Blacklight - R [COMPLETED]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had just finished suiting up in dark jeans and a t-shirt, trying to look as casual as possible for their ‘pick up’ tonight at the grow house. He had finalized each and every detail, and all they had to do at this point was bring along their own weapons for quick use. Elijah had stuffed a revolver in the waist band of his pants, perfectly concealed and easily obtainable. He hadn’t spoken with Landry about the change of plans, mostly because he was more concerned with actually getting the job done, rather than seeking approval. Elijah knew exactly what he was doing, and therefore didn’t need the older man telling him how to handle a relatively simple situation. The only person he had to tell was Emma, and conveniently, she walked straight through the door just as he patted down his vest from underneath his clothing to make sure it was properly secured.

“Get dressed – we have to head out.” Elijah glanced down at his watch momentarily to see it was five to seven, the optimal time to drive over.
"Head out where?" She asked, "I have some news for you too."
“The grow house. We’re changing the plan,” he explained. “Tell me in the car.”

As curious as he was to hear what she had to say, Elijah didn’t want them leaving too late, when the Red Light District officially became a battle zone. It’s not like they needed any extra trouble next to overtaking a drug warehouse.

"Didn't Landry say we have to wait a few weeks?" Emma sighed, "We can't change the plan, Elijah."
“Of course we can, when the grow house is planning on moving in two days.”
"Well...that’s unfortunate. Okay, then, what's the plan?"
“For starters, you’ll refer to me as Jackson once we get there and you’re my business partner. We’re purchasing 28 grams of weed.”
"Naww, I'm not your wife again? That's disappointing."
Elijah grinned before patting her shoulder. “Not this time, sweetheart, unfortunately for you.”
"Yea, sure, unfortunately for me."

She soon disappeared down the hallway, taking approximately five minutes to properly dress before returning to him. They eventually gathered up everything they would need, the car waiting for them as Elijah took shotgun, Emma in the passenger.

“So what’s the news?” he questioned once they were out of the car lot and soaring at a comfortable distance in the air. Elijah had hardly kept off his feet by the time she went to Connie, the yearning for news practically gnawing at his insides.
Emma shifted in her seat to face him, "I wouldn't break out the fathering books just yet if I were you."
He couldn’t find the words to express how relieved he was at that very moment in time, a deep sigh escaping his lungs as he leaned back in his seat. “Thank fucking—“ he paused, shaking his head. “Greatest news of my life.”
"Amanda was pregnant, but not by you. She made Connie pretend that she was expecting your child, just to mess with not only you, but me too. Honestly, though, Elijah - it was physically freaking impossible for her to get knocked up the morning after you screwed her. It doesn't happen that quickly."

Elijah cursed silently. Who the hell woke up one morning and decided she’d pretend to be pregnant just to screw around with someone? Amanda definitely wasn’t all there, and if it weren’t for his looks, he doubted she’d have anything going for her.

“Crazy bitch,” he muttered. “And it’s not like I’d know anything about that, considering I’ve never been in the situation before.”
"Neither have I, but it's kind of common sense."
“If it was common sense, wouldn’t you have told me right away?” Elijah retorted, arching an eyebrow at her.

The region known was the Red Light District was quickly coming into view, women working on corners as disheveled houses stood uncomfortably close together. Elijah wondered how much they could accomplish without Landry knowing they were gone.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Emma shrugged, “I didn’t tell you straight away because…well…I wanted to watch you suffer, just for a little while. It took the wind out of your sails that’s for sure.”
"How pleasant of you," Elijah responded.
“You have to admit, it scared the fuck out of you, didn’t it?” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I went three whole days without a sarcastic comment. It was peaceful.”
"So that's your solution to shut me up?" Elijah questioned, fighting a grin. "If I didn't think you were twisted in the beginning, I definitely do now."
“Beautifully twisted,” Emma agreed. “Next time you piss me off, I’m going to tell you I’m pregnant with your child – you’d probably believe me, too.”
"I'm sure you'd love to have me inside you," he quipped back, grinning at his own innuendo.

Emma gaped at his crudeness, then reached over and flicked at his nose, only making him laugh again. “You’re vile.”
“And you love it.”
“Do I really?”
“Fuck yes, you and your tight, sexy ass love it.”
“You think my ass is sexy, hmm?” Emma asked, watching the passing streets as they moved through downtown D-79. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
"From what I saw, it most definitely is," Elijah responded. "And why do you think that?"
She arched a brow. “Are you telling me that you don’t?”
"I don't know," he shrugged. "Why does it matter?"

Emma turned back to him, her eyes tracing his features. “It doesn’t. It was only a question.”
Elijah stared at her for a long moment before shrugging casually. "Alright."

When they looked away from each other, Emma felt a shadow of something looming over her. It wasn’t a sensation she was accustomed to, and it left her feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Everything was quickly pushed to the back of her mind, however, when Elijah pulled up outside an old warehouse streaked in darkness. There wasn’t a single light on in any of the broken windows and there was no sign of any life.
“So…” Emma whispered, not taking her eyes off the building. “What’s your plan?”
"I'm a drug dealer named Jackson and I'm picking up a special delivery. As soon as we get in, we take them out. There's about a dozen on duty tonight so it shouldn't be all too complicated. We shoot them with the temporary paralysation bullets and call over back up to make the arrests."

Emma felt for her gun hidden on the inside of her jacket and the spare bullets tapped to the side of her bra. Check and check. Then, she reached into the glove box in front of her and pulled out a small phone. It’s a good job they were stored in every car.
“Okay, that sounds possible. How do you know how many are on duty?”
"I researched everything before hand," he admitted.
So, the monkey did have a brain after all.

“Okay, let’s get this done.”
They climbed out of the car and walked silently toward the large, double doors of the warehouse. Elijah rapped on the door in a rhythm, only to be greeted by the continuous silence. Five seconds turned into ten, and ten into twenty, it was almost a minute later when sound finally reached her ears.
Someone was unlocking the doors.

The door creaked open a jar, giving Emma a taste of the black view on the inside.
“Name?” A faceless voice asked from the darkness.
“Jackson.” Elijah answered, his tone hard.
“And the girl?”
“My business partner. She was mentioned.”
A brief pause, then, “Confirmed.”

