Chapter Text
Emmy softly closed the professor’s office door. She was welcomed by the silence that settled in the corridor, since most of the students and professors already left some time ago. Her eyes were locked on the doorknob as she slowly let it go off of her hand, and her other hand gripped her trunk tighter.
She did it. She officially resigned. She was not the professor’s assistant anymore, and this simple thought made her heart hurt even more than before. Sighing, her eyes left the door as she began walking. Her footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Slow. Heavy.
Emmy’s head felt oddly light, her thoughts seeming to fade away. It was as if she couldn’t think, only walking away from her life, from her job, from him . She knew she didn’t want to, and could completely go back and beg his pardon for leaving, and she ached to do so, but her foot guided her to the university’s entrance.
Emmy looked at the spot where she usually parked her scooter. It was still there, waiting for her. The girl threw her trunk on it, attached it, and drove away. Thank God she hadn’t seen Luke in the process, because she wasn’t in the best state to handle the little boy. Last time they saw each other, last time she saw his big eyes full of joy just seeing her with them, her heart felt like burning. How could he be so kind to her, knowing she almost killed him in this bloody sanctuary ?
Dark grey clouds began to fulfil the Londonian sky as she was driving home. It was a perfect description of her mental state now, she thought. A single drop of water dropped on her helmet as Emmy stipped at a traffic light. It traced a clean path over her livid eyes which followed its course before it died on the edge on the glass. Light turned green, and Emmy sped up to go home before rain really started to pour.
She arrived just in time, closing the door as thunder began. Rain hit her flat's windows hard and a flash of light illuminated briefly her rather small living room, before it turned dark again. She switched the lights on, let her trunk fall on the floor and removed her wet jacket. Maybe a warm shower would clear her foggy mind.
A photo hung on the wall at the entrance caught her eyes. It was a picture of the professor, Luke and herself, all smiling. Both her hand and the professor rested on Luke's shoulders, who was laughing with a big smile on his face. Emmy shook her head, and went to the bathroom.
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The professor stopped his car in front of home, rain striking on the windows. He packed his things quickly and he hurried to the door, opened it and locked it before the rain drenched him. He turned on the lights.
Silence always had been appreciated after a long day of work : as much as the professor loved it, University could be quite busy and stressful, so a little bit of calm after the storm was mercy for him.
Thunder stroke outside. Well, perhaps before the storm wasn't the best description. Even more with the mess inside Hershel's head at the moment. For now, silence meant loneliness in his mind.
Maybe he should fetch himself a cup of tea.
The professor headed to his kitchen, leaving his trunk in the hallway. If Emmy was there she'd tell him to put it in his office before the house starts to get messy everywhere, but she wasn't there. Not anymore. Hershel sighed.
Her departure was painful for both of them. She looked so lost, so sad when she left. It was the first time he actually qaw her like this, and it plagued his mind ever since. A fragile and already-broken doll was standing in front of him instead of the usually cheerful and energetic woman he knew, and this should have been a warning for him to do something for her, but he didn't.
Hershel threw tea leaves into the pot and put it on the hotplate.
He didn't know why he hadn't hugged her back. Maybe it'd have prevented her from leaving. Of course, he understood why she resigned : she indeed spent their three years together spying on him for Targent and she threatened Luke in the Sanctuary, but the professor refused to believe the bright woman she was really lied to them during all this time. Her smiles and laughs were real, as much as her despair today. God, he should have helped her. And what did he do instead ? He let her go. Maybe she thought she needed it, but he knew it wasn't true. Her eyes screamed for help, as much as his heart ached to see her in this state.
The professor noticed it not so long ago : the quick smiles she gave him from time to time, her laugh when she was teasing Luke, and her bright eyes that showed so much interest when he was talking was something he loved about her. That was why he didn’t believe at all about her betrayal. His heart couldn’t believe everything about her was fake, because it’d break his heart another time.
He finally started to feel something for another after Claire’s death
The water started to tremble on the stove. Ah, he really needed a cup of tea to clear his mind. But first he needed to pack his things and to put it in his office. The professor left his kitchen to grab his trunk before heading upstairs.
He remembered the times when Emmy went there to assist him, even if it wasn’t on her planning. She’d stay there until late at night, even all night if needed, especially before exams sessions that needed a lot of preparation. He entered his office and turned on the lights : it’s been a long time since he saw his office in such a decent state. It always was so messy, but certainly Emmy cleaned it while he was working. He sighed.
Putting his trunk near his desk, he began heading to the door before something caught his eye. it was on the small table in the middle of the room.
Her notebook.
Emmy must have forgotten it last time she went there. Hershel gently took it, as if it’d break it if he was too rough. He studied the front page, where her name was written on thin and curvy letters : ‘E. Altava’. He loved her handwriting : it was so delicate. He didn’t know how she could write like this when she took such quick notes from time to time and it truly amazed him. His gentleman side dared not to open it, though. But he couldn’t keep it with him… Maybe he should give it back ?
The teapot whistled, driving him out of his thoughts. He headed downstairs, the notebook in his hand. He wanted to give it back, but she made it clear she didn’t want to see him anymore…. Did she ?
Hershel shook his head. Of course she didn’t. And maybe this notebook was his opportunity to see her again, and maybe convince her to stay with him. She may have left him, but he knew deep inside that it wasn’t her choice. It wasn’t
his
choice. It may sound selfish, but he really wanted her back.
He put the teapot away from the stove, grabbed his coat, and left his house.
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The warm water seemed to ease Emmy's mind. Steam surrounded the bathroom, and she was brushing her wild curls while thunder could still be heard outside.
The girl has always loved hot showers after work : it was as if all her daily problems left her body, and she always felt much better after it, her mind clouded into the sweet perfumes of her body soap and shampoo. Yet, her heart still felt both heavy and empty, as if only her mind has been soothed by this moment.
Maybe a cup of tea would ease her heart. She laughed at the idea : the professor really impacted her more than she thought. Emmy wasn't a huge tea lover back in the Nest : she was more like a coffee lover since her days could be really long, even though she made sure not to drink too much, given that it wasn't the healthiest drink. But with the professor… every cup had been better than the other when he was there.
She sighed as she let her brush drop on the sink. Why did everything remind her of
him
? Couldn't she just forget him for a minute ?
She grabbed a tank top and a short, and dressed herself. Of course she couldn’t. She spent the last three years trying to erase those thoughts from her mind, but it failed miserably, and maybe it was why things went this bad now. Uncle Leon told her not to let her feeling overpower her, and she did the exact opposite…
She ran a hand on her face, leaving the bathroom and heading to the kitchen. Ah, the ache into his heart was coming back.
Emmy grabbed a small kettle and threw in on a stove, pouring some water in it. A quick glance at the clock told her she should probably eat something, so she opened her cupboards to find something. She wasn’t really hungry, so a simple tea with some biscuits will do the job.
The kettle started to whistle just when she was setting up a cup on a small tray. Finishing to put a plate of cakes on it, she absent-mindedly grabbed the kettle-
And missed the handle. “Fuck!”
Emmy yelped at the burning sensation on her left fingers. On her haste to pull her hand away, her other arm hit the tray and it fell on the floor in a loud crash. She hurried to the sink, pouring iced water on her burnt hand.
She was biting her lower lip so as not to let another curse when water hit her fingers. However, the adrenaline rush quickly faded away. The broken porcelain cut lied at her feet, her heart was beating quickly, her breath fast and short, her hand burning and hurting. It was just what her heart needed to let it go.
Leaning on the kitchen counter, her healthy hand hid her tearful eyes as she began to cry, her sobs hidden by the rushing water on her burns.