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Frustration and her own self-destruction manifest as he misunderstands. She minces her words too well, unwilling to open up and express how she truly feels or thinks. [break][break]

He's delicate with his stitching and yet she's uncomfortable and stressed. It causes her pain and she winces, one hand lifting to grab hold of one of his to still his hand, or maybe her own.[break][break]

"That's--" her mouth feels dry all of a sudden, her hand, once a vice, relaxes to fall back to her side. "--not what I meant, Gavin."[break][break]

But she doesn't elaborate if that's what he needs from her. Deep down she isn't sure she wants to. Ruining this felt like a wound she couldn't afford to open.[break][break]

It was a good idea as it was to get away - perhaps even the best idea. If the Hoenn League went looking for their aliases, they would be out of danger. [break][break]

Gavin finishes his thought, muttering about wanting to get away from the people in Rocket. She averts her gaze even if he's insinuated he isn't sick of her. There's a part of her that wanted him to be sick of her, as fucked up as that sounded.

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Emma's fingers curl around his wrist, and Gavin stills the rhythmic process of stitching almost immediately. Concern sharpens his amber eyes as he meets her gaze, the question unspoken: What's wrong?[break][break]

Though she does not answer his particular question, her words are telling all the same.[break][break]

He is good at picking up on subtle cues, even if he cannot always understand what they mean. Emma's disposition sings of discomfort and anxiety, a pattern he'd seen shortly before she vanished on him after their museum heist. She drops her hand, and he steps back to subconsciously afford her more space to breathe.[break][break]

"You're uncomfortable," is stating the obvious, but it's an important pre-cursor to his next question: "Why?"[break][break]

He can hazard a guess, but wants to hear it from her.

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The space he gives her is comforting but at the same time suffocating, like his sudden absence presents a void in her chest that saps at her strength. It's dangerous, and the exact reason she's hard-pressed to refuse this offer.[break][break]

His attention to her face, the way he struggles to read between the lines brings her dread, as does his question. He appears oblivious to the vacuum between them and yet she knows that must not be true. [break][break]

But she finds the strength to look him in the eye and be honest - at least as honest as is possible from the wolf.[break][break]

"You should go alone, Gavin. I don't belong in Galar."[break][break]

I don't belong with you. The thought crosses her mind but she doesn't say it out loud - it feels crushing. Another thought suggests that she's fighting this because she feels she should, that she doesn't deserve a moments peace. [break][break]

Monsters don't get to sleep at night.

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Gavin blinks at her, processing.[break][break]

Honest as her answer may have been, it only brings more questions. Did she want to go? What did she mean, she didn't belong in Galar?
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His gaze is intense, remaining leveled on her even as he mulls over her words. He is no fool: there is something between them, something foreign to Gavin despite his years. It is not something he puts a name to.[break][break]

He thinks, perhaps, she feels it too.[break][break]

He wets his lips, purses them before speaking.[break][break]

"Says who?"

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Maybe it's the blood loss from the still-seeping but mostly-closed wound on her scalp, but she feels lightheaded and nauseous. [break][break]

His steady gaze and the intensity behind it worries her, an emotion she'd learned to force away with ease. It had been a long time since she'd felt anything but cold indifference for another human being. She hadn't even felt it for herself.[break][break]

But when he asks his question she has no answer because there isn't one. The only roadblock she's facing is herself, her own self-doubt, her own fear.[break][break]

So she looks away, unsure what to say other than what she's already made clear.

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She looks away, and there's a twist in his gut that he's uncomfortably aware of. He's invested something of himself in this woman who's come to settle in his home, his life. There's a creeping fear that it might be all for naught that he forces aside.[break][break]

His approach to things has always been direct.[break][break]

So he sets down the needle and strips off blood-stained gloves, stretches cramped fingers and clears his throat.[break][break]

"Emma." There's a firmness to his tone, but also a certain patience. "What are you afraid of?"

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The extended silence and the mutual disconnect stemming from this jarring conversation is all-consuming. There's a vice around her throat that she can't shake. It takes Gavin's direct question and the firmness behind it to bring out what it is she's trying to say.[break][break]

It startles her how, despite being a woman of few words and clear intent, she can't figure out how to express what's blatantly obvious.[break][break]

He peels off the gloves and levels with her, and she manages to hold his amber eyes in her golden ones.[break][break]

"This, whatever this is. You."

