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🧪What do you do Without Chemistry?🧪

Word Count: 7564

Chapter 2: Picking Up the Pieces of a Shattered Life

Months passed, her life turning into a whirlwind. Partnering with Xavier properly and having him create her a fake identity to help her enter the N109 Zone, helping Rafayel with his coral stone so he could sneak her into said zone and hiding it all from Zayne, or at least attempting to on their trip to visit Doctor Noah…

All so she could get answers, get revenge for Caleb and Gran.

Exhausting.

The new people in her life had stepped up in surprisingly sweet and careful ways after she fell apart, for fall apart she had.

Zayne had been the first.

The first person she saw when she woke up after the explosion, the first to reprimand her when she began to push herself to exhaustion, and the first to help drag her from her depression with cafe outings and kitty cards. He’d been there at the funeral, silent and tall, allowing her to hide behind him when it all got to be too much.

Gideon and the rest of Caleb’s friends from the DAA, her university roommate and her high school acquaintances. Neighbours, grandma’s old friends… she just wanted it all to stop.

He’d pulled her aside when it all got too much, shadowing her in his body while she cried and cried and cried. Emmie couldn’t help but wish he would have hugged her at that moment, yet he never did. Cold as ice, yet to her he had been a warming balm.

Next was Rafayel. He had texted her before she'd even left the hospital, offering her a tradition from his family. Shells to be painted and given to the sea. Emmie had gone to his studio gratefully, sitting for hours while she painted, listening to the sound of the ocean and his breathing. Before everything, she wouldn’t have thought Rafayel would even be the type of person to lean on in scenarios like this.

It was wonderful to be proven wrong. A true friend, it was a transition that happened in micro moments but one she was grateful for.

Finally Xavier had come. He’d disappeared before the explosion, the two of them reconnecting at work weeks later on a train infested with a wanderer. It seemed the event had, at last, had him taking her seriously. No more blown off work calls, no more partner missions done solo. Whatever reason he'd run from her before seemed gone now.

He wasn’t one for grand gestures. Food left on her desk, water or coffee always at the ready, a quiet steady presence that stood steadfast at her side. Once they discovered they both lived in the same building it had only escalated. Hotpot dinners and the occasional arcade outing, she was… grateful to him. To them all.

With their help she picked herself back up again. Working with near manic intensity to hunt down the people who had killed her family.

Onychinus… they would pay.

It hadn’t registered through her grief and rage that what others saw from her friends' actions wasn’t the same as her.

“Are Emmie and Xavier dating?”

The whisper, heard accidentally in the changing room stalls of the Hunter’s Association, had been like a shock of ice.

Dating…

The punch of fear and shame was visceral, her hands dropping to hang limply at her side. It was unfair. It was so fucking unfair. How many relationships with male friends had been ruined by rumors just like this?! Frozen in place she listened to the two hunters talk.

“You mean the new rookie?” A scoff and a sigh. “What an ice queen. Xavier keeps leaving her food and gifts and she practically ignores him. If you don’t like him just tell him, how rude.”

“I thought she was dating that doctor she meets for lunch once a week? Have you seen him? Gorgeous. Maybe that’s why she’s so cold.”

A laugh, the other voice turning slightly snide. “Yeah I saw them at the Destiny Cafe. I don’t think they are though, he was just sitting there while she yammered at him. The guy looked so bored.”

Another voice joined in, softer and kinder. “Hey, I heard her family died recently or something. Honestly, they’re both probably just being nice. Xavier’s her partner afterall. I bet she gets that. And who even knows about that other guy. I've seen him in the papers, he's some sort of doctor genius who knew her grandma.”

“Oh…” Silence. “Well now I just feel like shit.”

A chuckle from the other voice.

“Still. Xavier stares at her half the time he’s in the office. Pretty sure he’s not “just being nice”-”

She didn’t wait to hear the rest, seizing her bag and rushing from the back door and out of the changing room. Her stomach curdled.

Please no-

It wasn’t that Xavier wasn’t handsome and kind, he was. And that was the actual problem. Dates with Xavier would be wonderful, the last month had proven that. Hotpot and video games, movies and days at the arcade, it was what came after that crumbled in her mind. Romantic attraction, she experienced it. For Rafayel, for Xavier, for Zayne and hell, even in the shameful depths of her heart she could admit she’d felt it for Caleb as well.

Yet that’s where it ended for her.

The thought of any of them kissing her, touching her as she did herself, it did nothing. How on earth would that be fair to any of them? Pausing in the hallway she heaved in a breath, eyes sliding closed. It was… hard for her to picture Xavier looking at her in that way. He was always so quiet, so composed. Unlike Zayne who felt like a blank facade at times, Xavier just felt… nonchalant, like Emmie was standing before a wall that she’d never be able to climb. Trying to picture him like she’d seen those actors in porn…

Flushed and sweating, eyes hooded and lips parted-

Her eyes popped open with a blush, her brain unable to imagine his expression dropping into one of lust without wanting to cringe. Especially not one directed at her.

