#bgm.excerpt

[greenbriar-j]

Emerson calls me late one night. I pick up within the first five seconds her name flashes across my phone. “Hi.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

I blink.

“Are you there? Or did you just pick up the call and walk away?” Emerson asks abrasively.

“You told me not to talk to you.” I raise my eyebrows, though she won’t see it to respond to it.

“I have a serious question.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If there are parallel universes and you got lost in them, would you travel every single one to find me again?”

I swallow. With all the crazy things Emerson has unleashed on me in the past few months, I can almost imagine this being a valid question requiring a serious answer. That’s the crazy part about it. “Uh…”

“I exist in every world, by the way. Would you be able to tell which one was the real me?”

“Babe-“

Emerson whisper-screeches into her phone, a dramatic sound like a dying pterodactyl. “That was the cutest fucking ending to a very tense drama. Love, I’m having so many emotions, and I don’t know what to do with them. Please send help.”

So it was a drama and not a life scenario. “Are you okay?”

“I just said to send help; does it sound like I’m okay?”

“Babe.”

“I’m feral, Finley. Abso-fucking-lutely feral.”

“Yo, calm down,” I laugh. “I was really worried for a second there.”

“That’s why I called you. I physically cannot calm down. There are way too many things buzzing around my head for me to possibly calm down. I finished writing your thing, by the way, if you want to pick it up soon.”

I glance at Emerson’s journal, that different colored mirror to my own. “I haven’t even started mine.”

“Send me a picture of this week’s agenda? I think I remember everything, but I want to make sure.”

“Will do. I gotta go. Are you going to be okay, Ms. Feral Child?” I clamp the phone between my shoulder and my face, flipping Emerson’s journal to the page for this week. To be honest, I haven’t written anything for her yet because I know how sacred this journal is for her. Everything she could never bring herself to say to another person – including myself – scribbled out in multicolor ink.

There’s no way I can open this and write in it so easily.

“No. I have so many things due in the next week and a half, I think I’m going to explode.”

“That’d be bad.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

[greenbriar-j]

(their first kiss under the cut; yes this is bribery)

A tug on my sleeve nearly sends another round of annoyed, panicked sparks through me. I force a deep, trembling breath through my lungs.

“Finley,” Emerson says, and I almost loose another string of lightning. “Take off your sweater.”

I lean down, pressing my forehead into the crook of her neck. “I’m so tired,” I whisper. Her arms wrap around me. One hand parses through my hair, and I have to remind her, “I’ll electrocute you if you make me too nervous.” 

Her lips press into my hair - I think. “Your sweater,” Emerson repeats gently. “Take it off.”

I’m still processing the words when Max sputters through my earpiece. I’d forgotten he was there. “Are you being hit on right now, Finn?” I turn the earpiece off. This moment is not for him.

“Why? Do you want to wear it?”

Emerson pushes me gently. It’s not enough to move me, but enough to indicate that she wants me to. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Julian will handle the parasite you refused to create a name for. This will take me maybe two minutes.”

“The what?” My sweater falls to floor between us. She grimaces at the blood stain across my chest. 

“You’re not wearing the bracelet?” Indifferently, Emerson removes the shrapnel embedded in my chest. She might as well have killed me on the spot. I sputter and hiss in pain, wanting to say something but unsure what.

“I’m going to bleed to death,” I announce conversationally once I find my voice again. “Thanks to someone.” 

She tips her head, hastily forming a low ponytail. “You have no faith,” she gestures me toward her again. “Give me your hand.”

I do. She slides a bracelet onto my wrist, not unlike the one I stole from Aiden last time we met.

Then my chest starts to burn like fire. Shocked, I meet Emerson’s eyes. My eyes must be the size of the full moon.

She meets my eyes boldly. “If you need a distraction,” she says cooly, “I can kiss you until it’s over.”

My throat goes dry. “What did I say about electrocution?”

“You can watch Julian, then. Unless you have the hots for him too?”

“No.”

Emerson hums. “Why not? He’s attractive.”

“Are we really talking about this right now?”

I manage to catch the hint of a smile on her face before her lips are on mine. A chaste kiss. An easy one, just the faintest touch of her lips to mine. 

