Afire Love

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Backdated January 1, 2015
The following events are currently unknown to Emerson

Hey little girl, is your daddy home?
Did he go away and leave you all alone?
Mmm, I got a bad desire,
Oh, I’m on fire.

I’m on Fire, Bruce Springsteen

---

Emerson had once told Luca that she knew she loved him even before she was born. It was a strong statement for such a young girl. It was a strong statement for anyone at any age, really. A strong, powerful, dangerous statement. Love, in itself, was a perilous emotion. More often than not, it could bring out the worst in people. Society had taken love and strung it up in the sky with the stars to make it seem like something far off and beautiful, but it was closer than people seemed to realize. Of course, there was good in love. There were good, great, amazingly beautiful outcomes of loving someone - conversations that lead into the early hours of the morning, flowers on the kitchen table just because, a person to run back to when everyone else was at your heels. Love wasn’t bad, in that sense, on the scratching surface of it all. As one dug deeper, pulling away at the goodness and the purity, it could be seen, regrettably so, that love was more of a dying star than a shining one. Love left people absolutely weak, and envious, and possessive, and crazy, and, in the bare bones of it, a shell of who they once were. This much was undeniably true for Emerson. She was, in fact, too young to experience true, raw love. Too young, too innocent, and too terribly, terribly naive. Luca knew this the moment he laid hungry eyes on her and took the opportunity by the throat. And so, the longer Emerson stayed in the man’s arms, the less she could differentiate the feeling of falling in love and the feeling of falling apart.

Their relationship, of course, was kept secret from everyone and anyone either of them had ever known, or ever dreamed of knowing. It had to be. Age was controversial, and became even more so when love was thrown into the mess. Outsiders had every right to poke and prod and assume and fear what could go on between a girl fresh into her second year of high school and a man who had just attended the twentieth anniversary of graduating from his class. Age was a manmade concept, signifying not what intelligence one possessed, but simply the amount of time in which one lived. That was how Emerson saw it, after being praised over and over again just how intelligent and wise she really was. That was how Luca saw it, after listening to Emerson speak her mind in the light of the moon. But no matter how intelligent and wise and mature Emerson was, that was not how her parents or her friends or the majority of society saw it, and so, to avoid the legal issues, Luca taught Emerson how to lie.

Emerson and Luca started seeing one another seriously only a few weeks after her sweet sixteen cake had been sliced. They communicated through texts and calls, her school hours and his works hours too conflicting to allow them to see one another face to face. As weeks turned into months, Luca altered his hours to be able to see her, to hug her, to kiss her, all behind the safety of his own home. It became almost too easy to tell her parents that she needed to study at the library more often and that her friends were inviting her over for weekend long sleepovers. Months, then, added up to a year. Emerson was seventeen, not quite a yet an adult, at fingertip’s reach from being a woman, and a little more than half than Luca’s age. And over that year, Luca did truly, absolutely, deeply love her. He loved her, and with the consumption of the flaming feeling, he increasingly became impatient.

It was a kind of biting cold that day. A fresh carpet of snow had been rolled out the night before, and the winds carried a chill that seeped to the bone. Emerson was in the comfort of her home, bundled in soft pajamas, the heat in continuous circulation. She was in the kitchen, then, her cell phone in one hand and a large mug in another. “Happy New Year! Sorry I didn’t get to call you last night.” The clock above the stove easily read noon in neon green numbers, the bright, warm rays of sunlight that usually shone from the window above the sink tucked away behind grey clouds.

“That’s okay, bambino,” Luca hummed, sounding as if he had just woken up himself. The gruffness of his words did nothing less but get a reaction out of the girl, but luckily, due to the weather, she could play off her reddened cheeks as result of the cold if need be. “Did you stay up late?”

“No,” she sighed, pressing the phone against her ear with her shoulder to free up her right hand. The microwave was opened with little struggle, and her mug was placed inside. After setting the timer for a few minutes and transferring her device to the opposite ear, she went to the cupboard in search for an instant hot chocolate packet. “Didn’t even get to watch the ball drop,” she mumbled, slight annoyance laced in her tone.

There was a laugh emitted from the receiver that made Emerson’s heart leap in her chest. Her annoyance, then, was magically gone. “I figured as much. The cold makes you sleepy.”

And there the annoyance was again. Jade eyes were rolled, accompanied by a small huff. “And it makes you grumpy,” she muttered, grabbing the packet she had been looking for and tossing it onto the counter for later use.

“What was that?”

“Love you!” she sing-songed quickly, letting a soft giggle follow.

“Good answer.” He was smiling. “So, what’s your plan for today?”

Emerson shrugged. “Dunno. Hang around the house.” She let out a quiet yawn. All the school work she had been assigned was promptly completed, per Luca’s instruction, the same day it was given, so she could properly enjoy her time off and not end up procrastinating the night before everything was due. And so, her Christmas Eve was happily spent with her parents in their home, and her Christmas day was a merry one indeed. Aside from the New Year’s party her parents had thrown, the rest of Emerson’s days were basically spent the same. She stayed in bed, read some new material she had picked up as gifts, and kept in contact with Luca. She had yet to see the man during her time off, but with only a handful of days to spare, the chances of it happening seemed slim. “My parents went away on their yearly trip together, so.”

