Emma watches the interaction quietly behind the lip of her glass. Her breath fogs it, and she lifts her mouth away and averts her gaze when the man looks back at her. His question forces her to think, but stubbornness prevents her from being completely honest.

Frankly, she isn't even sure what the truth is.

"In case Rabbit ever wants to visit."

It is not entirely a lie. But to say that he inspired her or put the idea in her head felt too.. real to say out loud. It was a line she would not cross.

"Did I do it right?"

Emma approaches to stand next to him, reaching out one hand, one finger, to draw back and forth against the glass. The Skrelp clumsily attempts to follow her, though it appears to be a very weak swimmer.

THEO BECKETT

It's huge, covering the entire wall. At first, she had mistaken it for a bizarrely placed window into the kitchen. Apparently, the previous owners had installed a massive aquarium for their water-type Pokémon instead.

After countless hours searching the web for tips and answers, she had successfully (she hopes) filled the tank and made it hospitable.

A tiny Skrelp swims around inside, drawing close to peer up at Theo.

Emma sips at her wine, one arm crossed over her chest. His smile brings warmth and relief, and she pulls her gaze away to settle on her Pokémon for fear she be caught staring.

"Thought you might appreciate it- looks like I was right."

THEO BECKETT

"Not another one that I use."

She roots around in cupboards again, pulling out a different pan. It is equally beat up, but there is nothing burned into it at the moment.

"Just making sure I won't have more unexpected guests."

If he can't tell, she isn't much of a people person.

Emma's attention moves past him abruptly, peering down and into the living room. She swallows the uncomfortable, familiar feeling in her chest.

Don't get attached.

"I have something to show you."

Without waiting, Emma makes her way to the living room. She stops, glances over her shoulder, and watches for Theo's reaction.

THEO BECKETT

"You left the door wide open."

Emma leaves him there in the kitchen, though she does not leave her wine glass behind. She stops at the door, inspecting it and the splintered wood littered on the floor. Exasperated, she pushes it closed.

The house is still nearly empty, so she hears his offer loud and clear.

"That pan is going to be impossible to clean."

Emma returns while she answers, and finishes her thought by bringing her wine glass to her lips. It is surprisingly sweet.

"You didn't tell anyone else I moved, did you?"

THEO BECKETT

She lifts the edge of the plate, charred remnants of an unrecognizable meal roll about on its surface. She let's it drop back against the countertop, noisy.

"Doesn't matter. I'll have wine for dinner."

From a drawer, the woman retrieves a wine opener. Frustration prompts her to peel back the wine topper and pop it open. She grabs two glasses from beneath the counter- it appears her organizing is erratic and messy- and pours them both a glass.

"Call next time."

She says this, but the uncomfortable twinge in her stomach suggests she didn't care. Seeing him was nice, even if she won't admit it.

"And you're going to fix my door."

THEO BECKETT

Emma dangles over the sink, tossing her head to coax her hair over her shoulder in order to see him. Her eyes follow him, glancing back over the other direction to spot the bottle of wine.

"I feel like we may have handled that already."

Her thoughts settle briefly on a whirlwind of emotion, skin against skin, teeth.

"Is this going to be a habit? Breaking into my home to bring me wine?"

The sink stops and she presses her hands delicately to a dish towel nearly, wincing briefly at how sensitive her skin is.

THEO BECKETT

Emma's eyes narrow and she stares at him a moment longer, scrutinizing, before glancing down the hallway where the front door stood.

She moves for the plate of burned.... something just as he moves toward her to reach for her hands.

His touch is warm and alarming, and she finds herself pulling back sharply in protest and surprise. Air is sucked through her teeth and the redness of her skin draws her attention to them.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

Emma places her own hands under the cool running water, fingers twitching with relief.

THEO BECKETT

"The front door is locked."

He approaches and she is numb, stiffly releasing her iron grip. Her eyes trail after him, bewildered, as he rinses the pan with cool water.

Only now after the pan is removed does she realize her hands are warm. In her shock and desperation she'd grabbed the pan and consequently scalded her hands.

She flexes them now experimentally.

And then realization sets in and she grabs a towel, snapping and waving it back and forth beneath the fire alarm. After several minutes of this, the alarm stops.

THEO BECKETT

Emma coughs into her shoulder for a moment, but eventually the alarm ceases its raucous squealing. It hasn't been shrieking long enough to warrant a phone call, which is why she is even more startled to hear noise at the front door.

At first, the familiar voice doesn't register. She turns quickly, eyes sharp and watery, to find an amused smile on the face of a man carrying a wine bottle.

"What are you doing here? Wh-- how did you get in?"

She still holds the frying pan, but at this point she's brandishing it like she might a bat.

THEO BECKETT

Inside, a disaster is unfolding.

She doesn't hear the knock at the door because she is too busy fanning flames at the stove. For some reason, she's forgotten that she's a terrible cook. The fire alarm begins to ring and she rushes to open a window, expression molten. Quiet, heavily accented curses stream from her mouth as smoke from the pan is redirected outside.

With two hands, the woman holds the pan near the window, frustration causing her temple to jump with every blaring beep of that godforsaken alarm.

THEO BECKETT

With every bite she leaves behind a kiss, taking her time. Her eyes flirt back to meet his gaze, though she suspects he is far too preoccupied to meet her in return.

And although she knew that this union was far from a happily ever after, it was certainly a happy now.

Eventually, Emma returns to lay claim to his lips. Painting the bedroom could wait, it seems.

THEO BECKETT