Dumbfounded, I stare at her again. How am I always such an idiot around her? Is it too much to ask to want to look cool for once?

In an attempt at it, I clear my throat and look away. I touch my lips with the fingers of my left hand, just as gently as her lips had. When I look back at her, I ask, “That’s it?” 

Ignoring the way my voice cracks, Emerson beams. “We’re in public. Save that for another time.”

[greenbriar-j]

Dear Finley,

You are going to be the death of me. I don’t really know how to write up this missive you want from me, so I’m just going to ramble until I get a wrist cramp. I’m sure you’re okay with that. (Btw, what do you think of this purple ink? Mom always says it reminds her of her student days back in Vietnam, but I just think it’s neat. This is totally beside the point, but I wanted to share, so deal with it.)

Uh… First of all, thanks for always fighting for me, I guess? I’m not going to get self-deprecating in this; I’ve done enough of that lately. I think it’s awesome that you’re so dedicated to your cause. If I can, I’ll try to match you in that aspect – you know, unwaveringly loving you and all that.

Btw, is it too early for us to say the L-word? We’ve known each other for, what? Less than a year? Less than half a year? Is that too fast? Hm, okay, I thought about it, and honestly, life is so full of other stupid rules that I don’t want to enforce one on how I choose to express my affections for you. I’m actually not sure if I tell you too much or not enough, but you really are important to me.

Aiden and Akira just mentioned something that reminded me of something. My love language is acts of service. Which means the shit that really gets me in my feels is stuff you already do on the regular. That’s no surprise, is it? I wouldn’t have fallen for you otherwise.

Keep buying me coffees and walking me home from the library. Keep remembering stupid things I say, even once I’ve forgotten I ever said them. Just these kinds of things. It’s probably too late to ask this of you, but once you know what your love language is, just let me know. We can sync it up that way.

Some time very soon, we’re going to have to talk about all this demon and non-demon stuff. There are things I think I remember and things I’m not sure I remember. Mr. Atherton is getting more suspicious by the day, but I can’t just walk up to him and ask if he’s hiding something from me. I’m not even sure if I’m accurately gauging this. He might just vibe differently now that everyone’s left his home. I don’t know. Maybe he got a girlfriend?? Thinking about it makes my head hurt, but then again, when doesn’t my head hurt?

Also, the sooner you tell me exactly what deal you hashed out with Cha Jong Suk, the more at ease I’ll be. I’ll do my best not to stop you, whatever you decide to do in the end. That’s your decision, though I will tell you exactly how stupid I think you’re being. That much, I won’t deprive myself of.

I don’t think I’m answering your question at all, am I? Of this entire thing, I spent maybe two sentences answering your question. My bad. You’re going to have to live with it.

We’re not going to make it very far without hurting each other. That’s just part of the human condition. A lot of the time, I will apologize when I don’t need to - and when I do need to, I won’t. This isn’t me trying to be scornful and petty and rude. It’s just a thing I’ve noticed that I do.

I’ve decided something else, too. I’ve had a long time of measuring steps to keep in time with Fate. But if everything is Fate… You know what I’m getting at.

It’s the moments that make give meaning to the whole and not the other way around. The concept of eternal nothing still scares the living fuck out of me, but am I really going to let It paralyze me forever? (I talk big game, but we both know I’m a wimp.)

I’ve left this page open for an hour without writing anything. I think that’s a sign to stop. I’ll see you around.

Much love,

Emerson C.

[greenbriar-j]

it’s angst time in the club <3

I smile when I see Finley coming back to me. Even in as bleak a place as the hospital, something about the way his curls bounce with each step brings a small comfort to me. He’s still wearing that highly attractive black button down, though he’s buttoned up to the neck now. For a moment, I allow myself to fangirl over this fine specimen of a man.

“Babe-“ The smile falls off my face when I see the absence of his. I know he was talking to Julian. I know Julian is not always a pleasant person to talk to.

His large frame eclipses me, both arms thrown over my shoulders. With his full weight on me, I stumble. “I’m holding a soda! What’s up with you?”

A low, husky voice breezes into me. “Can I kiss you?” The syllables come out too tight, too choked.

“What’s wrong?”

I feel more than see him shake his head.