Breathing deep she forced herself to relax, to let the jitter of anxiety go.

Honestly he'd never given her the impression he was even interested in that sort of thing, she was hardly attractive enough to warrant it when compared to his own looks. Thumping her head against the wall she grunted. Was it wishful thinking that any of them would want her romantically or just anxious fear?

This is really a me issue, isn’t it?

Ashamed she rushed to her desk, blinking away the deep ache in her chest and quickly sitting, head positively buzzing.

“Are you okay?”

Xavier’s voice was the last thing she wanted to hear right now. Forcing a smile she met his eyes steadily. “Yeah! I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Everything suddenly felt awkward in a way it hadn’t before. Emmie couldn’t help but study his face, looking for the thing they saw, yet she couldn’t. Xavier looked like Xavier. Soft, sleepy and gentle.

With a nod he moved back to his own desk, leaving her to stew over her paperwork as her thoughts continued to spiral.

Her workday as such was exhausting.

The words had cleared at least part of the haze of her grief, had her studying the two new men in her life like a hawk, their presences suddenly full of anxiety. Rafayel and Xavier…. Zayne had known her since childhood, to be friends again felt natural, but for these two new, handsome individuals, it made no sense did it?

Men were friends with women to date them, to sleep with them, because that's what society dictated. That’s what every single person had always said. How many times had Caleb told her men only wanted one thing? How many times had Gran warned her away from neighbourhood boys and how many times in university had her overtures in friendship ended in exactly that messy situation?

Her stomach heaved at the thought.

Please no.

The anxiety lingered into the evening. A gala with Rafayel, a gun strapped to her thigh and a juice in her hand. She followed the tall line of his back, watching him dodge other people's touch like they were lepers. Laconic and saccharine, he swept aside the attention of men and women alike, directing them with careful words to his art and away from his person.

It was like watching poetry.

Emmie could only be taken in by envy at the display. He hated being touched, seemed completely uninterested in everyone and anyone. Male, female, it didn't matter to Rafayel how gorgeous they were, his expression never changed.

The idea bloomed and then lingered, shamefully hopeful.

Is he like me?

Women and men, they threw themselves at him and not once did he seem to care, seem to want. Her chest eased while she watched him, his presence beginning to settle her. If nothing else, there was so much to learn from how effortless he made it seem.

He caught her staring, head tilting and brow raising. “Something on your mind?”

Emmie shook her head and offered him a tired smile. “Nothing, I'm just impressed.”

His smile was smug, his arm a warm band where he wrapped it around her shoulder and pulled her slightly closer. “Watch and learn then cutie, you’ll be able to handle all those pesky civilians no problem if you just stick with me.”

After the event wound down she followed him from the gallery to his studio, watching his body slump the second the door slid shut behind him.

“Ugghhhh, I know these events are important but they’re terrible!” He blinked up at her with wide, sad eyes. “Why can’t they be shorter?” A dramatic tip backwards onto his couch, long legs splaying and an arm thrown over his face. “It’s practically criminal.”

With a hum she approached, pulling off her heels and digging through her work bag at his side. “It’s all part of your job though, right?”

A grunt and a pout to his voice. “Don’t point that out, cutie.”

Snorting to herself she pulled out her armored pants, unthinkingly moving to wiggle them into place under her dress. Her legs were cold!

A presence at her back stopped her. Rafayel sat there, leaned on one side with his head propped in his hand, two toned eyes studying her. Emmie couldn’t read his expression for the life of her. Glancing down at the pants in her hand and back up she blushed. “Uh, is it okay with you if I get changed…?” Rafayel had become a bit of a staple in her life since the explosion but they had still only known each other for a few months. It’s not like she had been about to flash him but still!

Another blink, his brow flattening ever so slightly. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He shook his head, purple hair waving. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I was just thinking… you look beautiful in that dress. I kept stealing glances at you all night.”

Her stomach plummeted, hands going clammy. “O-oh thank you.” She made a show of pulling on the bottom of the skirt. “It’s really eye-catching, right?” It wasn’t. A plain dark blue dress with a loose fit. It was elegant and understated, something she’d purchased with Tara’s help the week before. She willed Rafayel to agree almost desperately, to not shatter the illusion she had been building in her head.