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Emma confirms his suspicions, and Gavin's unsure of what it means for whatever this was. She was difficult to read on a good day, and this was one of the worst. He feels closer to an answer than he's ever been, but terrified to jump too quick to conclusions and startle her off.
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He lowers himself onto the other couch, watching her.[break][break]

"It's nothing you don't want it to be." His hand is splayed in a bracing gesture, as if trying to silently reassure her of his intent. "It doesn't have to be anything. I..."[break][break]

He trails off, realizes that the thought was unfinished. It was unlike him to struggle with his words this much, and the frown that plays across his lips is telling. Still, he persists, returning his hand to his lap and twining his fingers together.[break][break]

His eyes close as he tilts his head back, processing. It's a moment before he returns to look at her.[break][break]

"You don't need to be afraid of me."

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It's the slow and steady way he moves that suggests to her how akin to a beaten and afraid animal she is. Maybe in another situation she would have been insulted, or even amused in some strange way. Right now she felt more uncertain than ever, treated like some fragile thing.[break][break]

But his response doesn't satisfy her because she know where this goes. His promises, his reassurances that this would remain as anything but what it really was was bullshit. Because he had just confirmed for her that there was, indeed, something. [break][break]

She studies his frown, eyes lowering to his intertwined fingers. For a long time she chooses to say nothing, a trait that is equal parts reassuring as it can be infuriating. In this case, it's more likely the latter.[break][break]

There's an uncomfortable lurch in her stomach, however, when he finally attempts to piece together the thought he'd left hanging. In spite of the comfort of the couch, Emma has risen to her feet because it means she's one step closer to escaping. But is that what she wants? To keep running?[break][break]

"No, perhaps not. But you should be afraid of me."

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Her silence is as familiar as it is unnerving in the aftermath of his not-quite-confession. There are few things that Gavin fears apart from his own mortality, and the weight of potential rejection is more suffocating than he would have expected.[break][break]

There's something vulnerable in putting words to this, and vulnerability is something he's afraid of.[break][break]

Emma, too, seems spooked. Amber eyes watch her every movement as she rises from the couch, then flick toward the door as if expecting her to leave. He is not sure he could blame her if she did. If she was not interested in this, in him, perhaps it would be too difficult for her to stay. His throat feels tight, and the silence is louder than it has any right to be.[break][break]

She finally speaks, and he does not break eye contact.[break][break]

"Why?" he challenges. "Do you intend to endanger me?"

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Vulnerability is something foreign to her. And yet in this moment she feels like she's returned to the body of the same clumsy teenager with her heart on her sleeve, a blushing mess in front of a pretty girl. Maybe that's why this is so bittersweet, why she's making an impossible effort to snuff out whatever flame burned between them.[break][break]

Because she'd been down this path before, and it hadn't worked. Once upon a time she thought she'd found her other half. Honestly, maybe she had. Maybe fairy tales and love stories were just that - stories. Maybe it was possible to find your person and let them go anyway. Not everything was romantic in nature, sometimes it was violent.[break][break]

Her eyes follow Gavin's to the door in mutual understanding - but she doesn't move. In fact, she seems rooted, inner conflict preventing her from taking the exit as it's offered. [break][break]

But she was uncertain because she wanted this. There was a part of her hungry for companionship and trust and affection. A part of her that she thought had died with Freya, wherever she had gone.[break][break]

Her eyes are drawn to Gavin's again as his voice rises ever so slightly in a challenge. She doesn't detect anger in his voice but she wishes she did. His calmness is suffocating.[break][break]

"You already know the lengths I'll go to keep you safe."

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Her words resonate with him, drag his thoughts forcefully back into the frightening limbo of falling, that gut-lurch realization that his life might be at an end. Emma's desperate grip around his arm, wrenching his shoulder from its socket and saving him.[break][break]

He nods, slowly.[break][break]

He'd saved her, too, when they'd barely known each other. A different man might've called it even. To Gavin, however, it had little to do with quid pro quo and everything to do with the strange magnetism between them. What was at first mere admiration had blossomed into something fierce, something he was willing to fight for even if it meant stepping blindly into foreign territory.[break][break]

He remains calm, does not shift from his position on the couch nor make any move to block her exit. This would need to be a choice that Emma made for herself.[break][break]

"Then I see no reason to be afraid."

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And there it was - their intentions laid bare and their fears exposed. Gavin remained stoic in his determination that this was what he wanted if she wanted it in return. The thought burned something fierce in her chest - the knowing that he felt the same in some way.[break][break]

But the prickle of dread and the understanding that this was wrong still weighs heavily on her decision. Because, after all, this is her decision now. He's thrown her the bone and it's her choice to risk it being poison or not.[break][break]

"Then you are a fool."[break][break]

Hadn't she said that attachments were dangerous? She supposed she had never been one to follow her own rules.[break][break]

The woman takes a small step toward Gavin, the opposite direction from the door. There would be no doubt in her choice.

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