“Are you alone, pet?” He sounded worried, and more awake, then. Luca had always been like that. If he wasn’t available, Luca would rather have someone he absolutely despised watching over his girl than to have her be alone. Her safety was one of his highest priorities, even above his own. Emerson knew the man would die for her before he would let something bad happen to her.

“Yeah… Miss you, Sir.”

“I know. I miss you as well." There was a rustling sound, then nothing. “Remind me - when does your winter break end?”

Emerson pulled her phone away from her ear to check the calendar on her device. “Tomorrow,” she confirmed. Going back to school was not something she was looking forward to. Time had just seemed to fly by, and she felt like most of it had been wasted, in a way. Although relaxation was a good thing, the girl couldn’t help but think of all the other activities she could have busied herself with while she was away from the stress and responsibility of her studies: ice skating, snow tubing, visiting the light show attractions. She had missed out on every single one. Then again, winter wouldn’t officially end for another few months, so there was always the possibility of the future - but it was only a possibility.

“Do you think I could come pick you up and have you spend the night?” he wondered.

It was like the man could read her mind. She was convinced he was a miracle worker, or something. “I’ll text my mom. Y’drop me off back home?” She put the call on speaker to make it easier to continue their conversation while she contacted her parents.

“Don’t I always?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Silly girl,” he teased.

“Nuh uh,” she mumbled. The microwave went off, then, and she put her phone down to fix her drink. Careful not to burn herself, she reached for the handle of the ceramic mug and let it rest on the counter. The paper packet was torn open, some of the powder flying into the air.

“I quite think so.”

Emerson retrieved a spoon from the drawer and began to stir her soon-to-be hot chocolate. “Y’thinking wrong, then.”

“Oh, am I?” Emerson knew that tone. The one that made her feel so vulnerable and safe all at once.

“N-no, Sir.” Oh, the stutter. Luca was able to pull that out of her with the snap of his fingers. If her cheeks were rosy before, they were beat red now. She could feel them heating, and blew on the rim of her mug, as if the man on the opposite side of the phone could feel the heat as well and she needed to pretend it was from something other than her visible embarrassment.

Luca’s only response was a low hum. Their conversation came to a bit of a standstill, but neither one of them minded much. Emerson was happiest when she and Lucas were communicating, and it was normal to have quiet, and even silent, moments. If she were to close her eyes, it would have been no different from all the times they had sat together on the couch, or laid together in his bed, or sat opposite one another at the table for a shared meal, enjoying one another’s company without the need of conversation.

The young brunette had almost choked on a mouthful of hot - burning - chocolate as her phone let off a loud ring. Setting the drink down, she wiped her bottom lip with the back of her hand and looked over her screen.

“Did you get a response?”

“Yeah…” Emerson trailed as she read over the message. “Yeah,” she confirmed finally, allowing a small nod of her head. “Good to go. When can you be here?”

“I need to actually get myself out of bed, first. Take a shower, get dressed, make sure nothing for work comes up. Have you packed?"

“No. Don’t I leave enough stuff at the house?” Emerson had been going over the man’s place every weekend for a steady number of months. In the beginning of their relationship, she packed bags of things with the intentions of “forgetting” them, and eventually, she was able to get away with bringing less and less each visit. Luca also took as many opportunities as Emerson would allow to spoil her, and since she couldn’t keep his gifts at her house, due to the suspicion it would probably cause among her parents, the belongings were kept safe with Luca.

“Well, bring a couple things just in case. I’ll call you again when I’m leaving.”

“Sounds good, Sir.”

“Alright, Emerson. Talk soon.”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“As do I.”

She hung up after that. Based on how long it would usually take him to get ready in the morning, the girl figured that she had about an hour to herself. If something came up with work, which wouldn’t be much of a surprise, she would have an extra half hour or so. Even still, she got right to the task. Luca had always been keen on doing things as soon as possible, and Emerson’s hot chocolate needed to cool down, anyways.

Leaving the kitchen, Emerson went down the hall and up the stairs to her room. When she hit her earlier teen years, her parents worked on converting the unused attic into a living space. She had all the essentials - a bed, two dressers, a small closet, and a desk - and it was all she really ever wanted. The only thing she considered to be an extra perk was the seat by her small window that overlooked a view of trees. Luca’s house was where she allowed herself to be spoiled. She believed her parents had done more than enough for her over the years and felt guilty to take anything more, especially with the weight of the secret of her relationship with Luca on her shoulders.

Emerson grabbed a small backpack and tossed it onto her bed, and then went through various drawers and hangers to find what she thought she would need. She also changed into an outfit that would be suitable both for the weather, and Luca. Despite the low temperatures, Emerson knew that Luca liked to have her free to touch at all times. Dresses and skirts on her were undoubtedly his favorite, and she adorned herself in a black dress and with a thick sweater layered over it. A pair of knee-length black boots were pulled over her fuzzy socks, and a scarf was draped around her neck. After spending some time taming her hair and applying some makeup, she was all set and ready to go. Only thirty minutes had passed, so the girl brought her belongings and herself down to the living room, where she laid herself on the couch and busied herself by reading a book - not until her hot chocolate had been swiped from where she had left it, of course. Before she knew it, her drink was gone and her phone was ringing.