One hand tugs at the ends of my hair, the other tucking a strand behind my ear. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens as he looks at me. Then he leans in. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

His kiss feels like fire. Like the lightning in his veins. It’s terrifying, it’s exhilarating, it’s a foreign language I still haven’t mastered. It’s not the kind of kiss I expect to receive in a hospital waiting room, but I let it happen, Finley pushing into me with almost bruising force.

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[greenbriar-j]

Finley’s “oh.” moment

“Garbage?” I ask as blandly as possible.

My girlfriend fidgets, worming away from me to prance back into my room. “Everyone throws me away. Something like that.”

Something in me crackles, and I have to look at my hands just to be sure I’m not about to start an issue I can’t solve. “So whose ass do I need to kick?”

She snorts. “If I tell you that, you’re the one whose ass is getting kicked. Look, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now. You’re the only one who’s never allowed- never... allow- You know what? Never mind.”

My eyebrows furrow so deeply, my glasses slide down my nose. It’s not something you’re supposed to get used to, I think. Do people really have someone like Emerson in their lives without realizing how blessed they are?

“Okay. What do you want to do now?”

“Homework. But I left everything in my dorm.” Sighing again, she picks up her phone.

“You did homework while I napped. Let’s do something fun.”

Waving a hand in the air, she says, “I guess I’ll get Akira to bring it and meet us somewhere. She works late tonight though, so I’ll have a late night. I mean. We can totally get dinner.” Emerson pauses then. “Do you have family dinners? Or can I kidnap you and skedaddle?”

In my room, Emerson stands out boldly. Against all the bland variants of beige, Emerson’s long black hair and brown skin and the large maroon sweatshirt she’s stolen makes it clear to me once again that she and I belong in wildly different worlds. Between the two, the world that sparkles more brilliantly is hers, not mine. 

Forget mansions and riches and research and reputations. It physically hurts how much I simply want to be next to her - whatever the world of reincarnated beings looks like. Where she seems to glimmer, especially in her anger. Where I can watch her expressions subtly shift. Where she constantly has flyaway hairs sticking out of her messy bun and where I can kiss her as I see fit. Where she can push me down and kiss me as she sees fit.

I feel it in the tenseness of my shoulders. My eyes might even be threatening to leak a few embarrassing tears. 

In that moment, I don’t think any of these thoughts. All I think is, oh. 

-

can’t believe i’ve been shoehorning every trope except oh. what have i been doing this whole time, then??

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[greenbriar-j]

cooking with aiden and finley <3 (it’s long but v fluffy)

“You make it sound like I’m useless in the kitchen.”

“You are. Quit taking up so much space!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault the dorm designers made the kitchen smaller than your dic-“

“Aiden,” a lilting voice breaks through the argument. “If you finish that sentence, I am never speaking to you again.”

“Emmie, please,” Aiden says as we both look up. “Pfft.”

Aiden chortles a bit, but I can’t fathom why. Emerson looks like she could kill me again, in a wonderfully blue dress that looks like it was designed just for her. Her hair is straightened perfectly, curling inward gently at the ends. Her makeup is different, too, though I’m in no position to describe the way that works. All her jewelry is silver, including my lightning-shaped ring on her finger. 

“Babe, why didn’t you tell him you’re bad with onions?” Emerson asks, glancing between Aiden’s mess of onions and me. For a moment I’m confused, then remember that the two friends address each other as couples would. “Finley,” she says. I smile softly at the sound of my name. If she always says it like that, I’d never want a nickname from her anyway. “He’s a crybaby with onions. He probably can’t even see right now.”

“Where’s Florence?” June asks.

Aiden sniffles loudly. “Junie, I’m dying, and you’re asking about another man. I’m wounded.”

“Cut it out, you big baby. Akira said she’d send Florence so you don’t fuck up the seasoning.”

“I’m doing the seasoning, so I sent him away,” I answer before Aiden neatly sidesteps the question again. “I make a killer steak, so y’all better be ready.”

June and Emerson settle at the bar stools by the nearest counter and exchange a look. Rather than respond, June hands Emerson some lip gloss, and they get caught up in a conversation about it.

“They’re ignoring us, aren’t they?” I nudge Aiden with a foot.