The doors creaked open and Emma and Elijah stepped into the warehouse without hesitation.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Upon entering, the entire room appeared to be industrialized, metal stairs leading up into an entire second level, although from where he was standing, the railings were easily visible from the ground floor. As suspected, he ran into four workers off the bat, tying down dime bags, taping up packages and arranging mounds of marijuana into specific groups. Emma remained close by his side, the scrawny man he assumed had been on the phone with him, soon appearing with a dark bag.

“Hand over the money, and you’ll get the bag,” he ordered, his shirt at least three sizes too big. His dark hair, or what was left of it, was slicked back, dark eyes staring at him expectantly.
“Can I see the merchandise first?” Elijah suggested, giving Emma one glance so she could prepare for attack. She nodded sharply, her arms casually crossed over her jacket.
The worker looked like he wanted to narrow his eyes at the agent, but obliged nonetheless as he pried open the plastic container, the drugs situated in at least eight tinier bags. “We grow the finest in the city. There is no other place that could offer you better.”

Elijah strolled over to him, pretending to survey the bag closely before quickly unleashing his gun and puncturing him right in the leg without having to think about it. The man screamed out in pain before crumpling to the floor, trying to move his limbs but frozen in that position as he backed away.

As expected, this drew the attention of others, and suddenly the entire room was in disarray as Emma rushed to grab a girl trying to flee. In five seconds, no more, she was on the ground, Emma pinning her there before clipping an invisible cuff around her wrists. They easily took out the last two workers in that room, the pair not wasting anytime pushing open the door to the next.

Rows and rows of dark green plants, brightly lit by lamps shrouded the room, although not a soul was visible. Elijah suspected they were playing hide and seek, mapping out the perfect moment to ambush him. Emma pressed her back against his, her gun cocked as they protected each other from any unwanted bullets, although their attempts were in vain once the room continued to fill with silence.

“We need to split up,” Elijah said. “There’s too much opportunity for them to flee if we’re together.”
Emma was on the same page, grunting in approval before rushing off to the east side of the room and swinging open the door that remained there. He checked the room one final time before taking the double doors on the north end, and kicking is open as he crouched against the wall, peering into the space.

A rainstorm of bullets flew in his direction, one narrowly missing his head as he dove behind a metal table, barely having to look at his first target before nailing him directly in the arm with the paralyzation bullet. Thankfully he was the only one that appeared to be in the room, and in a few moments Elijah was reloading and trailing into the following door.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Emma carefully treaded into the empty room, her ever watchful eyes switching back and forth between the two open doorways on either side. The hairs on the back of her neck were on end and her muscles grew more tense with every step, which was normally her bodies way of telling her that something wasn’t right, that any minute now-
A flash of movement caught her eye from the left doorway, a brief second before a force hit her on from the right. The smell of stale smoke and beer hit her in the same instant the woman did, with her nails digging into any part of Emma’s body it could reach. Thankfully, Emma’s jacket took most of the heat as she found herself being thrust back into the nearest wall, the drug induced woman driving her against it.

Raising her leg into the air, she slammed her knee into the woman’s gut and backhanded her when she fell face first towards her, sending her sprawling to the floor like a doll. One paralysation bullet and she wasn’t a problem anymore.

The thick iron door she’d walked through not a minute ago suddenly slammed shut, trapping her inside. Behind it she could hear the faint sound of bullets hitting brick and metal, but no humans sounds, which could only mean the bullets were missing their Elijah shaped target. Right?

A small clicking sound met her ears, echoing off the empty walls a lot louder than it would anywhere else. Without a thought, Emma leapt upward, grabbing hold of one of many pipes travelling across the length of the wall and swung herself out of the path of the flying bullet. It slammed into the place where she’d been, cracked paint and stone falling away around it.
Emma landed with cat like elegance, her gaze locking onto the two men in the room where the woman had run from, the same glassy eyed look to them. She could just about make out the barest hint of smoke in the air behind them as the guy holding the gun fiddled with his bullets, forcing them into the chamber one at a time with clumsy fingers. The second one was busy stuffing his stash into his rucksack, his expression panicked.

Naturally, the guy didn’t get to load his gun. Like Emma was going to stand there and wait for that to happen.
One paralysation bullet to his shoulder (and a punch for good measure) and the guy was down, sleeping like a big, fat, ugly baby.

The second man looked at his smoking buddy with a new sense of panic. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”
“How about we do this easy?” Emma asked him. “I’ll shoot you with my happy nap time bullets and we’ll forget this ever happened? Well, until you wake up in a cell that is.”
“No fucking way, man. I am not going back to prison. No, no, no, no,” With each word he rocked him self back and forth, his rucksack hugged tightly into his chest. “I just spent all my shit on this stuff. It’s mine, man. Mine.”
“You can keep it,” She shrugged, “For now, at least.”
“NO!”

The same time his scream hit her ears, Emma heard the iron door re-opening behind her, quickly followed by, “In here, we saw one of them head in here!”
Shit.
Not wanting to chit-chat anymore, she shot the screamer in the arm and took off for the only door she could see. Thankfully, it brought her back to the plant room, where Elijah was no where to do found.
But there was a fire to greet her.
A small orange flame was rapidly growing and making its way through the green leaves, eating them up fast and filling the room with a thick, white smoke.

Unfortunately, it had the exact same reaction that it did nine years ago when she’d first tried it. Her vision blurred instantly, and with every breath her skull ached more, but Emma forced herself deeper into the smoke, knowing that the door her and Elijah had come through was close by.
She just about saw it’s dark outline through the fog when something small hit her back, sending a jolt of electricity through her body and rendering her muscles useless.

Emma fell to the floor like a sack of bricks.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}{name:Emma#|#picture:18}{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Elijah had efficiently taken out the remaining three criminals before a pungent smell instigated his nose. At first, he assumed it was simply the high volume of marijuana, but when the stench intensified, the building growing hotter, he could only assume one thing – someone had lit this shit on fire. Just when the finish line was in place, another complication had been thrown into the mix. And then another startling fact hit him – where the hell was Emma? Damn!

