feeling any less repulsed by the thought of her being there, inside the house, inside their fucking house.
Emily’s almost out of the room entirely when she sees it, bright and orange, in the middle of the mirror. She approaches it slowly, her eyes taking in the small post-it note and the lines of the black marker pen, the doodle of flames and Naomi’s signature hand writing scrawled underneath: ‘I’d burn the whole room down to ashes if I could.’
It shouldn’t mean anything, another stupid little note with another meaningless message, only Emily knows it’s not meaningless, not really, not anymore - nothing Naomi ever did from now on would ever be meaningless to her.
-----
She wakes a few days later to find another post-it note tacked to the front of the bedroom door, it’s yellow again this time and Emily has to rub at her eyes before she even get her vision to adjust and sees the black writing standing out loud and stark off of the paper.
There’s no picture this time, just Naomi’s writing: ‘I wish I knew how to talk to you.’
Emily doesn’t notice she’s crying until she feels the tears rolling down her cheeks and she wipes gently at them before tracing her fingertips over the letters as if just imprinting Naomi’s words into her skin might help them.
-----
Naomi looks up at her sheepishly when she comes into the kitchen and Emily lowers her head and walks past her, flicking the kettle on wordlessly like she does every morning - like she’s done for the past nineteen days.
It’s only when she hears Naomi release a shaky breath that she turns back around to face her and asks, “Would you like a cup?”
Naomi looks shocked at first, as if she can’t quite believe that she’s hearing her voice, and Emily has to repeat the question again before Naomi replies, “Yes, please.”
Her hand is trembling when she accepts the cup from Emily and it’s only when Emily sees the regretful look still lingering heavily in Naomi’s tear filled eyes that Emily knows that they’ve been suffering in silence for far too long.
-----
They start talking a little more then, nothing complicated, just simple daily things, but it’s helping her in a weird way, just hearing Naomi’s voice and Emily realises that she’s missed hearing it, just listening to her speak because she likes the way Naomi’s voice sounds in her ears, heavenly and soft as if she’s the only one that truly hears her.
(Only Emily knows that that can’t be right because she didn’t hear Naomi panicking this time, she’d missed it and let that girl take it away from her, take Naomi away from her.)
And sometimes Emily catches Naomi looking at her for longer than she should and she knows that Naomi wants to open her mouth and say something more than the pointless chatter they’re surviving on but Emily always looks away before Naomi does - she doesn’t know if they’ll ever be able to talk about it. She isn’t sure it would help them. It can’t erase anything.
She sees them sometimes, Sophia’s drawings, when she closes her eyes and it always leaves her feeling sick with hurt, an unbearable pain that just will not seem to heal like she thought it would. And then she’s back to feeling numb when she should probably be angry.
Emily thinks it would be easier somehow, if she could just get angry. If she could lash out and scream at Naomi and slap her and shake her and ask her why the fuck she did it to her, but then she’ll catch Naomi’s eye and she’ll see the remorse and love written all over her face, openly and willingly, and Emily has to bite down of the inside of her cheek not to cry.
It’s all she’s ever wanted from her and it’s not fair that Naomi’s done this to them, that’s she’s tainted their love with mindless actions because Emily should hate her for it but she doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not anymore. She’s just sad instead, sad and broken and wanting desperately to go back in time to stop Naomi from being so scared of her - it breaks her heart a little bit more every time she realises that she can’t.
There’s nothing either of them can do now to undo it and Emily knows that it’s just a matter of them finding a way to live with it.
-----
It’s freezing cold when Emily wakes in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and she can’t stop herself from lingering in the bedroom doorway on her return and staring at the side of the bed still not slept in.
She thinks that she should probably be used to it by now, not seeing Naomi’s sleeping body snuggling into the warm space that she’s left behind, but she’s not - Emily doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to sleeping on her own again now that she knows what it feels like to wake up tangled in Naomi’s arms.
And that’s the only explanation she can come up with as she steps down the final few stairs and creeps into the living room to see Naomi asleep on the floor (the couch still hasn’t been replaced) with her body curled up awkwardly under the pathetically small spare blanket that isn’t really long enough to even cover her feet properly.
Emily thinks she must be crazy on some level for even considering doing what she’s about to do but it’s always been like second nature to her, a natural instinct that kicks in and forces her to push aside all of the mess that’s still between them and reach out until she’s brushing her fingertips across Naomi’s cheek and tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear as she watches blue eyes flutter open to stare back at her.
Naomi looks back at her in confusion as Emily pulls the blanket from around her and then holds out her hand in response to offering an explanation. Naomi stares at her for a long moment as if she’s unsure that Emily is really there in front of her before she slides her hand into Emily’s own and let’s her lead them silently up the stairs and into their bedroom.
Emily lets go of her hand as soon as they enter the room and climbs into her side of the bed, snuggling back under the duvet and turning on her side to see Naomi still hovering hesitantly in the doorway.
“Come on, get in. It’s freezing,” she says after a second, and pulls the other side of the duvet back so that Naomi gets the message to crawl into the spot next to her.
Naomi does as she’s told then, and within seconds, Emily feels the bed dip with Naomi’s weight as she lies down tentatively next to her, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. Blue eyes are suddenly staring back at her and boring deeply into her own and all Emily can do to stop from rolling away and crying at how much distance is still between them is to close her eyes and hope sleep finds her easily.
