"You need to put yourself first." / "Please, just trust me, just this once." / "I’m not buying it, you don’t walk into a door and get a bruise like that!" / "Let’s get you to bed." / "I don’t know what to do any more." / "Thank you."
"You need to put yourself first."
Emma stared up at him, fighting her frustration down. How could she explain this to him? Would he ever understand, would he ever even try? “I do,” she said carefully, picking her words with great care. “I do put myself first. I like seeing the people I love happy, that makes me happy. And that doesn’t make me good,” she added quickly, knowing how people saw her: sacrificial, generous, kind — but she had her own flaws, flaws that haunted her and made her want to hide, too. “I just... don’t know how to explain it. But I wish you would understand and stop making me feel like I don’t measure up because of how I feel. Like I’m still a child.” She stared down at her hands as she picked at her nails self-consciously, feeling small and unsure.
"Please, just trust me, just this once."
“Stop,” Emma shook her head stubbornly, as if that would get the pleading chord in his voice out of her head, as if that would harden her heart against the look in his eye that made her feel needed and wanted. “I’ve always trusted you, but this is too much! I hate watching you do this over and over. I hate it when you go out and fight, I hate it, I hate how it makes me feel... I can take away your pain but I can’t take away death, and neither can Ryo, and I just...” She took a deep, shaky breath. Stepping forward, she hesitantly reached for his hand, wondering if he would pull it away before she could take it. “It’s not only you who’s being beat up... it hurts me, too.”
"I’m not buying it, you don’t walk into a door and get a bruise like that!"
“Well, it’s the truth!” Emma shot back, the sting of her lie burning her lips as she told it. Of course walking into a door wouldn’t give her such a black eye; even she wasn’t so clumsy. But she couldn’t find the courage to tell Darius she had been out alone at a party no one had been interested in attending with her. So Emma, foolishly believing that her powers somehow made her invincible, had gone — but any drunk college girl could get into trouble. He would call her stupid, naive, mock her... and she didn’t know how to accept anything but love; negativity hurt her tender feelings too easily. Her best option was to lie, even if Darius knew she was lying. “I just hit it at the wrong angle or something,” she said miserably, reaching for an ice pack to hold over the bruise. “Can we just stop talking about it? I’m not in the mood.”
That, at least, was true.
"Let’s get you to bed."
“But why?” She could hear her words slurring together, and she could see her vision becoming slow and blurry at the corners; but she was sober, she was totally sober. “You trying to sleep with me, Darius?” A sort of chortling sound burst from her, more bark than laughter, and she looped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. “Thanks, Darius, but I think Buttercup would be soooo mad at me if we had sex. Plus,” she looked up at him with a secretive smile, “I’m a virgin, and I really think I should be sober for my first time. Don’t you think?” Her head suddenly feeling heavy, she tilted it to one side and looked quizzically up at him. “Are you a virgin? I mean, I sort of assume everyone is a virgin until I find out otherwise but I don’t think you would be. You look like you’ve fucked.” Emma burst into giggles at her own profanity while untangling herself from Darius, already turning to skip away. “Anyway, I’m going to get another drink, I think. And don’t try to stop me, or I’ll fight you! I’ll use my waterbending to lock you up, Elsa-style.”
"I don’t know what to do any more."
It was the first she’d ever heard his voice like this. Her expression softened and Emma scooted closer beside him until their shoulders touched. “You’ll do what you always do,” she said, “You’ll get back up and keep fighting. That sounds like you, doesn’t it?” She offered him a smile, hoping that it didn’t fall short, and laced her fingers through his with confidence. “It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone has those days...” Her pathetic attempt at humor fell flat even to her own ears. “And she’ll forgive you, and you will figure it out. And I’ll help you.” Emma kissed his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to guide his head to her lap and play with his hair until he fell asleep. “She’ll see. She’ll see that you mean it.”
"Thank you."
The words were so foreign coming from Darius’s lips that it took a moment before Emma quite registered his gratitude. She tried to hide her elation with a hand to her mouth, but there was no covering the wide comical eyes, the bright grin that could split her face in half if she wasn’t fighting to keep her cool. “You’re welcome,” she said breathlessly as she stifled her laughter. Darius was thanking her. She wasn’t quite sure why — she hadn’t done anything so deserving of his rare thanks. But he had given it, and in a few minutes, Emma would be touched and honored and emotional. Right now, though, she was giddy with a sense of wonder and shock, and so fond of Darius that she could melt. “So I guess you like me after all, huh?” she teased, winking offhandedly at him. “I knew it would happen eventually! Yay!”