He darted towards the door, reaching out for the handle, but was taken aback by the clenching of fingers around his throat, like a metal clamp. Stunned, Elijah tried to whirl around but the figure had thrown him to the floor, aiming a gun directly at his head. Once his vision stabilized, he realized a woman dressed sharply in red – her chestnut hair in silky tufts extending to her jaw line. It didn’t take long for him to realize she had been a long impeached member of the mayor’s house, hearing vaguely about her money scandals a few years back. Apparently she had been cutting into the city’s funds each month for her own personal needs.

…And now she was pointing a gun at his temple in the heart of a burning grow house. Who would have thought?

“You son of a bitch,” she spat, the veins pulsating in her neck. “You just had ruin everything! Everything I’ve ever worked for!”
“I hardly doubt you worked for anything,” Elijah retorted. “Unless pointing your finger is considered work.”
She pressed the barrel against his head, her teeth grinding together irritably. “I wouldn’t be pushing your luck around someone with a loaded gun, kid.”

Honestly, he had no idea why he was even entertaining her attempts at trying to scare him. Elijah had other things he had to take care of, like getting out of a building that could crumple any second. So, in a quick movement he flew to his feet, twisting the weapon out of her hand easily as she cried out in pain. Elijah then shot her with the paralyzation bullet, a beam simultaneously crashing down several feet away from him.

Smoke continued to slip up from underneath the door, plaguing the room in toxic gas as he coughed out, his throat constricting. Elijah then noticed a door on the northern end that led out into the back alleys as the grow house continued to fall apart, flames consuming it. For a split second, he considered rushing out into the night and saving himself, like he had been used to doing, but as soon as his fingers grasped the cool steel, something else welled in his chest.

Elijah had no idea if Emma made it out, but he didn’t want to find out whether or not she had by the time the house was long gone in ashes. He clenched his jaw before spinning on his feet and using his shoulder to knock down the double doors, back into the previous room, the orange fire licking at his face as he attempted to maneuver around the fire and survey the area. Elijah let out another storm of coughs, feeling his chest tighten as he kicked fallen plants and burning furniture away from his path.

His eyes softened at the sight of Emma sprawled along the floor, although he wasted no time scooping her body up in his arms as he dashed through those doors just as another patch of ceiling gave away, pieces of shattered glass and metal splintering his face as he attempted to shield it while making sure his partner was perfectly safe in his grasp.

Miraculously, they had both made it out of the tiny door that lead into a back alley, ash and soot smeared across their faces. Elijah felt like falling over by the time they made it back to the car safely, his mind dizzy.

But as soon as his eyes dropped to her lidded ones, nothing felt like it mattered, not his pain, or the way his muscles ached, or how he had almost risked his life to haul her ass out of there. Right now, fear, true, genuine fear, an emotion he hadn't truly felt since his best friend died in the military, overwhelmed him at the sight of her hardly breathing, her chest moving very slightly.
“Emma?” he called, shaking her softly.

She didn’t move.

“Emma, god fucking damn it. If this is your way to screw with me again, this isn’t funny. It’s sick, and completely fucked up, and—“

She didn’t even twitch.

Elijah automatically went into panic mode, tilting her jaw towards his as he pressed his lips to hers, trying to blow all the air he could muster into her lungs. Nothing.
His fingers were twitching by the time he reached for the phone in the front compartment of the car, his limbs hardly keeping up with the speed of his mind as he fumbled along each button, struggling to type in the number for the emergency sector of the agency.

“H-hello?” Elijah’s voice was hoarse. “I need an ambulance, now. My partner’s passed out on A6173 in the Red Light District and she needs immediate help.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The small echo of voices was the first thing to reach Emma’s dishevelled senses, pulling her free from the darkness of her mind. Unfortunately, her pain awakened along with her.

She swallowed and winched; her throat felt like it was made up of nothing but razor blades, her every breath hurting more than the last.
“Emma?” The female voice was tender as she called to her.
Her eyelids felt as though they were pinned down when she gradually opened them, the room she was in coming into view.
Somehow, she’d ended up in a room in MedLabs, a blank white room with no windows and only one entrance in and out. Connie was stood at the foot of her bed, smiling down at her warmly.
“Hello, Emma. Good to finally see you again.”

A frown creased her brows. What the hell was going on?
“W-What am I doing here?” Her voice sounded hoarse and raw, the razor blades grating at her voice box.
“You got into a spot of bother at the drugs warehouse, Emma. Don’t you remember?”

The warehouse.
Memories of the smoke, the sight and smell of the plants burning, of the spark jolt of pain in her back…then, nothing.
She let out a groan and raised her hand to her throat, “Jesus Christ. There was so much smoke, and…” Suddenly, a thought forced its way to the front of her mind, then past her lips. “Elijah?”
Connie’s smile grew as she moved around the bed to Emma’s side, her hands deep in her white lab coat. “Elijah is fine, apart from a slight sore throat. He’s the one that got you out of the building.”
“He is?” She asked, amazed. That was something that would take some processing.
Elijah had gone back for her and actually pulled her from a burning building. Wow. If that wasn’t a mind blower, she didn’t know what was.

“Mhmm. He’s just gone to get himself a coffee, but he’s been here all-“
“That fucking machine is a pile of junk. Every time I’ve used it it’s decided to spew it’s sugar guts out.” The familiar male voice trailed into the room a second before he did.
He paused in the doorway when he saw that she was awake, a flicker of something close to happiness and relief flashing across his face before it quickly disappeared. But Emma caught it, leaving her more confused than she was before.

Casually, he strolled around to the other side of her bed, to a chair that was positioned toward beside her, the leather creased from where someone had been sat in it. Only then did Emma notice the empty coffee cups and chip packets in the bin next to it.
“So, you’ve finally decided to wake up?” Elijah asked her, taking the seat. “About time. That was one long nap.”
The coffee cup in his hand was the same kind as was in the bin.
“And you’ve come to see me?” She croaked, “How kind of you.”
Connie opened her mouth to speak, but Elijah quickly got in there first. He shrugged, “I was bored in the apartment by my self and the coffee up here is nice.”
Connie raised a questioning brow. “So are the chips, right, Elijah?”
The two shared a quick knowing stare across the bed.

Emma tried to clear her throat, “Okay…um…do you mind if I have a word with Elijah, alone, Connie? I want to ask a few questions about…when was it?”
“Last night,” Connie reassured her. “You’ve only been out a day.”
She nodded, “Okay. Do you mind?”
“Don’t strain yourself too much, Emma.” And with that, the smiling MedHead left the two of them alone, taking the time to close the door behind her.