It doesn’t.
-----
It’s a little disorientating when Emily blinks her eyes open the next morning to see Naomi still sleeping peacefully next to her and she finds herself momentarily smiling at the sight of blonde hair sprayed out over the pillow and the whispering sound of Naomi’s breathing before she remembers that Naomi sleeping next to her again doesn’t really change anything.
And it’s much, much later - after Naomi’s woken up and left to go to some additional Saturday politics lesson - when Emily goes back up to the room to make the bed that she pulls the duvet back and sees another one of Naomi’s post-it note messages resting on the mattress: ‘Naomi slept here :)’
She knows it’s a throwback to the one she left in Naomi’s bed all those months ago and Emily can’t stop herself from wondering, if maybe this is Naomi’s way of trying to keep reaching out and slowly rebuild things between them.
-----
The last thing Emily remembers is spreading her coursework books out all over the kitchen table and studying for her English test. She doesn’t remember feeling tired or even falling asleep and maybe that’s why she’s surprised when she feels one of her arms being pulled and carefully wrapped around something and the pressure of something warm around her back and underneath the crook of her knees and then suddenly she’s aware of being lifted gently and swaying in motion as her body moves through the air.
She blinks her eyes open just enough to see the darkness and a flash of white that Emily knows is Naomi’s hair and then she’s closing them again and beginning to drift off to the feel of a heartbeat pounding away against her ear. She feels her body sink down into something spongy and consuming and something being pulled over her, tucking her in and keeping her snug.
It’s only then, when she feels something soft and gentle and warm ghosting across her forehead and hears the murmur of, “I miss you” that Emily forces her eyes open just in time to see Naomi turn to leave.
“Stay,” she croaks, her voice husky and dry from sleep.
Naomi’s eyes narrow apologetically in response as she turns back around to face her and Emily knows she’s shocked to have heard her voice when she says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Doesn’t matter, just...” Emily starts and rubs her hand against the space next to her. “Stay.”
Naomi nods and Emily watches as she takes off her jumper and jeans until she’s wearing nothing but her t-shirt and underwear and climbs into the bed next to her. Neither of them make a move to reach for each other and cuddle like they usually would, but Emily can feel the warmth of Naomi’s arm pressing just against her own as they lay on their backs beside each other.
Emily knows it’s not a lot, but as she lets her eyes slip closed again, she can’t help but think that this is the first time in a long time that she’s felt close and connected to Naomi again - it feels like a beginning.
-----
Naomi’s gone by the time she wakes and the only thing that stops Emily from feeling disappointed and betrayed all over again is the post-it note Naomi’s left on the pillow next to her: ‘You make me happy, whether you know it or not...’
-----
Emily starts letting Naomi sleep back in the bed with her again, back in their room where she belongs, and it almost feels nice except for the fact that they still don’t touch. Naomi doesn’t dare - Emily can see the fear in her eyes whenever she accidentally starts to drift off and her body naturally rolls more towards Emily, colliding with her just for a brief second before Naomi’s alert again and apologising with deeply sad eyes as she returns back to her side of the bed, putting the space back between them.
It’s always Naomi that seems to be reaching out for her in her sleep and maybe that’s what makes it so much more shocking that it’s Emily who wakes slowly one morning, blinking until her eyes have adjusted to the bright morning light only to realise that she’s snuggled up against Naomi, her face buried deeply in the crook of Naomi’s neck with Naomi gently running her fingers through her hair.
It’s nice, really nice, and maybe that’s why Emily pulls away from Naomi the moment their eyes meet as if being that close to Naomi has infected her with something horrible and disgusting. She sees the small, fragile smile that had been present on Naomi’s face fall and then Naomi’s untangling herself from the underneath the covers and padding silently out of the room.
Emily wishes she could call after her, wishes that she’d been a little better equipped for it because she’s still not sure how she’s supposed to deal with any of it, but then again she hadn’t known it was ever something that she would need to know to be prepared for.
-----
Her dad gives her the same half-smiling, half-pitying look that he always gives her whenever she goes home now and instead of asking her if everything is okay he just holds him arms open for her and Emily falls into them willingly.
“I don’t know how to make things better Dad,” she says against his chest a long moment later.
He kisses her on the top of the head in response and says, “I know, love. There isn’t a set way to fix these sorts of things.”
Emily closes her eyes and hugs him a little tighter, knowing that he’s right. There are no rules when it comes to forgiveness.
-----
She comes home to find a map of Mexico spread open over their bed with two post-it notes resting in the middle of it. In the middle of the first one Naomi’s written, ‘I love you...’ and in the second ‘Don’t give up on me <3’.
Emily reaches out and runs her fingertips along all of the routes they’d planned to travel and doesn’t stop her tears from falling down onto the map and soaking into the paper.
-----
She’s stood in the kitchen when Naomi gets home and before Naomi can open her mouth to greet her, Emily looks up at her and says, “I still love you.”
Naomi bursts into tears a second later; loud, ugly, honest tears that make Emily feel like her heart is healing with each one that Naomi cries.
Emily smiles and holds her hand out and reaches for her, murmurs, “Come here, Naoms.”
Naomi collapses into her arms a split second later and holds her tightly as she sobs, “I love you” over and over again into Emily’s ear.
And Emily knows then, that this is the moment where Naomi stops feeling trapped by her and finally, finally starts to feel freed instead.