crumblingdisposition:

A soft smile touched her lips as he ran over her jaw with a finger, a sigh escaping her. She caught his hand with hers, lacing their fingers together. Blaming it solely on the alcohol and loneliness would have been easy, but she knew it didn’t end there. She wanted him there that night, and the next, and the rest after that. Admitting it while sober was what held her back. It meant trust, letting someone in, and Emma wasn’t good at that. But at least for tonight she could blame it on the alcohol if it came to it.

“Mhmmm,” she hummed her answer, inching close enough to nestle her head in the crook of his neck. “‘M awake,“ she murmured, though it may have been a slur. At this point who knew. 

He said nothing as she grabbed his hand, only stared at their entwined fingers through the cover of darkness. Hope rose within him like a tiny flame that refused to die out no matter how much he tried to smother it. But perhaps the fact that he wanted to feel that hope, deep down, was what stopped him from snuffing it out entirely.

A smile spread across his lips, and his gaze shifted back to her. She was close enough now that he had to look down his nose to see her, his vision of her blurred only slightly. Before, he had been worrying about saying something to end the silence, but now he realized that quiet could be a nice thing as well. He broke it only momentarily, whispering through the quiet, "I’m glad."