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Her hand is so soft. He’d never held it fully in his like this before, only soft brushes of her palm against his or the meeting of their fingertips as she passed him a bottle of water. His thumb absentmindedly runs over her knuckles, something he’s unaware of, something that makes her cheeks heat.
They’re closer than they’ve ever been before. His hand is warm on her lower back, urging her closer, right up against his chest, and hers is on his shoulder, gripping the material of his jacket between her fingers to stop herself from sliding her hand into his soft looking hair.
They move with an easy, practiced rhythm; similar to the way they move in the field, in sync more often than not. It makes Aaron smile. “You’re a good dancer,” he says, his mouth right at her ear, and she smiles.
“Of course I am,” Emily declares, “I’m an ambassador’s daughter. I attended balls in my sleep.”
“I remember.” He murmurs, and those two words make her close her eyes and tighten her grip on his fingers.
He’d been a security guard at her mother’s estate and she’d been a bored college student home for the summer. She had teased him lightly, gone out of her way to see him before she left for yet another bar, another outing with her friends. She’d always been drawn to him—and him to her—but he was engaged to Haley so nothing happened, and perhaps that’s the biggest shame of it all.
“You never asked me to dance,” she muses, her voice low. “I’m still very offended by that.” Emily looks up at him and smiles, the tight corners of it fading for the first time that night.
“If it makes you feel better, I wanted to,” he says, and she raises her brows in disbelief. His hand moves to settle on the curve of her waist. “God, I did, Emily. You looked so beautiful.”
She ducks her head in embarrassment, her cheeks heating as his words. She remembers that night, when her mother was hosting yet another one of her mind numbing parties. He’d been standing guard near the door and she felt his burning gaze on her all night, caressing the bare skin exposed by her red dress as she danced with man after man her mother threw at her.
“Did I?” Her lips curve into a smile and he sees the indent of her dimple in her cheek. Aaron has to force his gaze back to her eyes to stop himself from doing something stupid, like kissing her.
But that’s a mistake too. Her eyes are warm and beautiful, the tiny pinpricks of light above them melting into her irises. He sinks into them, falls deeper than he has already. “You looked pretty okay, I guess,” she teases.
Emily is rewarded by the sound of his warm laugh against her ear. Her heart skips at the sound and she holds her breath, wishing she could just trap herself in this moment. Her and him, so close together she can feel the heat of his body through her dress.
Aaron looks down at her as she suddenly grows silent, her eyes unfocused. He swallows tightly. She’s been that way ever since she arrived, the look in her eyes thinly veiled with a distracting smile. It scares him, that look, because he knows her well enough by now to know this means she’s going to run. Again. It’s something he can’t even bear the though of.
“What are you thinking?” He whispers, keeping his voice low so it doesn’t break.
She doesn’t hear him, still replaying his laugh over in her head, shoving aside other memories to make room for it. She knows she’ll need it, something warm to soothe the cold ache of London.
Aaron’s throat tightens. “Emily.” He squeezes her waist, and her gaze snaps to his.
“Hm? Sorry, could you repeat that?” She laughs lightly. It’s as terrifying as it is impressive that she’s able to hide her emotions so well.
He doesn’t laugh back. Emily swallows, the desperate way he’s looking at her finally registering in her brain. He knows.
She almost laughs, because of course he does.
“What were you thinking about?” He rasps out, tightening his hold on her when her her eyes widen in panic. Don’t run, he pleads. Not now.
Emily’s heart slams in her chest and she licks her dry lips. “What?” He asks softly, ever persistent, even though he desperately doesn’t want her to answer because he knows what she’ll say.
She forces out a dry chuckle, “That stack of paperwork on my desk,” she looks at him pleadingly, silently begging him to play along. “Though I’m sure yours-”
“Leaving.” He cuts her off roughly.
Emily shakes her head and drops her gaze, feeling the press of tears in the back of her throat, all too familiar lately ever since her return.
They’re not even dancing anymore, she thinks as she surveys the other pairs on the dance floor. They’re just moving aimlessly, his hand still on her waist and hers on his shoulder; a ruse for them to touch each other, because they never have before, not like this.
Aaron’s heart drops straight to his feet. He bends his head to meet her gaze, a sheen in her eyes that matches the one in his. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he begs. Emily looks away, her throat tight as she swallows.
“Hotch..” She trails off. The song ends and she tries to slip her hand from his grip, but he doesn’t let her go. She can see Morgan approaching, chasing after her for another dance because he knows it’ll be her last, too. Emily tugs her hand harder and he lets go, his palm dropping from her waist.
Her hand is unbearably cold at her side. She wraps her shawl tighter around her body, suppressing a shiver and avoiding Aaron’s gaze as she walks past him.
For a moment he’s frozen as she takes Morgan’s hand, her tight smile back on her lips. Aaron moves without feeling it, approaching them and placing a hand on Morgan’s shoulder, halting their dance.
“Sorry, would you mind if I stole Emily for this song? It’s my favorite,” he says hoarsely, the mindless lie slipping through his teeth.