“Hmmm…” He was studying her, sitting up and scooting closer. She could see the flecks of pink and blue in his eyes, feel the faint heat of his breath against her forehead…

Don’t…

The thought was nearly a cry to the universe. What would she do if he tried to touch her right now? Kiss her? Or even confess to her? Please don’t destroy our friendship! Heart thundering she held still like something hunted and waited.

Those spectacular eyes of his were intense, the look in them veiled. Closer he came, until she was shadowed in the towering cast of his body. Had he always been so big? So present? Emmie felt overwhelmed. The scent of paint, the ocean and something almost like a rich spice, his presence a weighted, poignant thing. What he was looking for in her gaze, she didn’t know, the silence between them becoming something unbearable.

Rafayel's expression flickered again before smoothing, intensity tucking tail and rushing away. It was so quick Emmie couldn’t help but feel off balance, her racing heart suddenly seeming incredibly silly. With a soft huff he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

He retreated like the tide, flopping back onto the couch and covering his face with his arm. “Do you need a ride home?”

“N-no, my bike is still here.”

He nodded and then lifted his hand idly, fingers waving. “Text me when you get home safe then Miss Bodyguard.”

Emmie took the chance to flee, collecting her bag and rushing to his bathroom to change. Staring into the mirror at her exhausted face she slumped. Had that all been in her head?

---

The lingering feeling of awkwardness persisted right up until Rafayel had her kidnapped into the N109 Zone. Of course she had agreed to his plan but still! Getting stuffed into a trunk was a whole new world and she honestly wasn’t sure if that had been the worst part or if that award belonged to what happened… after…

Meeting Sylus was…

A lot.

A deep, growly voice, forced resonance and a hand that directed a gun. For three days she was trapped, three days where Sylus pushed and pushed and pushed. He talked about desire, about being the same-

He was terrifying.

There was something knowing and seeking in his eyes, in his presence. It pinged against her brain abrasively, the unending sensation that she wasn’t living up to his expectations. The heist for the broach was when she realized there was an entire layer to his actions she simply wasn’t understanding. Had he thought she would feel desire at how he constantly walked around in bath robes or without a shirt? Muscles flexing, hair wet, chains that swung and led her eyes lower to pants that clung sinfully. Maybe on another woman it would have but for her…

It just made her feel awkward.

Sylus embodied desire and as someone who didn’t feel it…

She’d never felt so broken.

That she got home safe was something she was so grateful for. For as abrasive as he had been, he’d never truly hurt her, had indeed seemed manic with some goal Emmie simply couldn’t understand. His insistence that they were the same, that she should know him, it made no sense to her.

She could still remember when she had felt along his robe while he pretended to be unconscious. He had been strong. Muscles upon muscles, skin hot and silky. Emmie had noted that he’d smelled nice, that even in sleep he had seemed tense, but that had been it. When he had flipped her, pinned her, wrestling her for that stupid fake gun she had seen it in his eyes. Desire. Sylus had wanted her.

Sitting in her living room with a tub of ice-cream, she picked at it and cried silently.

To feel broken because of a man who had been a menace to her from the moment she met him was stupid, but equally so, part of Emmie had wanted him to approve of her. A nameless, seeking thing that quaked in half remembered resonance. It had eased in his presence, had curled warmly and fondly in an unearned deluge of strange emotions that left her drained and exhausted. Sylus had felt like coming home and walking into an arena all at once and she couldn’t sort out her thoughts about it all.

Staring down at her phone she glared at his contact name. The feelings he’d invoked in her… god she just wanted them to stop. Her thumb hovered over the block button. Even if they had achieved a weird sort of zen after battling the wanderer on the roof, did she… want to see him again?

Sighing she dropped back, head tilted towards the ceiling.

That was a thought for tomorrow.

Ice cream put away she stumbled to her bed, clutching Caleb’s necklace tightly once she was tucked in. There she cried silently.

Caleb… I miss you…

Another thought, her stomach twisting desperately.

I wish I could be better at all this.

---

Her avoidance came to a head in the worst way possible. Xavier and her at her house one quiet evening, their game shared and snacks between them. Emmie was still shaken from her trip to the N109 Zone, still unsteady and buzzing. Had that been what threw her off her game? Made her complacent and silly?

They talked and laughed, it was perfectly normal. They were friends. Good friends. Yet why then, if they were just friends why were they now like this?

A moment of inattention, her blanket tangled around her legs, Emmie hadn’t meant to trip, hadn’t meant to catch Xavier in a collision of limbs and drop them both to the floor. He was heavy above her, solid and warm, his breath brushing past her forehead while he pushed himself upwards. Groaning, she rubbed the back of her head, grateful where he had caught her skull before it could collide fully with the ground.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I’m such a clutz these days-” Her words died.

