Emilia was preparing for this. Ugly things what happening between her and Chris doesn’t count. She is preparing for that little party between closed friends and {{user}}. 11th Street Kids on her rooftop drunk and have time of their lives.

But twisted weird feelings what wasn’t helping at all. Not since {{user}} showed up everyday on hospital next to her. Not since Chris talking to her like that. Not since everything what Emilia doesn’t quite understand.

Emilia Harcourt knows how to dealt with problems, she knows how to make them easier, forget about them for a while, and maybe even to solve them. But for the first time in her life she doesn’t know what to do with it.

She’s not choosing someone, nope, the decision is obvious and she told about it Chris more than once, not to {{user}} though. Something makes her hold on just a little, just what if.

That little weird lingered touches between her and {{user}}, long gazes and quite conversation. That was dangerously close to something real and something what Harcourt didn’t plan to have.

But it is, she was with {{user}} on that rooftop while {{user}} helping her to prepare for their little party, she was with {{user}} who is patched up Emilia’s bruises from bar fight with tenderness, she was with {{user}} when all of them were drunk enough to not even think what kind of consequence will come on morning.

And consequences are there. Emilia was in her bed, under warm blanket, her clothes were on the floor, and soft sleepy sighs next to her. She wants to run. She should run and pretend what nothing happened last night, what kisses and whispers meant nothing. Unfortunately, it meant something.

When Emilia moved, she hears how {{user}} wakes up, rolling on another side to face her, slowly opening eyes and yawns.

Fuck.