He kicks me back with unnecessary force. “Obviously. Make them eat their words, Schultz. We have to knock their socks off.”

“Neither of them are wearing socks.”

“I am holding a knife. Don’t make me use it.”

I turn to him to make a serious rebuttal, then have to hold in a laugh at his teary expression. If I had known I could make him cry this much just with onions, I would’ve made him cook ages ago.

Soft music starts to play through the kitchen. I recognize the song from the playlist Emerson plays every time I give her free reign in my car. Emerson waves a tiny speaker at us. “I’m setting the mood. Although I think I should’ve prepared carnival music instead, for the amount of clownery going on here.”

“I forgot to mention you look amazing. Now play me some sexy tunes for my sexy cooking.”

“Sure, baby,” Emerson smirks.

“You know she wore that dress to our senior prom? I have the matching tie.”

“So?”

“So you’re second place this time.”

“Is this what we’re competing on now? Who sees her new clothes first? Just so you know, this is the playlist she made for me. Specifically for me.”

Circus music interrupts the conversation. Emerson laughs at our expressions, and June smirks too. “If you’re both done flirting, I’m a little hungry over here. Also, Finley, I’m pretty sure this is your playlist.”

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[greenbriar-j]

I know what I just said about disappearing and I will but I just need you all to see this

An image flashes through my mind. A different night, with Emerson against the bookcase. Her face flushed, and her long hair like silky black curtain down her back. A book in my hands, that face of hers that makes her look like what she claims to be, something slightly more heavenly than human.

Slow down, buddy, I scold myself as my hands clench. I’m remembering now the way her body felt under my hands. That which she still wished to keep hidden from view, but had no issues with me discovering by hand. You’re literally next to a bookcase. This is a fire hazard, and you know that.

Like a hawk locking in on its prey, he steals a kiss off my lips. A deep one. A long one, to make up for the time we’ve been apart.

By the time we actually leave his room, his hands have become acquainted with almost every contour of my body and mine with his. It doesn’t get any further than that, both of us too nervous and too naïve – plus, his whole family is home.

Pulling the sweater back over my exposed mid-riff, I ask him, “Should I get back in the dress, or…?”

I stand, and Finley stands with me. “No, I like this look better. It’s more you. Not that the other one was bad at all, but this one also doesn’t involve you in heels.”

I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. “Afraid of getting stabbed?”

“Afraid of ruining your feet. You’re still going to be running around campus tomorrow regardless, and that is going to be a problem.” He points at my feet bundled in my shark patterned socks. “Now that we’ve wrinkled this outfit, I should probably also get changed.”

“Erase the evidence. Good thinking.”

“The evidence is on your neck, Emerson. If your hair was still long, you could’ve hidden it.” He grins deviously.

Clapping a hand over it, I groan. “My hair isn’t that short. Get me a hoodie while you change. Maybe the hood will help.”

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[greenbriar-j]

double date?

The girl before me looks so good, my heart palpitates. The black skirt hugs her hips just right and shows just the right amount of leg going into those classically simple high heels. At the same time, the blazer is stylishly large and a mauve color, paired with a white top and gold jewelry. She’s tucked neatly under the arm of a certain blonde Atherton boy – who also suddenly has a sense of style, like he walked out from one of Max’s magazine shoots.

And then, of course, there’s Emerson, smirking at me from in front of them. I run up and drape my arms over her shoulders, still eyeing Aiden and June warily. “I didn’t know you guys were coming along.”

“I didn’t either, if it makes you feel better,” Aiden quips. June crams an elbow into his side. “Julian is scheming something again.”

Emerson shoves me off her, evidently tired of being smothered by my godly physique. “You need to go on a diet.”

“You need to start working out,” I counter. “If I needed a diet, my mom would have said so. I weigh as much as a feather, Ms. Spaghetti Arms.”

“I’m going to-“

“Stab you, yes, but you don’t have a knife, so-“ I stick my tongue out at her.

“Emmie, catch.” Right after Aiden says that, something flies through the air. Emerson fumbles it for a long few seconds before it clatters to the ground.

She picks it up, turning the ornate floral blade in her hands. It’s an exquisite and elegant object, and not one I expect Aiden to know or care about. And yet. “Aiden, I’m not actually stabbing him.”