Close, he was so close. Hooded and intense, he shook his head and stared with their breath shared between them. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

She could physically feel him talking from where their chests were pressed. Rumbling and low, the compression of his stomach to hers. Stupidly her brain stuttered. He smells like spring… “Y-yes, I’m perfectly fine!” In her mind she urged him to get up, body tensing at how his eyes trailed down her face, flicking to her lips for the barest moment and then back to her eyes. Emmie knew what that look meant.

She’d never kissed someone she actually liked romantically before…

The idea stilled her, had her heart kicking into high gear and threatening to explode out of her chest, so strong surely he could feel it?

What if that was the secret though?

Her stupid, alcohol fueled experiments and the failures that followed, her own desperate battle to be normal. What if… instead… she just had to… want someone romantically? Would the switch finally flip then? Unthinkingly she stared at his mouth, the bow of it and the faint sheen where his lips parted. Emmie adored Xavier, wanted to be closer to him, wanted to experience the intimacy of a relationship. With him, life would be easy. Games and hotpot, work together and evenings cuddled together under a warm blanket while a movie played. He’d be an easy person to live with, a reassuring presence when things got tough, and someone Emmie could easily see being her family. She wanted him to be more than just her friend, wanted to have the right to hold and comfort him, to share her most intimate thoughts and rest within the love of being known. She ached for that experience so much it made her chest hurt.

I want it…

She felt his heart pound where they were pressed, her brow furrowing. If she could just… feel what others felt, that thing that allowed someone to be more than friends, then everything would be better, would be right-

His fingers sliding through the hair at the nape of her neck brought her back to herself, the heated trade of breaths making her gaze blow wide. Up she stared, into a face flushed and wanting.

Oh my god!!

A month ago she hadn’t been able to picture this expression on his face but now…

He’d definitely taken her silence and contemplation of his person in a very different way!! Her fingers pressed to his chest, head fuzzing. No man had ever looked at her like this, like he was two seconds from devouring her whole. Emmie had never seen such an intense expression on Xavier’s face, hadn’t even thought he was really capable of such a strong reaction, and yet now she was seeing it and feeling it in full technicolour. She heard it in the thunder of their mutual heartbeats and tasted it in the breath they traded. He wasn’t looking at her eyes, pupils blown and focused on her lips, the subtle pressure of his hand gentle on the back of her head.

There’s no way back from this.

Emmie would not use him as an experiment.

“Xavier, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” He blinked, pausing and then flushing red for a very different reason. A moment of stillness, him studying her expression intently. Her terror, her anxiety, her creeping sense of dread, it must have been readable on her face. He was up so fast he displaced the air between them, hand lifting and scratching the back of his head briefly before he reached down and offered her his hand. “Sorry… I just- I thought-”

Hearing his words stutter made her stomach drop. Catching his hand she allowed him to pull her to her feet in one smooth move, untangling the blanket that started this all and patting his shoulder. He was covering his mouth, brow furrowing in confusion.

I’m so sorry.

“I really am clumsy huh?” A forced laugh, Emmie patted him again. “Should we finish getting snacks?”

Xavier peered at her over his shoulder, something lost in his expression. “...okay.” He paused, hands tensing. “Emmie do you-”

She cut him off. “Great! Let’s go!”

Rushing past him she made her way into the kitchen, willing her heart to slow.

Why does it have to be this way?

---

Disaster with Xavier averted, yet the event had left an impression. An… idea. Emmie hated that it wouldn’t leave her, that it dogged her steps day in and day out. She was a heinous person, undeserving of love. Wanting to kiss her male friends just so she could test and see if they could fix her. Could she be more shameful?

The thought lingered during her day out with Rafayel, her eyes trailing the artist while they walked from stall to stall. They both paused by a vendor selling fish cakes, Rafayel eagerly getting them their order while she stared at him in helpless contemplation.

“Do you want sauce with yours?”

“Huh?” Snapping back into herself she shook her head, glancing down at the boxes in his hand numbly. “Oh sure.”

He hummed, nodding to the vendor and grabbing the packets before sliding them into her hand. “You know, it’s pretty rude not to pay attention to the person you’re with, yeah?” He pouted with deliberation at her guilty expression. “I don’t offer my precious time to just anyone.”

Emmie flushed and ducked her head, following him to a shady spot beneath a tree and sitting. “Sorry Rafayel I’m just… I have a lot on my mind.”

He settled by her side, shoulders brushing and food held. “Like what? Care to share with the class?”

She huffed unthinkingly, holding her fish cakes and stabbing one with violence. Staring at it on her stick she paused, a terrible, wanting question burbling. “Promise not to be weird?”

Glaring from the corner of his eyes, he held his own cake, nose wrinkling. “Puh-lease! When am I ever weird?”

Emmie snorted. “Oh geeze.”