She picked it up without checking to see who it was. “Sir?”

“Mae? What’s with the formalities?”

Oh, ****. She swallowed, quickly trying to come up with something smart to retaliate with. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… “I can’t joke around with you, Dad?”

Emerson’s father, thankfully, seemed to buy it and let out a laugh. “Well, alright then, Madam. You’re going over Neha’s?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, easily going along with the story she had created for how her night would be spent. “Just for the night. She’s gonna drop me off back home in the morning, too. Don’t have to worry or anything.”

“Mom and I aren’t worried. Just checking up on you,” he explained. “You’ll call when you get there, and before you go to bed? And in the morning, so we know everything worked out okay?” To say the Vettels were protective over their daughter would be an understatement. Emerson was their only child, the only one to survive a trail of miscarriages and stillbirths. The couple was older than those of Emerson’s friends, as a result, but they didn’t mind in the slightest. They had their smart, beautiful, healthy daughter, and that was all that mattered to them.

“Yeah, ‘course. I hope you guys are having fun. Miss you.”

“We miss you too, Mae. But, hate to break it to you - we are having a lot of fun.”

Emerson laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “No worries. I know I’ll always be your favorite kid.”

“Oh, and Mae?”

“Yeah?”

“If you want to stay over Neha’s until we get back, that’s okay too. It’d probably be better than leaving you home alone.”

A lightbulb would have flicked to life above the brunette’s head if she had the ability to do so. Home with Luca for four days? What an idea. She tried not to seem too excited about it. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I can stay home...”

There was some muffled talking in the background that she couldn’t make out. “No. We insist. You deserve some time to hang out with her. Since she moved, you guys don’t see each other as much anymore.”

“Well, since you’re pulling my arm-” She started, but was cut short at the sound of knocking. The clock above the fireplace showed a time way past what Emerson had assumed it to be. “O-oh, she’s here!” she stuttered out, all but jumping to her feet. “I’ll talk to you and Mom tonight."

“Okay, dear. Have fun! We love you!”

“Right back atcha!” she said as genuinely as she could manage before thumbing the call to an end. Luca was probably pissed. Emerson was never late like this - he didn’t allow it. She gathered up her things as quickly as she could and tripped her way to the front door. A not-so-pleasant Luca was standing in the doorway.

She greeted him with a sweet smile and batted lashes. “Hi, S-”

“I called you.”

Emerson’s smile dropped to a frown. “I didn’t get it. Something must be up with my phone.”

“I appreciate the truth over you trying to save me from hurt feelings. You know that.” Luca crossed his arms over his chest before he continued. “The line was busy.”

“My parents called.” She shrugged the bag into a better position on her shoulder. “And your call didn’t beep in, or anything.” She let out a sigh. “Regardless, m’sorry. For not answering your call and for lying.”

Luca let out a long breath and slowly unfolded his arms, letting them drop to his side. “Thank you for apologising, pet. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. I was just worried.” He ran a hand through his casually styled hair. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you, Sir. You look handsome as always.”

His face broke out into her favorite smile. “Such a sweet girl. Now, where’s my hug?”

Putting her bag down as to not crush it, Emerson closed the already small space between the two. Luca, due to his height, bent down so the girl could wrap her arms around his neck. His came to hold around her waist, and when he straightened to his full height, the young brunette was quite literally swept off her feet. After a few seconds, she was placed back down on the ground. A loving kiss was pressed into her hair before he released her entirely. Emerson grabbed her bag, properly locked up the house, and let Luca lead her to the car. He opened the door for her, helped her buckle in, and closed the door before getting into his own seat and pulling out of the driveway. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her bare upper thigh, they started their journey to his home.

Luca turned on the car radio, letting soft piano notes fill the background noise. He mostly listened to classical and Italian music, and put up with some of Emerson’s selections from time to time. He’d never admit it, but some of her song choices were some of his favorites. “What’d your parents call about?” he asked.

“Just to check up on me. Told them I was going to Neha’s. They also said I could stay over until they get back from their vacation...” She shrugged her shoulders, but couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face.

“That’s four days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Y’busy?”

Luca shook his head, a matching smile on his face. “Not out of the usual. I might have to break away for work from time to time, but I’ll try to have all that happen while you’re in school.” He gave her thigh a light squeeze. “I’m so excited, micino. I haven’t had you all to myself for this long in a while.”