“Thank you,” Emma said after a moment of silence. “Connie told me that you got me out of the warehouse last night. Thank you.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah wanted to believe he had gone through all the trouble of saving Emma solely because he couldn’t mentally withstand another person dying under his watch. Losing his only best friend at twenty three had caused a major rough patch for him for quite a portion of his life, and he would be damned if he let fate repeat itself.

Shrugging, he took another sip of the scalding coffee. “We’re partners, and that’s what they’re supposed to do, right?”
"I don't know, I've never had a partner before. But I do know that anyone else would have left me there."
“I couldn’t do that to you,” Elijah admitted, glancing down at the rim of his cup.
He couldn’t fathom why practically everyone had built up this hatred for Emma, when all she seemed like was slightly antisocial. The only conclusion he came to that made a shred of sense was jealousy, considering she had been able to climb her way to the top with absolutely no aid. Or at least he could safely assume that from what he had seen and heard.

"Why not?" She asked.
“You’ve worked too hard to get to the top, just to die because of a case I fucked up on.” Elijah hadn’t been entirely honest about the mission, and after having his head chewed out by Landry for nearly an hour in his office, he had come to the realization it was his fault the grow house had burned down, along with potential witnesses that could have revealed the true owners of the drug ring.

If he had just gotten back up, and tried not being the fucking hero all the time, maybe they wouldn’t be here. Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, fatigue and stress beginning to overwhelm him.

"That wasn't your fault," Emma said with a small shake of her head. "If we'd waited it would have been too late. Plus, I got myself into that situation, I was careless."
He wasn’t completely sold, but nodded nonetheless for the sake of argument. Yes, last night was a of ‘now or never’ situation, but it was his responsibility to inform Landry of back up. Regardless of what she told him, he still felt that uncomfortable pit in the center of his stomach.

“You’re…okay, though?” Elijah felt awkward asking, which was ridiculous seeing how he hadn’t felt that way since like the fourth grade. His eyes looked everywhere but her face.
A smile tugged at her lips, "No, I died. This is just an illusion you're seeing. A really good one."
“Hah,” Elijah responded with a small eye roll, although a genuine snicker escaped his lips.

After several seconds of peaceful silence, he chanced glancing over at her, snuggled under the sheets. She was a little paler, but even within minutes, her color was gradually returning. “When are you coming back to the apartment? I’m sick of having no one to piss off anymore.” A tiny grin tugged at his lips before taking another long sip.

"Now, hopefully. I don't like it in here."
“Because you miss me, right?” Elijah teased, tossing the empty cup into the garbage can.
"So, so much. If I have to stay here, will you stay with me?" Emma blinked up him, trying to keep from smiling.
He leaned over, trying to hide his face so she wouldn’t see him trying to hold back his laughter. Elijah felt nearly delirious with lack of sleep. “What’s another hour? I’ve already endured five.”
"Five?" Emma asked.

He nodded nonchalantly. “I considered going to bed, but then I realized you would absolutely enjoy waking up to my beautiful face.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Much to Connie’s annoyance, Emma left just over an hour later with Elijah and headed straight down to the apartment. Jacob had tried to talk to them on the way down via his handy speakers lining each and every hallway, but Emma was hardly in the mood for the concerned man. Every time he’d asked how she was, Elijah would roll his eyes.

Once they’d closed the door, he muttered, “That man is most definitely in love with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Jacob is just doing his job, that’s all.”
“Mhmm, sure. So, if our roles had been reversed, he’d be asking how I was feeling all the way down here?”
With a light sigh, Emma dropped down onto the sofa, feeling achy and exhausted. “No, because you were rude to him yesterday.”
“He’s a kiss ass.”
She rolled onto her back to watch him. “Why does he bother you so much? Jacob has never done anything wrong to you.”
Elijah opened the fridge and pulled out a cold beer. "Oh yeah, he's done nothing wrong except question my skills and act like I'm the worse person to have entered into your life since Amanda."
“He only questioned you because you spend too much time sleeping with women, and Amanda’s not in my life, she’s an annoying presence on the side lines.”
Elijah shrugged. "Well, last time I checked, what happened in my private life didn't effect my level of efficiency in my professional one."
She shot him a levelling stare, “Really? It did this week, when you thought Amanda was pregnant.”
"You mean, faking a pregnancy. Which only confirms the fact I'm way too careful to ever knock a girl up."

Emma made room for him on the sofa, while making herself comfortable on one of the plush cushions. “Have you spoken to her yet?” She asked, hoping he’d get that she was talking about Amanda.
"I don't want to," Elijah admitted, "because I know I'll fucking blow up."
That was definitely something she wanted to see. “But what if she shows up? What then?”
"Then I'll deal with it, but for now, I'm perfectly fine with ignoring her."

She shook her head in disbelief.
Elijah was the most complicated man she’d ever met. Anyone else would have wanted to confront Amanda immediately, to make her aware that the truth was known, but not him, oh no. He wanted to simply leave the problem alone until it reared it’s ugly head once more – and Amanda would most definitely rear her head again soon. After all, according to her Elijah was still preparing for fatherhood.

Emma yawned, fighting back the wave of exhaustion tugging at her. “I’m hungry,” She mused.
"Is that my cue to get you something?" Elijah questioned, amused.
“Mhmm,” She nodded.
Elijah rolled his eyes and pushed up from the sofa. “Fine. What do you want?”

Emma smiled to herself; this was one of those moments that she’d remember for a while – Elijah getting food for her.
“Do we have any chocolate?”
He turned the TV on for her before heading for the kitchen. “Yea, but it’s mine.”
“Can I have some? I’ll buy you more tomorrow.”
Elijah opened the fridge and peered into its contents, his fingers tapping at the door. “But it’s mine.”
“So…you’re not going to let me have some?” She frowned, burying her face deeper into the cushion. “That’s mean, Elijah. I almost died last night and you wont let me even have a nibble.”