He made a “come on” gesture, tapping the top of her head playfully. “I’m serious, no weirdness from me. Now spill.”

A deep breath and another, Emmie shifted anxiously and then blurted: “What makes you want to kiss someone?”

He blinked, cheeks subtly flushing in surprise and his cake stopping halfway to his mouth. “What?”

Stuttering, she tried to continue. “I-I’m just curious-”

“Why?!” He sounded scandalized, eyes blowing wide.

“Nevermind! Forget it!” Emmie jerked her head down, blushing furiously. Why did I ask that!? “Not be weird about it my ass-”

“Hooolldd on.” He cleared his throat, straightening and tugging at his collar nervously. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t answer, I was just surprised.” Rafayel blinked rapidly, staring down at her face with something searching in it. “Do you… want to kiss someone?”

There was subtle war in his eyes, a depthless emotion she couldn’t parse.

“M-maybe?” Wanting to bare her issues or not, Emmie had never had a conversation with anyone about this but now that she’d opened the door…. Might as well just go for it! “H-honestly I’ve only ever kissed a few people and I was always drunk.” She caught the deep crease in his expression, bullying forward stubbornly. “I guess I was just wondering what makes someone want to kiss someone without that.”

Her final words made his eyebrows jump and then settle. “Huh. Alcohol for courage kind of person? I wouldn’t have guessed."

“Rafayel….”

He waved her away. It was then the atmosphere changed. Searching and contemplative, his voice rolled out soft, quiet and with weight. “Well that’s not a simple thing to answer, miss bodyguard. It depends.”

Her stomach dropped. Of course it wasn’t simple. “On?”

“Who you want to kiss of course and why.” He placed his fish cakes down on the ground and rotated to face her fully. “If it’s just lust I think that’s a pretty easy thing to figure out. Body want, body do and all that, it’s when it’s more than it gets complicated. I think it varies from person to person but for me, it’s pretty simple.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bent closer, so close she could smell the subtle scent of his cologne and feel the heat from his chest. Strange, like that night with Caleb, Emmie was zinging with energy, could feel it thumping and burning her from head to toe. Ensnared in the colour of Rafayel’s eyes, her breath hitched. “It’s about wanting to be closer, to show that person that you care about them, that you want to take the leap across the chasm and hold them tightly even if you’re afraid of falling.”

The sound of his voice made her shiver.

I want to be held…

Rafayel shifted, his eyes flicking to her lips as he leaned in. Almost a whisper he continued. “For me, a kiss is about expressing that desire. It’s like art. If I like someone enough, I want to know them. I want to hold them, to share breath and body and my most fundamental self, because it’s part of sharing my heart too.”

His words were poetic and tender, romantic even….

She hated them.

“Then…” Emmie stared up at him helplessly, watching his expression fall from its quiet intensity to worry at her look of pure distress. “If I don’t want to kiss someone, does that mean I can never take that leap, never experience that?”

The words were too poignant, too close to the truth.

It was his turn to stutter, subtle confusion lighting his expression, his approach utterly halted. “W-well- a kiss isn’t everything cutie. Plenty of people kiss each other while hating each other-”

“Nevermind.” She cut him off firmly. With a strained smile she shoved the fishcake into her mouth and leaned away from him. “It doesn’t matter.” Picking up his cakes she pushed them into his hands, watching him nearly drop them in surprise with a blank expression.

“E-emmie…?”

It is what it is.

---

More time passed and life settled. One thing that had become her rock was a simple tradition. Lunch with Zayne, it was always her favourite day of the week. While the comments of her coworkers about Zayne being bored had left her feeling self conscious, Emmie had eventually tossed such thoughts aside. Afterall, to anyone who didn’t know him, his quiet demeanor definitely seemed icy. For her it was simple. Zayne chose to show up, to make time for her, and be present. She wouldn’t question it because of some loud mouths who’d never met him.

With him she never felt… pressured. It was so freeing! Afterall, he knew. Unlike all the new people in her life Zayne couldn’t possibly have any ulterior motive, want or desire. He wouldn’t look at her like she was air he needed like Xavier, wouldn’t speak words of such gentle longing like Rafayel, wouldn’t stare with such deep hunger like Sylus. Emmie beamed at him unthinkingly, holding the menu loosely and watching him study it like a man going to war.

He glanced up and caught her staring, hazel eyes flashing with a nameless emotion she couldn’t parse. “Have you already decided?”

Immediately she nodded. “Yes, today is the day I try the green onion tea!”

Zayne blinked, a briefly sympathetic cast to his furrowed brow. “Ah, I see.” He tapped his menu down and nodded. “Good luck.”