Emerson was beaming. She’d only ever been in one relationship prior to dating Luca. It was over the course of her freshmen year with a girl who didn’t have as open minded parents as Emerson had, and as a result, ended horribly. Even if the judgment has been taken out of the relationship anyway, Emerson would’ve regrettably had to admit that it still wasn’t the greatest situation she could have been in. The girl couldn’t handle all the love and attention Emerson had to offer, and in turn, ended up pushing her away and making up scenarios to avoid it. But with Luca, everything was different. She was someone to get excited over, someone to want to spend time with. It made her feel so important and loved, and she was absolutely, completely, terrifyingly obsessed with the feeling.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Once they arrived at the house within a handful of minutes, the car was parked in the garage and Luca was helping Emerson out of the passenger seat. The girl, with her bag in hand, was all set and ready to go through the door and up the stairs into the house, but Luca seemed to have other ideas. His hands found her hips and pressed her smaller frame against the car door, closing it in the process. His fingers came to grip around a handful of her free strands of dark hair, using them to gently tilt back her head and give him easier access to plant a hungry kiss on her mouth. The kiss took Emerson by such surprise that all she could do was drop her bag and let out a small sound against Luca’s lips. When she had composed herself, complying to his touch by running her hands down the material of his shirt, Luca let out something like a low growl. She’d heard it before, in a teasing manner on the rare occasions in which she would call him ‘Lion’, but this was something else. With a small bite on her bottom lip, Luca pulled away. Oh. With a quick glance, Emerson noticed that her hands had moved farther down than she had realized. She withdrew them and bent down to get her bag.

“What was that for?” she asked once she stood, breathless, her hair a slightly tousled mess.

“Can’t I kiss my little Emerald hello?”

A blush on her cheeks and the duck of her head was her only response. She followed closely behind Luca as he unlocked the door and entered the house. Emerson had always loved the man’s home. She felt that it was just the right size for the two of them, and could always imagine what her future life would be like if she were to permanently move in with him. When she wasn’t around, the girl wondered if Luca ever got lonely walking down the long, empty halls. He did, of course, have friends (and family, she assumed, since he never really mentioned them) that he invited over, but Emerson liked to think that it was different to have her over than to have others’ company. Emerson liked to think that she filled a certain kind of loneliness in Luca’s heart.

“Did you have lunch yet?” Luca dropped his keys into a bowl on a nearby table and toed his shoes off by the door.

Emerson shook her head, following suit in removing her footwear. “No. Woke up right before I called you. Didn't even eat breakfast.”

He smiled. “What a coincidence. Well, I can make us something to eat. Anything in particular you’d want?” Luca, being Italian, sure did love his food, and in turn, was a self-taught, fabulous cook. He enjoyed being in the kitchen and preferred to be the one making the meals over Emerson. Despite the popular roles of the genders, Luca didn’t think a woman had to be in a kitchen, or that a man had to stay out of it. He would, of course, allow Emerson to help him. One time they had planned to make a batch of cookies from scratch, and being the clumsy girl that she was, Emerson ended up spilling flour all over Luca’s front before they had even begun. The whole ordeal had ended in a full blown flour-throwing war, a huge mess to clean, and lots of giggles and kisses. And no cookies. It was one of Emerson’s favorite moments with Luca.

Emerson shook her head, pulling off her sweater and unwinding the scarf from her neck. Luca took both from her and hung them on a nearby peg that he knew she wouldn’t be able to reach. “Anything’s good.”

“Anything?” Luca raised an eyebrow. “Say I wanted... Oh, I don't know. Surf and turf?” He was teasing. He had to have been, since Emerson hadn’t had fish or any meat, regardless, for who knew how long. She grew up on a vegetarian diet and it just kind of stuck, especially with her love for animals in forever full swing.

Emerson crinkled her nose. “Icky. Can you make that thing I like?”

Luca knew what she was was going to say before she even said it - manicotti, although Americanized, was a dish Luca had the recipe both memorized and mastered. Emerson had first tried it when he brought home some food from one of her favorite restaurants for a date night in since they couldn’t quite go out in public romantically, and Emerson discovered it to be her favorite. And then Luca, set on winning her over in every aspect, made her some of his own the following date night, and she confirmed that his manicotti was her favorite. “What’s the magic word?”

With pouted lips and batted lashes, she said, “Please, Sir?” And it was enough to drive the man absolutely wild.

“Such a good girl. ‘Course I can. Go drop off your bag in the room while I start.”

And, of course, Emerson did as she was told. Careful not to slip on the hardwood floors in her socks, the brunette ran up to the third floor and down the hall. Luca’s bedroom - theirs, when she stayed over - was one of the biggest rooms of the upstairs. The door was shut, and she opened it gently. Everything looked how she remembered it: a large bed in the center of the room, neatly made of a white comforter and pillows and joined with a small side table; a closet and two bureaus that held clothes belonging to the pair; a tall bookshelf split horizontally - the top few shelves had books belonging to Luca and the bottom few had some of the girl’s favorites. A couple of the girl’s other belongings sat by the edge of his bed, not having been tucked away. After putting down her bag on Luca’s reading chair, she figured it would do her good to do some tidying. They were her messes, after all.