“Keep it for when you are.”

June elbows him again, and he hisses. While Aiden stares at June with puppy eyes, the two girls have some exchange in Vietnamese. Knowing both of them, they could either be complimenting us or making fun of us, and their faces wouldn’t look any different in either case.

-

When was the last time I wrote enough to post 4 excerpts in a day?

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[greenbriar-j]

in which emerson reveals all her secrets

“Did you know?” Aiden asks with a terrible indifference. “How hard it is for someone to have a crush on you?”

With a click of my tongue, I sit up and roll my eyes before glaring at him. “I know. I’m unattractive, three levels too sarcastic, and smart but not in a way that attracts male attention. I got it.”

At that, Aiden softens, repositioning himself to look dead into my eyes. “Not that, sweetheart. I mean because you don’t give a flying fuck what these men think because you have a horrible list of standards they have to meet before you even look at them.”

“Even if I did, what would you know about it?”

“Honey, I was in love with you for two years.”

“… You what?”

“Was in love with you for two years,” he repeats. “So I know that if you like him, you should give him a shot. I’m a horrible person, but I know you deserve to be happy.”

“I deserve a lot of things I’ll never get.” The words are what they are, but deep in my mind, I’m talking about Aiden. There are things he could achieve if he wasn’t trying to save me the pain of the world all the time.

“Yeah?”

“A mansion. A million dollars. A cat that doesn’t work up my allergies,” I count. “Will you believe in my many years of life, I’ve never not been allergic to cats? The greatest tragedy of my life. Lives.”

“A hot boyfriend whose last name is Atherton,” Aiden adds.

“Schultz,” I correct automatically before feeling the embarrassment crash over me like a wave. My secrets had no business revealing themselves in such a manner.

Aiden holds up his hands in straight-faced surrender.

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[greenbriar-j]

When I look at her now, I feel the world expands somehow. That every room I share with her stretches into the universe. It’s curious. It’s scary.

I love it.

“I love you,” I tell her because it’s easier than trying to explain the crazy ideas flying through my head.

Emerson kicks me under the table.

“We still haven’t talked about your personal issues. I know you’re going to insist that we don’t have to talk about my week spent MIA, but I don’t want to hurt you like that again. And I’m not saying you need to write me a manual about how to love you, but I think it’s important that we talk about it. And if you don’t want to talk about it-” I shrug, not actually sure what I’d do in that case.

A fire burns in her eyes, almost a challenge. “So either I tell you what you’re doing wrong or you keep breathing down my neck about it?”

I exhale deeply, clasping and unclasping my hands as I do so. “I know you’re used to pushing people away. Believe me, so am I. But if you’re going to make an effort with me anyway, you might as well equip me to make this minimally miserable for you.”

“I’m not miserable when I’m with you.”

“You’re miserable without me, and my coping mechanism is running away and turning off my phone. You can’t tell me you don’t see the problem here.”

Finally, she puts her pencil down, flipping the paper over as if it was a test she didn’t want me to steal answers from. “It’s not like I’m refusing to answer because I’m being difficult. I legitimately don’t know. I told you already, right? No one’s ever cared until you, so I don’t know how I prefer people to show their emotions for me. Look at what I let Aiden get away with. That’s my standard for affection, but I don’t want you to love me the way Aiden does. I want you to love me the way you do.”

“So,” I lean forward, toward her. “We can find out through a game of Would You Rather?”

“Just give it up, man.”

“Love, I’m trying to prioritize your mental health in this relationship. I don’t want to jeopardize it by being stupid, so help me out here.”

Once again, Emerson looks like she’d like to kill me. The weapon of choice this time? A pencil. “Give me your journal. I’ll write it out tonight and give it to you tomorrow, okay? Rule one: I articulate myself better on paper than out loud.”

-

Am I at all done with this scene? No.

Am I craving a smidgeon of the sweet, sweet validation? Yes.

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[greenbriar-j]

in which emerson has a fever (again)

Groaning softly, I look up at the figure sharing my table.

Finley leans back in his chair, relaxed and princely as he reads a small book. He bites on a pencil as he does so. In front of him, his journal is splayed wide open, his scrawl decorating the page adjacent to mine. Nothing in life is free, not even my love for you.

