snow blankets the world outside, a blissful peace compared to the stifling party inside. she’s trapped behind white marble & beneath baccarat chandeliers, her cheeks sore from smiling as the night goes on. she had imagined such extravagance as a child, dreaming of a heritage of gold ( but living in such excess, albeit all a ruse, never felt so empty ).
now past midnight, she finds herself half listening to ruth’s rambles on her recent vacation in monte carlo. the woman’s drunk, but not drunk enough to let slip anything important. it’s a futile conversation, blue eyes are busy searching the hall instead, trying to spot emerson in the crowd. and he blends in well — just another dark suit next to the many others surrounding him, expensive cufflinks catching the light. but by now his silhouette is burnt inside her mind. she knows him by the broadness of his shoulders, by the sound of his footsteps.
thankfully, she’s able to slip away from ruth as her ramblings hold another unlucky wife captive. tailored elegance in dark vermillion, mila makes her way across the floor to emerson. she exchanges pleasantries with his companions ( smile brightening as she greets the senator ). fingers brush against the underside of emerson’s wrist before sliding her hand into his, meanwhile making an excuse to steal him away for a second.
it’s in the ( suspiciously ) empty corner of the room they escape to. she’s about to ask if he wants another drink when a glance above makes it clear why so many people are shooting sly glances at them.
mrs juliet larosa wears her amused expression well as she steps closer to her husband, but mila is far from amused ( is this another test?). she’s calculating each move to create the flawless scene to feed the wolves.
a hand resting against his chest, she searches his gaze for the go ahead before pressing lips against his. there’s no hesitation, only fake familiarity. fingers tangle in his hair, and she realise how much she likes this. wants to deepen the kiss, heart beating faster —
but she draws away, keeps the kiss short & sweet. thumb rubs away the red smudged onto his lips. it’s a tender moment between two — her voice softens as she calls him dan, saying how she knew she should’ve worn a liquid lipstick instead. and it goes on, this fabrication.
later when she sleeps that night, she dreams of his dark gaze. it feels like being swallowed by obsidian, staring at stars so close & so far away at the same time.
. ✧ . * . ˚ HE’D LIKE TO DIE RIGHT ABOUT NOW. if there was anything that would cause emerson to gouge his own eyes out , it would have to be listening to the senator of a midwestern state. sure , the agent had nothing against the corn belt or the farming community —— but he surely had something against the “ one-percent-ers ” that somehow unsuspiciously end up with most of the revenue and never need the help of TurboTax. but to hear someone go on about their trips to this palm beach then that palm beach and then another palm beach where palm beaches aren’t even fucking native to the environment they’re built in —
her hand is warm. perfect timing , as usual. she was always the best of distractions. emerson’s noticed that her hands were incredibly soft despite all the training and combat situations she’s gone through. the faint smell of nail polish on sunday morning somehow became an endearing habit , something he began to prefer over waking to the smell of coffee. he turned to look at mila , giving her the slightest smile. she is juliet larosa — the one who explained to the other housewives that YES - KATHY , for the last time !! he really does only have one hand. and NO - MARTHA , for the last time , his amputation doesn’t effect their goddamn sex life.
the group began to laugh but emerson was grinning for an entirely different reason. his gaze remained locked on mila , he gave up alcohol since joining the cia , yet he was drunk. the very atmosphere gave to a strange desire that he had when he was a young adult — to play as a rich man with a beautiful wife and a beautiful home. with a beautiful this and a beautiful that , and enjoying his beautiful those with some beautiful these. though perhaps the reality is far more interesting , the narrative of two agents joining forces to gain intel on the country’s strangest machination under guise of the farming industry. said agents-playing-pretend end up in the mistletoe corner , and maybe emerson does get lost in her eyes after a soft yet chaste kiss — his smile still evident as she rambles and wipes Uncensored! by Fenty Beauty off of his lips. perhaps he does have the urge to go in again , surely there’d be no harm in that? her blue eyes are so easy to get lost in — especially when she smiles at him like that , her hands on his chest and a slight flush on her cheeks as the crowd around them looked on adoringly and cheered them on.
when they’re back home , however , the feeling is muddled in confusion. daniel and julia larosa revert back into agent emerson and agent mila — strictly professional and in fact , emerson was laying right next to her as he thought of how easy it would be to take advantage of her hindering heart. it’s no easy game to play even when done earnestly — love is easy to mold and manipulate for the cold-hearted. others find it difficult to compartmentalize the fact that having the upper hand over an agent would mean having the utmost control in any situation that could arise.
two people , trained to lose their sense of feeling in order to lie for the greater good.
the greater good. that’s what this is for.