When she looked up from the cushion again, he was stood over the sofa, his half eaten block of chocolate outstretched toward her.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

The following weeks had gone relatively smoothly, November coming to a close before December entered. The first bits of snow officially began to make its descent above The Underground, annoying Christmas advertisements already plaguing the television. Elijah and Emma had received more small missions, from undertaking mobsters, to identity theft cases and hackers. All in all, it had been quiet around the agency, no big cases since the light scare coming to the forefront. Of course this made Elijah restless, the urge for excitement and thrill never seizing to overwhelm him.

After coming back from the gym on a Friday evening, he threw a towel over his shoulder, finding Emma slung across the couch under a blanket as she aimlessly went through the channels. A bucket of popcorn resided in her arms, hair slicked up in a high bun.

Elijah intended on going out to a local bar tonight for some shots, maybe a little dancing and good conversation, eager to get out again after working the entire week. He seldom spent Fridays cooped up inside unless he was sick, terribly hungover, or injured.

“Don’t you ever get tired of staying home all the time?” he questioned, after taking a quick shower before changing into a henley-styled shirt and dark jeans.
"Not really. Why would I?"
“Well, you know, a world exists outside of your apartment, Emma,” Elijah teased, preparing a pre-shot in the kitchen.
She gasped, "Does it?! Oh, Elijah, thank you for telling me that vital information"
Elijah pointed his glass at her, “Sarcasm isn’t nice. I’m mildly hurt. But you should come with me tonight.” He swallowed the Jack Daniels with a wince before placing the glass in the sink. She really needed to get out more.
“I wouldn’t want to cramp your style, Elijah."

Elijah trailed back into the living room, batting his lashes with doe eyes. “You’ll enjoy it.”
“I will not enjoy it,” she retorted. “There’s nothing enjoyable about drunken men trying to cop a feel.”
He blocked the television, which ended up being pretty successful considering he was a stocky 6’4”. “Come with me. Or I will annoy you forever, until the end of time, for eternity, and any other phrases similar.”
She reached over to slap his leg. “Move you telephone pole!”
“Emma, Emma, Emma, don’t you think I’m immune to the height jokes by now? That's so fifth grade. Come!” Elijah extended his hand for her to grab, waiting for what felt like two whole minutes before she rolled back her head, letting out a loud groan, before pushing away his arm and standing on her own.

“If you don’t mind going home the second I’m not enjoying myself, I’ll go.”
“Deal,” Elijah responded with a smirk.

In about fifteen minutes, he had been impatiently waiting on the couch by the time Emma returned in a black halter top, matching skirt, and nearly sheer leggings underneath. Her hair was captured in an updo, bang sweeping across her eyes as she frowned at him slightly.
Elijah examined her from head to toe, feeling that same shock he had felt the day she stepped out in a bathing suit, hardly finding the words once she cleared her throat.

“You look…nice.” Understatement of the century.
She looked down at herself, "Thanks?"

It was obvious she wasn’t used to compliments, not like Elijah dished them out regularly, but he simply nodded, dusting off his jeans before heading towards the door.

“You ready?”
“Not really – I’m being forced to go somewhere against my will, so why would I be ready?”
Elijah rolled his eyes, before gripping her wrist lightly. “Christ, you’re acting like I’m dragging you to the fucking electric chair.”
“Do I have a choice between the two?”

He chose not to answer, practically pushing her out the door.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The bar was everything Emma hated – loud pounding music, a wave of bodies, all drunk or drinking. Elijah looked as though he was in his element, winking at women as he passed and grinning like he’d already hit the lottery. Emma recognised faces from work, many of which gave her funny expressions when they spotted her.
Then, there were faces at the bar that she’d hoped not to see.

Amanda, Nigel, Ray and two other goons burst into hysterical laughter when Emma moved to the bar beside Elijah. The only one who didn’t laugh was the rookie she’d met a few weeks ago, Leroy, if she recalled correctly.
That was a shame. He’d seemed like a nice guy, only to be drawn into Nigel’s posse; they’d poison him soon enough.

Elijah seemed to ignore their presence completely, which probably came down to his last meeting with Amanda. Like Emma had predicted, she’d visited their apartment again, with supposed times for meetings with doctors. Needles to say, the meeting hadn’t been a happy one, and in less than thirty seconds Elijah had slammed the door shut in her stunned face.

“Here,” He slid a drink at her. “Drink this, sweetheart. It’ll loosen you up.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.” Elijah winked.
“You’re not going to drug me, are you?”
The glitter in his eyes made her suspicious. “Now, would I do that?”
Something inside her told her he would.

Ordering his second drink after downing his first, Elijah turned to face the sea of people dancing and asked, “See? This is fun, isn’t it?”
Emma sipped at her drink, only to quickly abandon it. She wasn’t much of a drinker; after seeing what it had done to her mother over the years, she couldn’t say she missed it either.
“Yea, I’m having so much fun I could die.”
“There’s that sarcasm that I love so much,” Elijah said, with a roll of his eyes. “How about we go for a da-“
When he didn’t finish, Emma looked up at him, only to find him staring intently at a brunette who was staring right back at him. She figured him to come to her, a seductive glint in her eye.
“Elijah?” She nudged at his arm.
“Hmm?”
“What were you saying?”
“I…I…what? I said what?” He didn’t take his eyes off the girl.
“You said ‘how about we go for a…?’ What was it?”
“Yea, definitely. I think so too.”

Emma sighed. What was the point? She’d lost him already.
“Just go.”
“Mhmm…” Then, he pushed up from the bar and strolled toward the girl, leaving Emma alone at the bar.
Amanda’s shriek of a laugh met her ears when Elijah met up with the girl. “Ditched already!” She vaguely made out the words over the music.

Alone at the bar, Emma felt a sense of humiliation. It was reasons like these that Emma didn’t come to bars in the first place, they made her feel out of place and awkward. People came to places like this in couples or groups, while the ones that came alone, came to drowned their sorrows.
Emma didn’t have sorrows, but being sat on her own with a drink she didn’t want made her feel like she should.

Pushing up from the stool, Emma ventured off to the bathroom; only, when she came back out, being alone wasn’t her problem any longer.

Leroy pushed up from the wall when she exited the bathroom, his handsome face smiling at her wildly. “Emma, hi!”
She looked around for Amanda or Nigel, but the guy appeared to have walked off on his own. “Hi, Leroy.”
“I’ve never seen you here before, and Jesus Christ you look hot. I’m getting happy time in my pants just looking at you.”
And with that, Emma knew he was drunk. Great.