My own belongings have been pushed away from me, though otherwise untouched. Instead, the space immediately in front of me is filled by a water bottle and a Tylenol bottle. A sticky note sits between them: I told you to take care of yourself, and look at you… Take when one you wake up & call me if I’m not sitting across from you anymore. Finn.

Gently, I kick at whatever part of his leg I can reach.

Without looking at me, he subdues my attack with his own bigger, stronger legs, sandwiching mine in between them. “Mornin’, hellspawn.”

After a pause, I ask, “What?”

“Take your medicine and drink that entire bottle of water. One, two, three, go.” Disinterested in my compliance, he flips the page of his book. “How was your quiz?”

Swallowing the medicine and several additional gulps of water, I wince. “Postponed. I should’ve skipped; I couldn’t focus enough to actually learn anything.”

“You learned that your boyfriend is always right.”

“Okay, Satan, calm down.”

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[greenbriar-j]

Dropping onto one of the beanbags, I reach for Emerson to pull her into my lap.

Because she’s Emerson and because she’s in a mood, she slaps my hand like a low-five, then sits in the adjacent beanbag. “What movie you got there?”

“Well, I was thinking we could do some Mario Kart.”

“You don’t have Mario Kart.”

“I do now. Because someone I know greatly enjoys it, it would be a crime if I continued not to have it, you know? I got the newest version - bought the console too, since I had none of it.”

For a moment, Emerson stares at her socks as she twitches her toes. “I… Am not in the mood today, actually. I’m happy you thought of it though, don’t get me wrong. I just think I’d rather watch a movie.”

Hint number 1: Someone said mean things to my girl. Hint number 2: She’s not in a Mario Kart mood. Hasty conclusion: This has to do with Aiden Atherton.

“Hey.” I wait until she looks at me before I continue. It’s only a moment, but a very long moment indeed. “Maybe you should take a nap. I took one earlier; it was amazing. Like you.”

She shakes her head. “Stop. No compliments. Too much caffeine in the system for a nap.”

Rather than respond, I put on a nature documentary – one about the wide blue oceans and the mysterious critters in them. “Will you hate me if I make you cuddle while I learn about the deep sea?”

“I will hate you regardless,” she responds, already tipping over to lay her head on my chest.

Shifting slightly, I slot her into my side, letting her warm me up, though I hadn’t been cold to begin with. By the time I’ve finished ordering our food, she’s sleeping on my chest, half her face covered by the large sleeves of the sweater she wears. Gently, I push some hair out of her face and carefully adjust to make this as minimally painful for myself as possible. I love her to bits, but my arm will fall asleep no matter what kind of affection she pulls from me.

Listening to David Attenborough (or is it Liam Neeson this time?) tell me about a certain kind of shark, I rub small circles on Emerson’s upper arm through the large sleeve of her sweater. When she wakes up, she’s going to be seething that she spent the majority of our date unconscious, but I don’t care. 

I should’ve worn my onesie and called it a sleepover.

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[greenbriar-j]

In which Finley pulls up the parking lot outside the Atherton apartment bc... no reason:

I hold my arms out for a hug. I had nothing to say, really. How can I pick one thing to tell her with the thousands of thoughts running through my head at absurd speeds? I’d be more likely to make a fool of myself than tell her something she’d want to hear.

Hesitantly, Emerson nestles herself in my arms. Pulling her close, I suck a deep breath in. My heart is about to make a break for it – but maybe that’s not so bad, after all.

“Finley?” She asks. “Is everything… Okay?”

And because she isn’t pulling away, I say, “Yeah. Everything is great.”

The still of the parking lot is a little magical. Emerson under the dim street light is magical.

“Did I tell you I really really like you?” The fact that I pulled the correct sentence out of my tangled mind is magical. “Like a ridiculous amount?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Does it matter if I believe you?”

“Of course it matters.”

“Empirically, I can’t prove anything either way, so what’s the point?”

“… Why are we suddenly talking about empires?”

“You can’t tell me you’ve made it this far without learning the word empirical.”

I smile, hugging her even closer. At that, she starts to push away.

“I can’t breathe if you do that,” she complains.

“My family may be scientific,” I tell her, “but I’m not. You never have to prove anything to me.”