After tucking away a stray coloring book, stuffed toy, and a pair of shorts, Emerson was left with one of her chokers in hand. She wasn’t sure quite where to put it. Luca would want it out of sight, just in case any guests were to come over his place. Although no one he knew was disrespectful enough to venture into his private bedroom, both the man and Emerson knew that people had their suspicions about why Luca wasn’t going out to bars or restaurants as much as he used to. All it would take was one nosy person to find the thin black necklace to know something was up. There was no way Luca could play it off successfully, and because of this, Emerson set out to hide it away someplace safe. Luca wasn’t one to wear jewelry himself, so there wasn’t somewhere predetermined. She’d have to pick a spot herself, and that’s just what she did. The bedside table seemed discreet enough to outsiders, but easily identifiable if the girl were to ever wear the necklace again. For a moment, she hesitated. She’d never seen Luca open the small drawer to the table. Was there something in there that he didn’t want her to see? He wasn’t one to keep secrets, but he did shield her away from ‘grown up’ things from time to time.

Taking her chances, Emerson opened the drawer. To her surprise, it was practically empty. The only things occupying the space were a few small, silver wrapped square packages.

“Oh,” she mumbled to herself, clumsily moving to shut the drawer. Her necklace would have to find a different home, but Emerson couldn’t think about that then. Luca had... condoms? The two had never had sex before for a number of reasons. The main one was the fact that Emerson felt that she was too young. Legally, to an extent, it wouldn’t matter, but things could get twisted if the word got out and she didn’t want Luca to suffer the consequences. Especially if something went wrong and she winded up pregnant. That wasn’t something she could exactly keep a secret from her parents. Then again, she and Luca had been together for quite some time. She knew that he had been with other girls beforehand, but that would mean these condoms were probably expired if they were from so long ago. Right? Why would he keep them then, so close to the bed like that?

“Emerson?” Luca was yelling from the bottom of the stairs. Had she really been gone for so long? “Are you alright up there?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, as the sound of his footsteps pounded up the stairs, and before she knew it, Luca was pushing the slightly ajar door open all the way. He looked around the room for anything out of the ordinary before blue eyes landed on his confused girl. “Oh, pet.” He let out a long breath. “You scared me.” When her expression didn’t change, he stepped into the room. Fear was replaced by concern. “Is something wrong?”

Emerson really wanted to form words and communicate, but her tongue felt like sandpaper in her mouth. She wasn’t even sure how to express herself. And so, all she did was embarrassingly point to the bedside table.

Luca’s gaze followed Emerson’s painted fingernail. He frowned, slightly, already knowing what was stored away there. “Did you look?”

She nodded, saying nothing verbally and feeling like an absolute child because of it. Her mind was racing so fast that she could barely keep up with what irrational thing he would spit out at her next. Was this was where he was going to break the news to her about how she was too young, too childish, too prude, too annoying? Not what he wanted? Not what he needed? The thoughts completely broke her heart, and they weren’t even true.

Another long breath was let out of his nose, and he brought a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. It was a habit of his, she had learned. “Can we sit and talk about it?”

She shook her head, and somehow, found her voice. The overthinking part of her brain took over her response. “No. Can you just tell me, right now?”

Luca blinked. Emerson rarely ever said no to him. She waited, seeing if he would scold her, but nothing came, and she continued. “Why do you have..?” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it. The word felt dirty in her mouth.

Luca couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips on the edges. “Is it not obvious? I want to have sex with you, baby.”

“Sir!” she squeaked, pressing her palms to her cheeks in embarrassment. “M’too young.”

“You’re seventeen, now.” Which was, Emerson had to admit, a year past the legal age of their state, and technically speaking, not too young. Luca stepped closer to her, removing her hands and replacing them with his own. His thumbs came to brush over her cheekbones. She tried to relax.

“What if someone finds out?"

“You think I’m gonna **** you on the street?” There was amusement laced in his words. He shook his head. “Only in this house. We’re only ever in this house, aren’t we?”

She nodded slowly. Of course, he had an answer for everything, as if he had been preparing their current conversation for quite some time. It wasn’t irrational for her to think that, either. Luca was good at planning and organizing things. He was a good problem solver and he always thought long, hard, and logically before decisions were made. Having sex, for Emerson, at least, was a rather big deal. It would be quite the jump for their relationship, too, so it made perfect sense that Luca would spend some time on it, on what could go wrong, on how to prevent that. But there was still one thing that hadn’t been mentioned yet.

“Y’could get me pregnant, couldn’t you?”

“Not if I'm careful. I'm always careful with you. My delicate little flower," he reminded her, his voice like a hum.

His reasoning made all the sense in the world. They were prepared. They were taking every precaution in the book. And, even still, she found herself shaking her head and backing out of his hold. “I still don’t think we’re ready. That I’m ready,” she corrected herself quickly.

Luca was quiet for a bit. “Do you not trust me?” It was his biggest fear, she knew.

“'Course I trust you,” she mumbled, chipping away at her nail polish to distract herself. Luca had always taken care of her, ever since day one. He knew all her secrets, and she knew (or she thought she knew) all of his. He never judged her, and he was always there for her in any way, shape or form, at any time, in any place or situations that she needed him to be. She knew none of that would change if they were to sleep together. In fact, she felt that they would only trust one another more. And yet the doubt in the back of her mind won her judgment.

