Emotions: Emma

[Dean]

Tear-filled eyes

He knew this day was coming.

But it didn't make anything any easier. One day left, just one. He told himself as he walked down the sidewalk. He had officially given Harmony the keys to the car, and told her to see Bobby is there was any real problems with it. He'd done everything he had set out to do. Talk to the kids; check. Talk to Colette; check. Have a fun day with Emma; check.

Now what?

One day till the court hearing. He heaved a large sigh as his hands went to his pockets. He could see Rosewood up ahead, and in that moment; it was like a switch flicked on. His eyes teared up, and he had to force himself to pull it together. He walked in pure silence until he reached Rosewood's porch.

He could hear the chaos inside, kids running and screaming and generally having a good time. Pushing the door open, he didn't bother asking where she was. Because truth be told; he needed a moment for himself. Just one minute to calm himself down. But with each step he took, the more his emotions got the best of him. He couldn't stop that first tear falling, nor was he able to calm himself down. Without even thinking, he opened the first door there was in the upstairs hallway; which just so happened to be Emma's room.

No one was inside, so he sat himself down in the desk chair and finally allowed himself to cry the tears that had been pent up for nearly a month. He was losing everything he cared about...

[Emma Lawrence]

Love you.

All it took was one night. One more night terror, one more dream for her to realize how much her life was going to fall apart in two days. Her world was sent into harsh jabs of sight and sound, skipping like scratched discs so she had to see her actions over and over and feel how awful they were over and over, living with the grief over and over. Against her bare backside she felt the cool, petal-soft Jersey knit sheets rubbing against her as she moved in time with him, purposely never jolting against him, using as little friction as possible but still feeling their bodies pressed so close against each other she thought she could melt into him. The tug forward of her hips was gentle and appealing, her mind more focused on what he was doing to her and how much more she craved it. His hand along the back of her thigh as she bent her leg up to meet him, pulling her near him in a desperate need to be closer. His other hand was tangled in her hair, and his lips laced over her mouth the sweetest hot kisses she could ever fantasize. She felt the bulging of the muscles in his neck, the chiseled stone of his shoulders, the flexing of his obliques and thighs against her hands as she kept their hips perpetually intact. Sweat had formed between them and she breathed heavily, experiencing ecstasy after ecstasy as his thrusts varied in form and strength. And then it slipped away, and she woke to the dark ceiling above her, eyes bright and wild as she noticed how wet her entire body had become from the dream. It was sticky and hot in the room. And Cian next to her hadn't noticed a thing. She had laid there for a moment, letting herself calm down and thinking it might be worth it to take a cold shower. Because the man in her dream, the one she had been making feverish and unsurpassable love to, was not her husband, but Dean.

Emma knew thoughts of adultery were natural every once in a while. It only reassured her of her devotion to Cian, and every time (however seldom the times were) she found herself more in love with him than she had been before. But this time was different. This time, she wanted to leave her bedside and find Dean. Perhaps it was because he was so accessible and she was still hot. Or perhaps it was because he was going on trial in two days. Whatever the reason, she felt the need to get up and walk around. Emma paced the room hundreds of times, stress about the trial sinking in before she settled down beside Cian again, draping her arm over his waist and spooning him from behind. He stirred, reaching to grab her hands, but she still felt dirty.

By morning, she hadn't slept since waking up from the dream. So it was only natural that midway through the day, she had fallen asleep in her bedroom on the already-made bed. Around noon, she woke up, realizing she had a class to teach at four and other responsibilities to attend to before that. Picking herself up, she lazily made her way to her office to prepare her things.

A distinct sound of breath was coming from the room, and she pushed the door open to find the man from her dream sitting there, sobbing so passionately she had to assume his lungs were burning. But she only stood there, dumbfounded, at a loss for actions or words. She didn't even think about the dream. The thought of sex didn't occur to her. The thought that her best friend was falling apart had paralyzed her with fear.

He was crying so hysterically that only when he paused to take a breath, she tilted her head to try to see his face, her voice feeble and frightened. "Dean....?"