#vaeile

❝ slight change of plans. i met someone tonight. ❞　　✉　　@vaeile.

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞” 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬   →   accepting.

@vaeile : ❝ don’t you have somewhere else to be? ❞

head moved in a slow nod of acknowledgement at emily's question, not surprised that it had come her way. "i know you have your own way of doing things here." it was never easy, stepping into another unit of the bureau without much information, not knowing the ins-and-outs of how the team worked with one another. but ultimately, she wasn't the enemy. "and i want to help you. it's what i'm here for." she reiterated, though the feeling of being an outsider wasn't one she thought that she would be able to shift, at least for the moment. "i'm not the enemy, prentiss. i'm just as fit to be here as the rest of the team, so use me. tell me where i'm going to be the most value. how to fit in the bau."

look at the mess she's caused, a state of ruins close to wreckage. her gut twists and pulls as the guilt builds, builds, builds till it's made a home inside of her. isn't it cosy in the depths of despair? in the confined spaces of a perfect life she's not quite ready to let go of? emily's words repeating inside her mind. you're nothing more than his wife.　(isn't that what she'll always be? nothing more than a wife, all for the sake of some silly perfect life)

everything is fine, i guess we could pretend.　　✉　　@vaeile.

“ you sound as believable as henry does when he tries to get out of eating broccoli. ”　scoffing, eyes rolling as she shakes her head. she thought she knew emily better than this – with all the history shared between them; with how long they've known one another, with how important she'd always be. and yet, jennifer has never felt further from another. as though she never knew the gray haired woman when her hair was darker, when eyes shined, less crinkles formed round them. it sits uncomfortably inside of her, rattling bones and twisting her organs. something was different, something wasn't right; jennifer couldn't pinpoint what that was.　“ everything is not fine, emily. come on! i feel like i don't even know you anymore. ”　she doesn't mean for her voice to crack, a lump forming in her throat as she quickly swallows it, blinking back what forms in her eyes as arms come to fold across her chest to steady herself.　“ when did everything change? when did you stop caring about me? ”

“ so, this whole entire time... it was all a game to you? ”　it comes out strangled, a lump caught in her throat that she can't quite let out; fearing for what may spill and embarrass her completely.　“ i guess i deserve that. ”

isn't that the way it always goes? how her entire life has always been? now or never – always too early, or too late. never anything in between. now here she stood, mangled organ held between her palms, nobody else but herself to blame for the wreckage now laid out before her. it felt like a cruel joke, one she could've easily avoided had she faced the truth sooner and not made emily wait. had she been selfish? this pain was bone achingly numb – made her want to claw away at her insides and remove this wretched, raw feeling.

“ you lived with this feeling for years. i guess it's my turn. ”　she ought to laugh at the irony.　“ before you... i don't want you to hear it from anybody else. ”　chest lifting, eyes full of despair as she looks to the woman across from her before letting out a sigh, closing her eyes as she pinches the bridge between her nose. just rip the bandaid off, jj.　“ will and i... we're getting a divorce. ”　maybe that would've been easier than confessing to emily, maybe she could've continued living in ignorance pretending she felt nothing for the other woman. maybe, maybe, maybe.　“ thought you at least deserved hearing it from me. ”

despite the darkness having swallowed them completely, the close proximity made it easy for jennifer to map out the structure of emily's face; from the curve of her jaw up to the tip of her nose, to soft eyes that have her happily wanting to drown in them, the edges of her own lips twitching. she can't help but lift a hand from confinements, poking out from the blanket as the cool air hits her, fingers coming to find emily's jaw as nails lightly drag up the curve of her face before bumping into fallen strands she carefully tucks behind emily's ear. she's thankful they're in darkness, the only source of light a fickle glow coming from the gap in the door as the light from the hall bleeds over the wooden floor.

it's different – having emily here. it felt too right, a completeness she hadn't known was needed. even more when she found herself laying beside her, warmth radiating between them, an inch keeping them apart – enough for their breaths to mingle. her thumb swipes across emily's cheek, refraining from letting her hand glide to her mouth and outline emily's lips with her index finger.

❝ i'm too scared to say half of the things i do when i picture you. ❞　　　　　　✉　　　@vaeile

she'd be lying if she said emily's voice breaking the silence didn't startle her, pulling her from the depths of her imagination as it catches in her throat, causing her pulse to stutter as her hand lifts and lays itself against the side of emily's head, fingers disappearing into dark strands as she swallows the heaviness in her throat.　“ i know the feeling. ”　quietly spoken between them, barely said above a whisper as jennifer inches to the edge of her pillow, her own nose bumping emily's. it might be the most honest she's ever been, instead of pleading ignorance. it'd be hypocritical of her to tell the other she shouldn't be afraid to say what she wants – not when jennifer couldn't either.　“ when i picture you the whole world fades away. ”　her chest lifts, fingers dragging down strands of hair before her hand falls to emily's shoulder, her palm lightly squeezing before retracting and sliding beneath her own pillow.