“Then... What’s going on? Something else bothering you?” She thought he sounded worried. She thought he sounded concerned. Her brain had been trained to translate the tones of his voice into what she wanted to hear, leaving her deaf to the fact that he was actually starting to get annoyed.

“Dunno.” She shrugged her shoulders weakly. Because she really, really didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know why she was so nervous about the whole ordeal. Her friends had sex with people in her school, and she could accept it and talk with them and joke with them about it with them no problem. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the circumstances between her and Luca were very different than the usual case. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that her insecurities were running wild and all she wanted was to be good enough for him.

“You don’t know?" With each question, Luca’s frustration became more and more obvious. With each question, panic was setting in on Emerson’s end and all she wanted to do was be held. She tried to ask him, to stop the conversation and give it a rain check, but he cut her off before she could even open her mouth. “Fine. It’s fine.” But Luca didn’t sound fine. He sounded mad and frustrated, and even a little disappointed - in her. It made Emerson’s stomach twist. “If you don’t know, you don’t know. And I have to be the good guy and let you figure that out.”

He had to be the good guy.

Had to.

“B-but you always help me figure st-”

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but not this time. I can’t help with this.” The weird thing about Luca when he was mad was that he never yelled. He didn’t have to. The glare in his beautiful blue eyes was enough to make Emerson want to shrivel up into herself. And he continued, still. “This is something you need to help yourself with.” And she knew he was right, and it broke her heart. She didn’t know how to respond. How could she? Her head was spinning and what was left of her heart was racing and her tongue was feeling like sandpaper all over again. After Luca realized Emerson wouldn’t be giving a response, the man turned and walked out of the room, closing the door harder than he usually would have.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Luca and Emerson never experienced awkward moments. There were no awkward silences - only comfortable ones. They loved one another and understood one another so much that nothing was awkward. And yet, the lunch that followed their not so successful discussion was nothing less than the epidemy of awkward. The tension in the air was as sharp as a needle, and hell, Emerson wanted to prick her finger with it and fall into an endless sleep. She hated the awkwardness, and she hated herself for causing it, and she hated being mad at herself. What was worse was that Luca was mad at her, too. They were sitting opposite of one another, and neither one of them were talking. Every time Emerson tried to catch his eye, Luca would look away. Every time she built up enough courage to open her mouth and try to explain herself, Luca would cough, and Emerson took it as a sign to not even bother. His silverware scraped and clinked against his plate, while Emerson’s meal remained practically untouched.

When he finally spoke, he asked, “Are you going to eat?” his voice lacking its usual honey-dripped tone. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it onto his empty plate. Elbows were propped up on the tabletop, his fingers intertwined.

She sighed. She didn’t care all that much about eating, then. “Sir, I just wanna t-”

Luca dropped his forehead to his hands, rubbing at his temples with his thumbs, and Emerson bit down on her tongue so quickly that the pain came as a shock. He sighed deeply before he spoke. “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”

And, of course, Emerson did as she was told. The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, picked up her fork, and poked at her food. With each slow, small bite she took, Luca took a sip of wine, and Emerson tried to not let it bother her too much. Luca was a grown man, after all. He knew how to take care of himself, so surely he would know how much alcohol he could handle, and it was none of her business, anyway. Luca's phone, face down on the table, buzzed a few times, and he didn’t hesitate to check it. He had a rule about no technology at the table, and if he were to get any notifications, even if they were for work, he wouldn’t check on them until after the table had been cleared. Apparently, when Luca was mad, that rule was out the window. A lot of things seemed to be out the window, actually.

When Emerson had a little less than three morsels left, she looked up at Luca expectantly. He replied with a small nod that barely provided any relief on the girl’s part.

“Can we talk now?” she asked quietly, gently setting her fork down.

“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “What else is there to say?”

“M’sorry, Sir. I want to be good for you, but… That’s one thing I can’t do. Not right now.”

Luca had expected that from Emerson. The apology. Whenever they fought, even if Emerson wasn’t at fault, she'd apologize her heart out. Luca learned over the months that it was the only way she could think to fix anything. That, and being on her best behavior. He didn’t mind either, obviously, but it just came to show what little capability Emerson had in taking care of herself. And that was where Luca came in. Usually. “It’s fine.” Was it? “You don’t have to be sorry.” But didn’t she?

“We could… Compromise?” It was a weak suggestion, but it was a suggestion all in the same. Luca leaned back in his seat, an eyebrow raised. She’d caught his attention, but the uncertainty in her voice made him realize a lot of things, and she was totally oblivious to it all.

“We have nothing to compromise about, Emerson." And his tone told her there was no use in arguing.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Sir,” she begged softly.

He hesitated as if he was carefully picking his words. It was something to be suspicious about, but Emerson brushed it off, like she brushed off the drinking, like she brushed off him checking his phone, like she brushed off every harsh tone and every flaw in their relationship and in Luca, too. “I’m not mad, or disappointed, or frustrated. Don’t worry so much, okay?” He smiled for the first time since they sat down, and Emerson ate it all up.