She offered him a fake salute, preparing to signal the waitress to come back over when a presence leaned over her back. Zayne’s eyes snapped to it, a frown immediately burgeoning.

“Cutie! Fancy seeing you here!”

Emmie turned, heart in her throat just as Rafayel’s hand came down on her shoulder with a thump. “R-raf!”

Shit!

Their awkward conversation in the park had thoroughly upset their dynamic in the week since. Rafayel, lurking closer, off put and confused at her sudden switch. It was maddening!

Smiling, she stood, offering him a hug as was their custom even while she mentally cringed. “What are you doing around here? This is pretty far from your studio!” Seriously, why are you here?!

“I was just in the neighbourhood!” He squeezed her firmly, hands settling lower on her waist than normal. She breathed deep, ready to pull back when his arms tightened briefly, hair tickling her face. Before she could freak out he leaned back and beamed, resting against her shoulder possessively. “Who’s this?”

“Oh!” Brushing her hair aside she attempted to pull away, halted by his fingers firming. “R-rafayel, this is Zayne. He's one of my closest friends!” That the statement was true made her heart ache. Reconnecting for three months…. It should be shameful to admit she had so few other people and yet Zayne had easily become one of the most important figures in her life. Clearing away the maudlin though she turned to him. “This is Rafayel Qi, you might have heard of him?”

Zayne nodded and stood, offering his hand politely. “Yes I remember you mentioning him when you were investigating Raymond.”

Zayne don't-!

Voice cold he continued. “Nice to meet you.”

Rafayel's expression creased, the dismissive, passive aggressive facade he touted at his galleries descending. “You too. That really was some nasty business but luckily my gorgeous miss bodyguard got it all cleared away.” A squeeze around her shoulders. “Isn't that right, cutie?”

Emmie watched Zayne's jaw tighten, saw the barest twitch in his eye. For him, that was practically the equivalent of a shout of rage. “Yes indeed.” His tone was mild but his gaze was anything but. He stared at Rafayel's arm around her shoulder like it was diseased.

Possessive, there was no other term for the way she was being held, or for the way Zayne was staring in return.

Clearing her throat she managed to wiggle away from Rafayel, offering him a slightly strained smile at the wounded look she received in return. “Zayne and I meet for lunch once a week, we keep trying different things on the menu.” A forced chuckle, Emmie saw the exact moment Rafayel’s mouth thinned and something banked flashed over his gaze. Slowly he flicked his gaze between them, hands forming subtle, tense fists.

“Oh? Sounds fun.”

His expression said the complete opposite.

“Haha… have you been here before Raf? Do you have any recommendations? We're always looking to try something new!”

She’d meant it as a kind way to break the ice, to ease the awkwardness and speed this whole thing along. Male friends meeting each other always ended poorly afterall, yet what she didn’t expect was for him to pull out the chair next to her and sit down.

Noooo!!!

“That must mean you’re really knowledgeable, yeah? I’ve only been here once before so I can't help you buuuttt, you can help me then?” A pout, his fingers on the menu and pulling it up. “Guide me miss bodyguard, I need you.”

Emmie chanced a glance at Zayne and nearly flinched. Anyone who thought he was icy before would surely faint from shock now. She could almost feel a physical chill from the banked annoyance in his eyes, the punctuated flex of his jaw. “Oh uh-” There was no polite way to send Rafayel away, and the mulish cast of his face told her he wouldn’t leave on his own. Sitting she pulled her chair back in. “S-sure!” Pleading she stared up at Zayne.

For a moment he stood firm, glaring subtly at her puppy eyes before sighing.

Victory!

Zayne resumed his seat too and folded his hands neatly over his menu. His mouth compressed once, twice, before he exhaled slowly again. Emmie clocked the exact moment he calmed down and decided to be polite, bless his soul. “Do you enjoy sweet things Mr. Qi?”

The dismissive look from the artist was poignant. “Not really, aren’t sweets something children like? And Rafayel is fine.”

Rafayel please!

Emmie wanted to run away. This reminded her of university, of a group project with two guys who’d had a crush on her and yanked her around the entire time.

“I really like sweets!” She spoke up almost desperately. “Nothing wrong with a little sugar, right?” An awkward chuckle, she shuffled forward and began pointing down at menu items. “If sweet isn’t your thing there are lots of other options! Zayne and I are both pretty into desserts but we’ve tried most of their other menu items.” Conspiratorial now. “I was going to try their green onion tea today.”

Rafayel’s look of disgust was visceral. He blinked and studied her. She felt stripped beneath his gaze, weighed and measured, searched and categorized. He seemed… sad. For a moment he went rigid and then he deflated. “Huh…” What he had seen in her face that made him make that expression she couldn’t guess but it….

He looked so hurt.