With a forced smile, she tried to move around him. “Thanks…I guess.”
One hot hand caught her around the waist and immediately dragged her to him. “Elijah is a fucking moron, I gotta say. When I saw him come in with you…I thought he was…like…screwing you or something, but then he walked off to dance with that ugly brunette.” Leroy took in a deep breath, his face turning into pure pleasure. “Fuck, you smell amazing.”

His body suddenly pushed up against hers so closely made every muscle tense up. Leroy’s hot breath blew out across her cheek, before his lips dropped to her neck.
Emma pushed at his chest, “Get off me, Leroy.”
“You want this, Em, I know you do.” His hands were everywhere at the same time, gripping at her hips, her back. “Amanda told me you how you feel.”

Leroy’s touch had goosebumps rising up all over her skin, and visions shooting through her head. There was a reason she’d stayed away from men for so long, why sex had never been an option for her. The same thing had happened when Jacob had touched her, too.
Images of her mother, pinned to a bed and subjected to a man’s wants, again and again, in many different and horrifying ways, with stranger after stranger, shot through her brain. Jennifer’s screams, in both pleasure and pain, echoed through her head. Then, attentions had shifted to Emma as she’d gotten older – terrifying her and infuriating her jealous mother. They’d barely got the chance to touch her before she’d run from them and hidden.

She found the strength in her arms again, “Let. Go,”
“Gods, I want you so fucking badly. Can’t you feel how much I want you, Emma?” His hips thrust out against hers, showing her.
“Stop it!” Emma pushed, hard.
Leroy stumbled backwards, the hold he’d had on her halter staying true, however. The material ripped easily under his grip, Emma had to quickly reach up to hold it in place.

He looked at her, stunned by his own actions. “Emma…I...I’m so sorry.”

Emma used her free hand to slap him. “What’s wrong with you?! I told you to get off me!”
She didn’t want to give him the time to apologise, and clutching her halter up, Emma pushed through the crowd, uncaring of where Elijah and his new woman were, and ran to the only safe place she had.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah#|#picture:17}

The brunette turned out being as interesting as a doorknob, and after one uncomfortable dance, Elijah took her number with no intents of calling back before heading towards the bar to see Emma’s stool empty. Had she gone to the bathroom or something? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, glancing towards Amanda’s group, a drunken Leroy stumbling next to Nigel before falling against the bar. Apparently he was the latest rookie, some twenty-something year old out of San Angeles, or at least Elijah had heard from lunch conversations.

“Where’s Emma?” he asked Nigel, ignoring Amanda completely. She was the last person he wanted to indulge after their explosive encounter.
“Man, who cares? She got exactly what she deserved, being a complete social recluse and all.”
His eyes slightly widened, before being quickly replaced by anger. In one second, he gripped his shirt, pushing him against the bar. “What the fuck did you do Nigel?!”
The blonde actually looked mildly scared, blue eyes glancing over at Leroy. “Chill out, man! Le-Leroy did it! Not me!”

What the hell did he do? What were they even talking about? And how did Elijah not realize what was going on? He had been gone for five or so minutes at most!

“Where is she,” Elijah repeated, his tone growing increasingly impatient, which he was sure had showed. Technically it was his responsibility to make sure she was fine in a new environment, and of course Nigel and his group of morons who acted like high schoolers for their age would have tried something while he was gone. After several seconds of silence, his fist collided with Nigel’s nose, a stream of blood gushing as Amanda let out a surprised shriek. “I’m not asking again!”

Elijah wasn’t going after Leroy for two reasons – one, Nigel annoyed the fuck out of him to begin with, and two, he wasn’t sold the rookie would have done something like that himself…he had to have been manipulated.

“I saw her go outside!” Nigel shouted, pushing Elijah off of him. “Damn! Are you screwing around with her or something?”
He didn’t answer, quickly turning on his heel as he forced his way past bodies pressing against each other until the cool sting of the air washed over his face, the streetlights dimly illuminating the street.

Elijah rapidly looked both ways before noticing a familiar red head, walking, well more like half jogging, down the street.
“Emma! Slow down!” he called out, chasing her down the street until he was about level with her, trying to keep up with her fast pace. “Where are you going?”
Either she had heard him, or was deciding to ignore him.
Elijah automatically knew there was a large piece he was completely missing. “What’s wrong? Why are you leaving?”
"I'm going home. I need to go home."

Elijah cut in front of her, gripping her shoulders as he tried to look into her eyes for some sort of clue. “What did they do, Emma?”
"Please let me pass, Elijah. I can't do this with you right now. Just...not now." She pushed past him, her arms crossed over her chest. He was becoming increasingly disturbed with the prospect of what might have happened while he was gone, but even then, he didn’t want to push something out of her she didn’t want to talk about.

“E-Emma,” he called out after her. “At least let me drive you home.”
"Go back to the bar, Elijah. I don't need a lift."
“I don’t want to leave you here, Emma! Just let me take you back home.”
"Why do you care so much?" She snapped, "You didn't when you left me sat there alone to go chase that woman."

Elijah paused, a tiny frown tugging at his lips. “Don’t be like that, Emma. That’s what you do at clubs – conversate!”
"Then remind me never to go to a club with you ever again."
He let out a tiny sigh, briefly running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you had a horrible time, but if you don’t tell me what happened, there’s no way I can help you. Just get in the car with me, Emma, and we’ll go home.”

"Someone told Leroy I had feelings for him, so he decided to get hands on with me. He watched you walk away, took his chance, touched me, ripped my top, so I slapped him and left. There, happy? I've told you. How can you possibly help me, Elijah?"
"Fucking bastard!" Elijah exclaimed, feeling that anger course through him. He should have known they would have sent a drunken rookie after Emma for shits and giggles. After several seconds of anger, Elijah forced his voice to soften.