Morgan takes one look at him and glances at Emily, clocks in the expressions on their faces and lets go of her. “Sure, man.” He says softly, the desperate look in Hotch’s eyes telling him he knows, too.
“Save me the next one, princess.” He smiles as he walks away. She nods wordlessly, looking after him as he approaches Penelope, feeling Aaron’s burning gaze on her.
Emily doesn’t dare look at him. “I need some water,” she says quietly, bolting before he can reply. He wonders for a minute if he should leave her alone, give her some space; they did have a date tomorrow. But he thinks of the look in her eyes, her skittishness, and he’s not sure he can trust she’ll stay another day.
She’s gone, already disappeared into the house, and just the absence of her in this moment makes his heart clench. Aaron follows her into the kitchen. She’s turned away from him, her dark head bent as she looks down.
He stands in front of her, bends his head down to meet her eyes. “Why, Emily?” He whispers.
“Stop it, Aaron.”
He’s stunned into silence, his name on her tongue halting him in his tracks.
“Stop.” She whispers, tears finally rolling down her cheeks. She wipes them off roughly. “You know damn well why.”
Her voice is ragged, defeated, and Aaron feels his heart drop.
“Garcia still looks at me like I’m about to disappear. Reid, ” her voice trembles and she clenches her hands into fists. “Reid doesn’t trust me anymore.” A sob escapes her lips and she turns away, looks at the floor. “He won’t talk to me, he won’t even look me in the eye. He flinched when I hugged him the other day.” Emily presses her palms against her eyes in an attempt to staunch her tears, but the dam’s been broken. It’s every hurt she hadn’t let herself feel since she got back, every paper thin cut they’ve unknowingly inflicted on her, and she’s finally bleeding out.
Tears burn in the back of Aaron’s throat as he watches her tremble, shaking like a leaf before his eyes. “Emily..” he moves closer to her but stops shy of actually touching her, though his hands twitch at his sides.
She removes her palms and looks at him through blurry eyes. Emily blinks the tears away and feels the heat travel down her cheeks and drip off her chin.
“Nothing fits, Aaron,” she says hoarsely, her voice cracking. “I don’t fit. I ruined it all.” She whispers brokenly, looking into his eyes and allowing him to see this side of her, because even through her hurt she knows he’d understand.
“No, Emily,” he refutes firmly. He slowly moves closer, and when she doesn’t shy away he wraps her tightly in his arms, his forehead pressed to her hair. She clutches him tightly, her nails digging into his shirt so hard she’s surprised it doesn’t tear. Emily stuffs her face in his warm neck and shakily breathes in. He’s so familiar; the scent of his cologne and the feel of his body against hers, though they’ve never done this before.
“You didn’t ruin it, sweetheart,” he soothes, his hand rubbing her trembling back, feeling her sharp breaths staccato against his neck.
“Didn’t I?” She laughs bitterly. She ignores the nickname he called her, because she knows if she doesn’t he’d somehow make her stay. And she can’t do that.
“No.” He pulls back to look at her, cupping her face to gently force her watery gaze on his. “It’s not your fault, Emily,” he says, but he knows his words have no effect on her. She’s set in her decision, they both know that, but he can’t help but try.
“Sure,” she wipes her wet cheeks and looks up at him, holding one of his wrists. “Thank you for saying that.” She smiles softly, the realest one he’d seen all night. She doesn’t believe him, but she gets some peace knowing he does.
“I mean it,” Aaron grits out roughly, feeling her slip through his fingers. “Don’t go, Emily. It’ll get better, I swear it will.” He whispers, his thumb stroking her cheek, catching a final tear leaking out from the corner of her eye.
Emily shakes her head, “I can’t stay, Aaron.” She lets go of his wrist and gently runs her fingers through his hair like she’s always thought of doing, just once, to see how it feels. It’s soft in her hand, dark as night against her skin, and Emily smiles. Aaron’s eyes flutter closed. He leans into her touch, just savoring the feeling of her hand when she pulls away. He opens his eyes.
“You’re the only one who didn’t make me feel different,” she whispers, her eyes shining. “Thank you for that.”
She pulls away, lets his hands fall from her face, and it feels so much like goodbye—because it is—he almost sinks to his knees.
“Don’t go.” He says quietly, a last futile attempt at keeping her with him. Emily smiles sadly, her heart twisting at the rasp in his voice, the slightest sheen of tears in his eyes.
“I have to.”
She adjusts her wrap around her body and wipes away any lingering tears, mentally making a note to hide for a few minutes in the bathroom, let the redness of her eyes and cheeks fade.
He watches her turn her back on him and walk away, like she’s done so many times before. 17 years ago, 8 months ago, and now; like a cycle they can’t stop themselves from repeating.
“I love you.” Aaron whispers when she’s at the doorway.
Emily stops, closing her eyes against another onslaught of tears. She swallows against the lump in her throat. “I know.” Her voice is thick and low, trembling the slightest bit, just like the line of her shoulders.
Aaron closes his eyes as she walks away, unable to see it one more time.