He deliberately turned away from her and scooted towards Zayne. “Right, not trusting her after learning that.”

“Indeed…” The two men studied each other for a moment before they both leaned in together over the menu. “If I may, the lattes here can be quite lovely.”

Emmie felt all the tension melt out of her body. God she felt like she just passed one of the hardest Deepspace Trials at the Association.

Thank you…

She watched them talk, relaxing more and more while she studied the two of them sitting close together. It was honestly a bit strange to see. Old and new, an odd confluence of her life. They were stiff, measuring each other subtly, but she'd take it.

The thought was interrupted by another presence at her back.

“Oh, this is where you went.” Mild and soft, her head tilted back with dread to see Xavier standing over her, his expression as blank as ever. Emmie could immediately taste the tension in the air. Things since the night of their almost kiss had been… awkward. Weighted. Like Rafayel, Xavier had almost seemed to begin circling her, testing the boundaries of their relationship subtly. Hands that lingered on her back, fingers that brushed when he handed her food… How terrible to come across him now.

Wow, I just can’t catch a break.

“Hey Xavier.” She smiled tiredly. It was hardly odd to see him, afterall, the Destiny Cafe was literally a minute from their office. The two of them ate lunch together nearly everyday, oftentimes with Tara, Simone and Nero. At first, Xavier joining them had been the gossip of the office. Apparently, he’d never bothered to stay around before she came along, a ghost that haunted the Association and flashed in and out at will, barely a presence felt. After the explosion he'd become a fixture, one centered on her.

Her one lunch a week away had always been a non issue. She’d told him on a Thursday and he had just quietly nodded, teleporting away like he used to before they became partners, abandoning the others without a wave back.

Truthfully, Xavier was a very hard man to read, Emmie had never been able to parse how he felt about anything in relation to her. That evening, the closest she had ever gotten. Studying the furrow in his brow she suddenly couldn’t help but shiver.

I think I really stepped in it…

“Cutie, who’s this?”

Emmie caught the flash of something dark at the nickname on her partner's face, watched it turn briefly apocalyptic when Rafayel leaned on her shoulder deliberately once more. Warmth and heat, the scent of his cologne mixing with that of the cafe… It all felt territorial.

“Ah, Rafayel, Zayne, this is my partner, Xavier.”

Zayne nodded politely, having met Xavier briefly the last time she got dragged into Akso after getting smacked into a building. “Nice to see you again Mr. Shen.”

“You as well doctor Li.” Those blue eyes of his drifted to the artist, the two of them sizing each other up in a strange moment of tension. Emmie paused, thought about the Nest and her trip to the N109 Zone and promptly cringed.

Desperate to ease the atmosphere she spoke. “Wanted to try this cafe for lunch too?”

He nodded slowly, barely pausing before grabbing the last free seat and sitting. “Yes.”

Oh no!

“Where are Tara and the others?”

He plucked up the menu and simply shrugged.

Great…

Emmie sent Zayne a sympathetic smile. They’d have to reschedule their lunch some other time since today was clearly a group outing. Clearing her throat she offered both him and Rafayel a nod. “Did you two sort out what you’re getting?”

Please just all be normal.

Sounds of assent, Rafayel leaning back at last and giving her back her shoulder. “He convinced me to try their smoked salmon bagel.”

“Oh! That’s a great choice! You Zayne?”

“The rosewater macarons and their new soup.” He flicked a gaze to each man and then back to her, catching her desperate scream for normalcy. “Still committed to your tea?”

“You bet!”

His faint, small smile relaxed her. She turned then to Xavier, fighting the awkwardness in her chest and nearly startling at just how close he was sitting. He'd scooted his chair over until their elbows were almost touching, a furrow to his brow. “Uh, what about you? Have you been here before? Need any help?”

“No.” The word was soft and punctuated, the menu settling before him lightly.

Zayne signalled the waitress at that, eyes drifting from Xavier to Rafayel and back once more. What he thought about all this she couldn’t even begin to guess but she could see he wasn't alright with it either.

I'm sorry!!

At her elbow the waitress appeared, a beautiful woman with stunning white and blue braids woven down to her waist. Tall and poised, she was a vision and Emmie couldn’t help but stare at. “Hello! I’m Stel, are you all ready to order?”

She tuned out the low rumble of the men’s voices, glancing down to the waitresses' nails with longing. Being a hunter, Emmie could never have her hair that long or her nails that cutely painted but damn, she wanted to. Giving her order she then straightened, nervously flushing. “By the way, I love your hair and nails, they look stunning!”

Immediately the other woman smiled, hands held out and offered sheepishly. “Oh thank you!” She bent, her perfume warm and floral. “If you want, I can tell you where my nail tech is?”