“We can just talk about it, Emma, y’know? That helps.” ‘Talk’ was a word Elijah seldom used in his vocabulary, but in this case, Emma was the exception. Even if he was doing the listening, at least he wouldn’t feel like a complete asshole.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Emma didn’t do much talking on the way back home, despite what he’d said. Her mind was still reeling from the cracks brought on my Leroy.
It had been so long since Emma had last thought of her mother and her antics; it always brought out emotions that she tried to keep hidden, away from prying eyes and nosey gossips. She couldn’t just…talk about something like that. It wasn’t that easy. There had been occasions where the memories had effected her work, throwing her off balance at the most inconvenient times – Landry had offered help time and time before, referring her to a goddamn shrink and saying that ‘it’ll do you the world of good’. Yea, sure it would. Telling a complete strangers that you’re a nut-job was just what she needed.

And if she told Elijah, well, he’d never look at her the same way again. After all, she had an image to maintain, and admitting to anyone that she had flaws wasn’t something she could afford.

When they reached their apartment, Elijah tried to get her to talk again, the same look of controlled anger etched into his expression. He was probably pissed off because her sudden walk out had made him lose his brunette. Oh, well, what a tragic shame.

The only thing she wanted to do was change out of her ridiculous clothing – she felt cheap and nasty in it.

When she strolled off down the hallway to her room, Elijah murmured a soft, “I’ll be out on the veranda, okay? Meet me out there.”
She spared him a quick glance before entering her room, unsure of his apparent concern. Was it genuine or was he messing with her like everyone else did? Emma found it strange to think that anyone could be concerned for her, let alone angry that someone had hurt her. Up until recently, Emma was certain that Elijah actually hated her, her uptight attitude and strict sense of what was right and what was wrong driving him insane.

Up until recently, Emma was certain that she hated him, too.
But, the more time they spent together and the more they worked in unison, she was finding it somewhat…difficult to truly dislike him anymore. The man had a way of making her be someone else; she said things she never normally said, she teased and joked with him when she didn’t with anyone else, and Emma smiled a lot (okay, not a full on smile, but it was getting closer by the day) and dear gods, she’d even caught herself wanting to actually laugh, too. Emma never laughed, at least, not since her child-like innocence had died, and that was something that had happened very quickly.

She changed quickly, removing her ruined clothes and tossing them down the garbage shoot, before putting on her usual shorts and tank top that she wore to bed. Emma pulled the pins out of her hair, too, and let her it fall freely to her shoulders, making sure to cover up her bare neck.
A small part of her didn’t want to go to the veranda and meet Elijah, too embarrassed to show her face because he’d seen something no-one else had before. Excluding Landry, but he didn’t count.
But, Emma did anyway.

She stopped off at the fridge and pulled out a cold beer for him and a big bag of chips for them to share. Her stomach was beginning to growl at her and they did look good.
Pushing open the sliding glass door, Emma found him sat on the plush swinging bench, one foot on the railing in front of him as he gently rocked himself back and forth. His blue eyes locked onto her when she stepped out, and when he dropped his leg for her to pass and take the seat beside him, Emma handed him the beer.
“Are those for me?” Elijah asked, nodding at the bag of chips in her hands. Clearly someone was as hungry as she was.
Emma positioned herself at his side, “They’re for us.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah felt a smile tinge at his lips, although he quickly shifted gears right back into his serious, albeit rare, demeanor. There was no denying the fact what happened tonight had been completely uncalled for, and no doubt terrifying on Emma’s end. He was the type of guy that royally failed at consoling someone, but for some reason, he wanted to try for Emma. Hell, if he had to act like an idiot for her to feel better, he would. A while back, he would have enjoyed to see some wind knocked out of her sails, but now, it positively disturbed him. Elijah loved competition, but only when it was fair. He wouldn’t feel like he accomplished the top spot at the agency if his opponent had been pretty much knocked down by a cheap shot.

Only one person was allowed to fuck with Emma, and he had automatically dubbed himself as that guy.

“I shouldn’t have left you,” Elijah murmured, unsure of how to kick things off. He wasn’t used to talking, being more of a hands-on person.
"No, I shouldn't have gone with you. You were just doing what you enjoy."
“I wanted to hang out with you, show you the town, and some brunette that wasn’t even worth the attention, fucked everything—“ he paused, glancing down at his beer, “—well, I did. I don’t want you thinking I’m some promiscuous asshole, because I’m more than that.” Elijah had no idea why he had felt the need to go so in depth about his emotions; his sole intention was to simply apologize and convince Emma he hadn’t meant for her to get hurt, but now, he was justifying his actions to please her?

Elijah was beginning to scare himself.

"I already think you're a promiscuous asshole, Elijah," Emma teased lightly. "Honestly, though, what happened wasn't your fault. It's just...something that happens to me sometimes."
“I’m touched, but I prefer to call myself a…connoisseur of sorts, of all things sexual with a dash of intense honesty and lack of filter,” he responded with a small grin, although it was a gesture that quickly vanished when she continued. “Sometimes? This has happened more than once?”
She shrugged, "A few times."
“And you haven’t told Landry? Or kicked their ass?” Elijah knew physicality and strength wasn’t an issue on Emma’s part, so he failed to understand why things like this would happen to her more than once.
She shook her head, "It's nothing like that. What happened tonight was the most extreme occasion. The last time it happened was with..." Emma paused for a few seconds. "Jacob. All he did was try to hold my hand."

Of course it was Jacob. Of-fucking-course. It felt like the guy would find each and every excuse to get close to Emma, and turn psychotic whenever Elijah was around her. There was no reason for him to feel threatened, but then again, maybe he was just intimidating by nature. Elijah wanted to smirk at the idea, but irritation, similar to earlier, returned.

“Did you and Jacob have a fling or something?” Elijah asked, trying to remain as casual as possible before knocking back half of his beer and staring out at the streets below.
"I'd hardly call it a 'fling'. We dated for two weeks, and he got impatient with me because I wouldn't have sex with him, so he slept with Amanda instead."
“Ouch,” he muttered to himself. “Well, you deserve someone who’ll wait. And, you better remember this moment because it's rare as hell for me to say this, but, I hope you get to enjoy that moment, when it comes because you're not only ridiculously attractive, but your personality is something truly...hard to find. So, yeah.” He fucking sucked at finding the proper words.

Again, Elijah surprised himself with his words. He was actually wishing Emma well? Hell!