She didn’t say anything for a while. Any idea that came to her mind was the wrong idea, anything she wanted to say was the wrong thing to say. Emerson didn't want to mess up anymore. She stayed quiet, finishing the last of her meal, even though it had gone cold, even though it tasted like something was missing, like Luca had rushed the recipe or didn't care enough to get it right. And then, in the smallest of voices, she asked, “Can y'hold me?"

“Of course.”

Emerson got up from her seat, the legs screeching across the hardwood floor as she pushed back her chair, and cautiously walked around the table to stand before Luca. He stayed seated, a hand trailing up her leg, her hip, all the way to the spot under her ribs. She giggled softly, and Luca’s smile grew. His features looked softer. Maybe he was calm. Maybe he wasn’t mad anymore. Maybe everything really was fine. He stood after that, taller than the young brunette by a long shot, his strong arms coming to pull her in and crush her against him. She took a long breath, palms traveling up his back, feeling his heat and his muscles through the material of his shirt. They stayed together for a bit, gently rocking back and forth, Emerson's fears and worries leaving her mind and Luca's anger and frustration only being put on hold. Luca’s phone buzzed for the nth time that night. It was a call, this time. “I should take this. It’s work. You can entertain yourself okay?”

Emerson reluctantly broke from his embrace. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Pushing up onto her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to what she could reach - the top of his shoulder. This caused Luca to laugh, and he dramatically ducked down so the girl could give him a proper kiss on the mouth. Then he was sliding past her, grabbing his phone off the table. She watched him stand and tap the screen for a bit, his once-there smile dropping to a frown. The device was put to his ear, and his voice was too low for Emerson to catch onto anything. It mattered little, because whatever she would have been able to hear would have been in full-on Italian. She quietly followed him out of the kitchen and saw him turn into the office and shut the door. She could have sworn she heard the door lock, too. He never locked the door.

Trying to stay out of the way and make herself useful, Emerson started on the dishes. The table was cleared and the dishes, cups, and silverware were rinsed and carefully put into the dishwasher. She threw away the dirty napkins and grabbed the bottle of wine that remained. She moved to tuck it away in its home, thought better of it, and poured a second glass for Luca for when he returned from his work. He’d need it, probably. He’d always told Emerson that wine kept him calm. Kept him sane. She owed him. If anything at all, she owed him that much.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Backdated January 10, 2015
The following events are currently unknown to Emerson.

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?
And can he do to you the things that I can do?
Oh no, I can take you higher.
Oh, I’m on fire.

I’m on Fire, Bruce Springsteen

---

The end of her winter break had arrived, Emerson was back in school, and she wasn’t excited about it in the least. Jumping back into her work took a lot more willpower than she had anticipated it to, and all she wanted was to curl up in bed and do nothing for at least a week more. She considered skipping out on some of her classes or leaving early, but she knew Luca would have her *** for it. The man found education to be extremely important and would’ve most likely been sending Emerson to after school tutoring (not that she really needed it all that much) if it didn’t interfere with their time spent together. He wanted to send her away to college, too. Somewhere big and expensive and important, by the sounds of it.

Emerson wasn’t so sure. About any of it. School, college - she didn’t think she was cut out for any of it. But she’d do as she was told, and if Luca said she was going to college, then so be it.

After the first night, sex wasn’t brought up again, and Emerson was thankful for that. She felt bad enough as it was, the guilt lingering in the back of her mind no matter how many times she convinced herself that everything was fine. The only thing that bothered Emerson more were Luca’s silent flashes of anger. If not for a careful eye, the incidents would have gone unnoticed, and sometimes, Emerson wished they had. In the middle of the nights she remained at Luca’s, she’d discover the left side of the bed to be empty and cold. Luca seemed less inclined to compliment and praise Emerson until she brought his attention to the chore she had done or the high grade she had gotten on her schoolwork or the outfit she was wearing that day, and he was always blowing off doing activities with her for work. It was always work. It had always been work. But never before Emerson.

Emerson felt like she and Luca were strangers.

A week had gone by and it was a Saturday. Emerson was spending her day, as she always did, at home with Luca. He had let her sleep in (or forgot to wake her up), set out the leftovers from a batch of pancakes he’d made, and let her accompany him in his office for however long he’d be in there for. By the looks of it, it seemed like it was going to be a long time. The brunette was currently on the floor working on a one hundred piece puzzle while Luca typed away at his laptop and talked on the phone. She knew better than to bother him. When he hadn’t moved from his desk by the time noon rolled around, Emerson made herself a peanut butter and banana sandwich and put together a turkey one for Luca. He thanked her with a kiss on the temple and a small swat on her backside. At least the physical aspect of their relationship was the same. She held onto it.

