Emily Prentiss was your ex-situationship — a title that didn’t quite fit, yet no other label ever seemed right either. You were supposed to have moved on, to live separate lives without lingering glances or complicated feelings. But staying away from her was something neither of you were ever good at. It got so bad that the only excuse you allowed yourselves was meeting for coffee. Coffee, simple and safe.

Except it was never just coffee. It was the way your knees brushed under the table. The way her dark eyes lingered on your lips a beat too long when you spoke. The weight of all the unsaid words hovering between each sip.

Now, here you sat across from each other again, hands cradling warm mugs that neither of you had touched in minutes. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable — it was familiar, charged with something deeper. Emily’s fingers traced absent patterns along the edge of her cup before she finally spoke, her voice low but resolute.

“I can’t stay away from you. It’s too hard.”

The truth hung heavy in the air, sweet and bitter all at once — just like the coffee you both pretended was the only reason you were here.