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Emma smiled, despite her mood. “If I didn’t know better, Elijah, I’d actually say you were being nice to me.” And she was slightly surprised to find that she…liked it? “But, I don’t think I’ll ever get that moment. I haven’t met a man yet that I can actually stand touching me.”
Elijah leaned in a bit closer, his fingers barely ghosting along her cheek. "You have plenty of time," he murmured.
Emma froze and waited for the horror to sweep through her again… and waited…and waited some more; but nothing happened. There was no bombardment of disturbing images in her mind, her muscles didn’t tense and most of all, Emma never flinched. She didn’t even budge.
Elijah had touched her, in a way he wasn’t obligated to, and it had felt… kinda nice.
Her cheek still tingled from where his fingers had brushed along her skin.

“Do it again,” Emma murmured. The words escaping her mouth before she could register them.
"Touch you?" he whispered, light surprise in his tone, although his fingers lightly cupped her jaw.
His hands were warm against her skin, making it hard to focus on anything other than his touch. Yet, again, there was no flinching, no images, no screaming in her head, only a tingle under where their skin came into contact, a pleasant prickling that made her want to lean into it. Made her want to ask for more.

Emma blinked, amazed, and reached up to cover his hand with hers. “How do I feel to you?”
She wasn’t sure why she asked the question, it was probably nothing but her surprise and confusion driving her; but, suddenly, Emma needed to know if the strange sensation was just her mind playing tricks on her.
"Soft," he breathed.
“Anything else?” She asked in a whisper. Who was this person unexpectedly asking these questions? Maybe Emma had finally cracked under the pressure of her own twisted mind.
"Warm," he added, biting his lip subconsciously.

Gradually, she trailed his hand to cover her cheek once more, and the heat and intensity of it almost knocked her off the bench. “It doesn’t feel…weird?”
Emma needed to stop this, needed to push his hand away and tell him to forget it all, but her body didn’t respond to any of her brains fumbling commands; it was almost like it was sucking up the attention like a sponge after the years of neglect.
"No," he whispered, drawing small circles against her skin.

He’s not pulling away! Her brain practically screamed at her gleefully. Gleefully? What. The. Fuck?

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “Elijah…there’s no…no…it doesn’t feel bad.” In fact, it felt the complete opposite.
How could this be? It had been the same story for years; guys touched her, sometimes as simply as Jacob had, and her world had crumbled, her tough demeanour vanishing out the nearby window.
Elijah grinned softly, dragging his lips along her hairline. "Good."

Her eyes flashed open, abruptly aware of how close they were.
Wasn’t there a gap between them a few seconds ago? Emma could have sworn…

Okay, it was time to stop. She’d proved her point – she was insane, that was a given – but her limbs didn’t listen, and now it seemed that they’d taken on a life on their own.
Emma’s finger were at his jaw, slowly gliding their way down to his chin, and making her finger tips tingle in the same way her cheeks had.

Then, with some help from her guiding fingers, Elijah’s mouth was a mere breath away from hers, blue and hazel eyes locking.

Time came to a complete halt when he attentively pressed his lips to her own in a small and simple peck. It was almost like Elijah was waiting for something to happen just as much as she was, but when nothing did, he tested the waters once more with another careful kiss.
Still, not a flinch in sight.
“Elijah…” Her voice was barely above a whisper when they parted again.
His fingers trailed down her neck, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. When they met again, there was no denying the jolt of excitement.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had no idea what the hell he was doing, but that couldn’t be the furthest thing from his mind by the time their lips collided a second time, warmth tingling to his very core. His fingers found their way into her hair, the tiny whimpering sounds she made only encouraging his kisses to grow slightly rougher, but with a delicateness he only used with her. But as soon as he reached the height of his pleasure, a hard knock on the door caused them to rip away from each other just as quickly, Emma’s chest slightly heaving, her hair somewhat disheveled from his busy hands. Elijah cleared his throat, watching as she rapidly got on her feet and disappeared inside, a familiar voice sounding several seconds later.

“I know this is short notice,” he heard Jacob begin, “but I just wanted to…ask you something.”
“Ask me what?" Emma sighed, "Can't it wait?"
Elijah grinned to himself as he reached for the beer on the table, finishing it in one swallow. He knew he was damn good, but…

“Not really, no. I actually came here to ask you if you wanted to accompany me to the Christmas Ball next week.”
Elijah nearly gagged. Jacob was obviously one of those guys that didn’t understand when a girl just wasn’t interested! He shamelessly continued to eavesdrop though, their conversation suddenly taking an enthralling turn.

Emma frowned at him, "What? No. You know I never go to that thing. Why would you ask me, anyway?"
“I just needed a date, Emma, and I figure I’d try,” Jacob said, his voice tense.
Shocker. The guy got shot down – not like Elijah expected any different. He still had no idea, personally, if he was going, but if an opportunity presented itself…maybe. Although the chance didn’t look particularly large considering Elijah couldn’t stand Amanda and her band of ass kissers. He had never seen a bunch of men so fucking lame. Elijah wasn’t bowing down to anyone, no matter how big her rack was – he devoutly abided his own philosophies.

"Well, you wasted your time. Have you ever seen me go to one of those stupid balls? No."
“And yet you went to a bar last night?” Jacob retorted.
She blinked, "How do you know I went to a bar? I was only there for ten minutes tops."
Elijah raised his brows. It couldn’t have been that obvious they went to a bar together, unless Amanda had come rushing home behind them. Did gossip even spread that fast?

“Never mind,” Jacob retorted, the loud slam of a door following.

Elijah figured it was his cue to get up, slowly trailing inside from the veranda and seeing Emma standing at the center of the living room, looking just as confused as he did.
“I knew I was right when I said that guy was a creeper,” he murmured, tossing his empty bottle of beer in the trash before placing the chips back in the pantry.
"He isn't a creeper," Emma said, "He's just...Jacob. He likes to know everything that's going on."
Elijah glanced over at her with a bewildered expression. “I don’t know why you’re defending him. I’ve never seen a guy shot down so quickly.”
Emma shrugged, "Just because I defend him, doesn't mean I want to go to the ball with him. What's the point of letting him down gently? It only drags things on."

Elijah nodded. “Amen to that.”

They were worlds apart in so many things, but if there was only one thing they agreed on, it was definitely the idea that relationships, love, and dating in general were a waste of time.

[/blockquote][/size]