continued from here for @writelikeyouarerunningoutof
❛ why do you have this photo out? ❜ Emma to Neal
Neal turned to Emma, furrow of confusion between his eyebrows. His expression cleared when he saw the photo she was pointing at, as if touching it would hurt her. And maybe it would. Gods knew the memories hurt Neal too, except he'd been the one to inflict heartbreak on them both. Knowing she wouldn't like the answer, he moved to pick up the photo. Neal looked at it, not at Emma when he answered softly. "You know why, Em." He stroked at the glass over the frozen image of a younger them gently. Just as carefully, he set it back down on his bedside table and took a step back, away from the photo. Away from Emma. "You know why."
Emma held herself firm as he passed her, stuck on the younger reflection of them. Bright smiles, a close up of their faces pressed together adoringly from as far as Neal's arms had been able to hold the old disposable camera. They'd stolen the camera and she'd been surprised when he wasted the money getting the pictures developed. Most of them had been of whoever the camera belonged to, but the last few were of them. Making memories that were supposed to be the first of many.
Her eyes burned with a decade of unshed tears suddenly and she turned away from him, from the photo. So many horrible things queued on the tip of her tongue, anger and hurt pushing them, but she didn't want to feel that anymore. And she didn't want him to know how much it still affected her. "We look like idiots," she grumbled finally, her arms crossed firmly.