“Oh please!” Emmie nodded eagerly and offered her phone, aware of looks being exchanged over her head. “I’m a hunter so my nails never stay for long but next time I have an event I’d love to get them done!”

“Of course!”

They exchanged numbers, the waitress walking away with a smile and a promise to come back with their order soon. She turned then and met three pairs of eyes, two of which were staring at her in strange contemplation.

Rafayel touched his bangs, brow furrowing. “I think that’s the friendliest I’ve ever seen you.”

“What?” Shrugging, she chuckled. “I’m always friendly!”

Xavier shook his head, leaning with one hand on the table and staring. “No, that really was the friendliest I’ve ever seen you too.” Slowly his eyes trailed to the waitress, his jaw tightening. “Is she… do you think she’s pretty?”

Emmie couldn’t help but blink, staring between Rafayel and Xavier in confusion. “Well of course, she’s gorgeous.” Wrong thing to say. The immediate visceral pouts that flashed were so similar it had her huff out a disbelieving laugh, her gaze trailing to the only man not currently glaring at her. “Z-zayne, help me out here, she was super pretty, right?”

The doctor in question shrugged. “Yes, aesthetically speaking she was very beautiful. She clearly puts a lot of effort into her appearance and it pays off.”

Something in her chest eased, grateful and warmed. “Right?! See, you get it!” Another glance around, the atmosphere frigid.

Rafayel was leaning back, arms crossed and gaze contemplative. “Wow, this might really explain a lot.” He deflated, staring at the ceiling and slumping, hand once more raising to touch his hair like he could manifest a change in it by tugging on it hard enough. “Soooo, you think she’s pretty, huh?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Okay.” Xavier was suddenly closer, his expression tense. “Do you think we’re handsome?”

The question out of left field made her stutter, had her hands going to her napkin and beginning to shred it without thought. “What? I-I mean, yes, you’re all incredibly handsome. It honestly makes no sense that you’re all single.”

Zayne then, voice mellow. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome-”

Rafayel caught her attention, scooting closer. “But handsome isn’t what you like, is it?”He flicked his gaze to the server once more. “You’ve never looked that enthralled when I dress up in formal wear, and I try hard cutie.”

“Huh?” This was beginning to remind her of university once more, of awkward conversations that she was failing at. Emmie wasn’t stupid, she knew what they were angling for, but part of her wanted to play dumb, to stop the looming catastrophe before it barrelled into her like a freight train. Her brain anxiously went over every single interaction of the last terrible weeks at light speed while words dropped from her lips. “I don’t like men so it doesn't really matter to me how you all look.”

A pin could drop in the following silence, punctuated only by the sound of Zayne nonchalantly pulling out his phone to check the time.

“Y-you don’t-” Rafayel looked like he was buffering, rebooting before her in real time with a flush to his cheeks. Devastation flashed briefly before clearing in a wave. “O-oh, well…”

Xavier too, he stilled completely, his jaw tightening and then relaxing, eyes drifting to the other two men and then back. “Okay.” He blinked, almost seemingly girding himself, flicking a glance at the waitress. “Then you like women like her?”

“No.”

They both blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Rafayel leaned in. “Wait, are you just teasing us? What’s wrong with her? You just said-”

“I don’t like women either!” The words blurted out, her face positively burning.

Whatever they had both thought she would say that was clearly not it. Xavier recalibrated faster than Rafayel. “Oh…” He stared in confusion, clearly trying to reorder their interactions in his mind. “But then, that night, why did you-?”

“Ah!” She interrupted him, desperate to stop the question he was clearly about to ask. “Let’s talk about that later, okay?”

Rafayel now. “So, wait… are you just saying you’re picky oooorrr is it just us you don’t like-?”

“I believe that’s enough, don’t you agree?” Zayne’s voice was a soothing balm cutting off that line of questioning before it could even start, his icy demeanor stopping both men cold. “We’re here for lunch after all, not to interrogate someone on their sexual preferences.” He flipped his phone then and offered it to her, a poster on display. It was for a new food tour coming to Linkon. “Would you be interested in coming with me next weekend? I’ll have some availability."

Grateful she breathed out a deep sigh of relief. “Y-yes. Yes Zayne I would love to. We can try all the different dishes!”

A smile, gentler and small. “Of course.”

She was shocked to feel Rafayel lean in around her side and read his phone. “That looks fun-”

“The invitation is for Emmie alone.”

The pout Zayne received in return was legendary. “Come now, don’t be like that. We’re all her friends, riiiggghhhhttt?” A smile, sharklike and pointed. “That means we should be friends too, yeah?”

Emmie couldn’t begin to guess his angle, Xavier slowly nodded and stared at the other two men in contemplation. “Yes… we should be…”

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