“Oh, honey,” she chuckles. “I’m going to prove things you’ve never even wondered about, just you wait.”

---

no thoughts on plot, so i continue to write toothachingly sweet scenes because really i have no reason not to *shrug emoji*

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[greenbriar-j]

in which i give myself feelings i didn’t ask for

“You just have to know that I have a one-track mind, and right now, you’re the only one on the track.”

After a pause, he looks up at me. His eyes cut straight into me, and I shrink a little, feeling my hard-earned confidence wane a little.

“Is this the trolley problem? Am I on your path of destruction?”

This is not where I expected him to take this conversation. In fact, I’m not sure what to make of this statement at all.

“What?”

He leans back on his hands, stretching his legs to one side of me. A smile smile dances across his face, but there’s no sign of joy in it anywhere. “Emerson Mai Cao,” he says, eliciting a wary glance from me for the use of my full name. “You’re ruining me.”

Stunned, I stare at him silently. It’s the only reaction I can think to give.

“I’m just making assumptions.”

“Well, don’t,” I snap.

He continues. “But I’m pretty sure you’d save the world, given the chance. I’ve seen your tiny acts of service. You think they’re pointless, but you’ve probably saved so many lives without even knowing it.”

“You’re not making sense,” I complain.

“You’re not making sense. Nothing fazes you, until I start making advances. You’re scared of me, for some reason. You make me wait, and you make me agree to let you flirt with a man who can’t be kind to you. You tell me you like me, but you tell me it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do, Emerson. Tell me what to do.”

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[greenbriar-j]

In which they settle their first couple’s argument

I settle her on the bed. “Would you like to eviscerate me right off the bat, or should we save it for an intermission?” Then I clear a path for myself to pace.

After blowing her nose, she glares at me. “Don’t try to be cute. It’s working.”

“I swear I was at the library this whole time. Working. For you.”

“It’s okay,” she says.

So she chose to eviscerate me right away. Because I know she means it. Because for her to mean it means she thinks this is all she deserves - and it’s not. None of the way I went about this was ‘okay.’

“What were you working on?” She mumbles.

“I- Damn, it’s in the car.” What was I even doing this whole time?

“Go get it, then.”

“No.” I quit the pacing and look into her eyes. I try to, anyway, since she won’t meet my gaze. “I left you when you needed me not to, so now I’m going to act like a leech. Yes?”

“Bro.”

I blink at her, then put on my business voice. “When we went to visit Aiden, Julian said it was your fault. Julian said it was because I was with you and distracting you from what mattered.”

“And you fell for that.”

“Yes. You already know I’m stupid. But hold on, I’m going somewhere with this.”

“I hope not. You just said you weren’t going anywhere.” Emerson raised her eyebrows at me, adjusting the sleeves of her - my - sweater. “But go on.”

“The Crystal Heart,” I say slowly, watching her reaction. She doesn’t flinch. Soon, she’ll become just another artifact in Julian’s museum. “I’m sure you remember how that one went. If anything Julian says is true, you’re living in a rerun.”

“Uh huh.”

“So I was- Okay, hold on.” Climbing onto the bed in front of her, I reach out to fluff her hair. One of her arms instinctively comes up to bar me from it, but I shake her off. “You cut it?” Last I saw her, her sleek black hair reached her waist, easily. Now, though, it just barely passes her shoulders.

I noticed immediately, but thought I should tackle the big picture first. But fuck, she looks good.

“I thought you’d never notice! I knew you were dense, but come on!” Emerson laughs finally. “Do you like it?”

I kiss the top of her head, pulling back to fluff at her hair some more. “This is such a good look for you. Twenty times more distracting than normal.”

“I cut it on impulse because I hear that’s what girls do in times of heartbreak.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm. Not that I was heartbroken, but I was angry. I almost dyed it some outrageous color too, but Aiden convinced me not to.” Before I ask what color qualified as outrageous, she answers. “Like pink? It might’ve ended up pink, but he said I’d look stupid in pink, so I changed my mind.”

“You’d look good in pink. I think.”

“You think I’d look good in anything. Your opinion doesn’t count.”

“Hey!”

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[greenbriar-j]

Three excerpts from recent writing :)