The puzzle was finished all too quickly, and Luca didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. And if he couldn’t come to Emerson, Emerson would come to him. Still on all fours, she crawled her way over to his chair and sat herself down on his left. He didn’t notice her right away, but when he did, a hand came down to run over her hair, and she nuzzled into his touch, staying quiet. There was another man on the screen, talking with Luca about things she didn’t understand. She never really knew what he did for work. He didn’t like to talk about it, and she respected his privacy. As she sat there, she assumed that Luca was purposely replacing most of his words in Italian on purpose so she wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse into that aspect of his life. How bad could it have been? Luca was a kind man, even if he did run off a short temper from time to time. The girl could see him working with money or in the field of business, but what his occupation was specifically was in the open air.

When the other man excused himself to take a call, Luca pointed Emerson to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. She hesitated at the task but complied all the same. How could she not? She’d do anything, especially under their current circumstances, to make him happy. With a quick glance inside the fridge, it didn’t seem like the man was low on drinks, which could mean one of two things - he was either keeping up on his stock or not drinking enough to make a dent in it. She shook her head and passed the bottle over to him. She remembered his words from days before: don’t worry so much. And so, she didn’t. Emerson found herself retreating to the loveseat placed at the other side of the room. She settled in for a nap, and Luca let her.

Emerson was a dreamer. Many people would openly admit that some of their nights lacked dreams, but the girl was not one of those people. However short, however silly, however meaningless, she always dreamt while she slept, and naps were not excluded from this. Her mind wandered to the happier times she’d had with Luca. When she was freshly sixteen. When they were just starting to get to know one another. When there was no pressure of having to be anything or do anything.

The pair had always spent a lot of their time outside, in the large stretch of grass and woods that took up Luca’s back yard. They had laid underneath the stars, and Luca would point out the constellations and tell their stories. They had planted a garden together, with Emerson’s favorite flowers and vegetables and fruits that they harvested come spring. They had fed the ducks by the stream, and they had waded through the chilling water and occasionally splashed one another in the process. They had helped one another in setting up a tire swing, and Emerson could feel Luca’s hands on her back like it was just yesterday.

And then she was laughing, swinging up high enough to touch the clouds. She was in the clouds, floating on cloud nine, her heart was filled with so, so much joy. She could see Luca over her shoulder, smiling, his eyes gleaming brighter than any star, even the sun. And then, all too soon, the sky began to change. Darkness crept its way slowly, liked spilled paint. The fluffy white clouds turned to grey. There was a drop of rain that hit her forehead, rolled down her nose, and stopped at her lips. And then there was a downpour. Her hair became heavy and damp, and her clothes stuck to her like a second, icy layer of skin. She was freezing, shivering, and slipping from the seat of the tire swing. Emerson gripped the rope tighter, watching as the trees began to sway. A loud crack struck through the air and she watched a nearby branch snap and fall. She swung faster, faster, faster, and tried to yell out to Luca to slow down, but her own voice couldn’t even be heard over the rumble of thunder that echoed through the sky. She searched for him, on the ground and in the sky, and even when a streak of lightning lit up the stormy sky, he was nowhere to be found. And Emerson was left there, alone, swinging and swinging and screaming and screaming and deathly, deathly cold.

Green, terrified eyes shot open, and the dream disappeared. There was no swing, no tree, no storm. She was in Luca’s office. She felt as if she was still dangerously flying through the sky, and took a few moments to realize that she was being roughly shaken. Turning over, Emerson found Luca standing above her.

“My little girl.” His voice was low. He had a lopsided smile that wasn’t as cute as Emerson had wanted it to be. The shaking stopped, but his hand still lingered, fingers curled around her shoulders.

“What’s going on, Sir?” She got up from the couch slowly, shaky on her feet. His hands lingered still.

“Work’s all done. Now I can have you all to myself.”

She smiled weakly. “Great.” She paused, hesitated, and took her chances to speak. “Did you have anything else to drink?” She couldn’t see past him to see if any other beer bottles had been opened. How long had she been out for? The blinds were still shut, not allowing sunlight nor moonlight to bleed into the room.

His smile faltered. “Why the **** does it matter?”

Emerson winced. Luca swore in front of her sometimes, but he shied away from it if he could. His tone wasn’t one that sat too well with her stomach, either. “It doesn’t. Just a q-”

“Then why did you ask?”

She shrugged her shoulders, looking down in defeat. “I-I dunno.”

He laughed bitterly, grip tightening. “Just like you don’t know if you want to **** me, right?”

The comment took Emerson a bit by surprise and she swallowed hard. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Her voice was hoarse.

“Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?” There was no need to step closer to her when he could just as easily yank her towards him, and that he did, sending the girl stumbling over her own feet and pressing her hands against his chest to steady herself. She looked up at him. While his height and strong frame was usually comforting and protective, it felt kind of overwhelmingly. Kind of overpowering.

“I-I said I don’t wanna talk about that.” When she’d regained her balance, she tried to slip past him. Somehow, he was quicker. A hand found its way around her throat, the other holding the back of her neck. Trapping her in place. Trapping the air in her lungs.

“You think you can walk away from me? Don’t you remember who you belong to?”

Out of shock, and due to the rising panic in her chest, Emerson couldn’t find the words to respond and instead reached up to claw at his hands. Unlike many other girls, her nails were blunt and made the task of scratching him much more difficult. Impossible, so it seemed, when his grip didn’t even lessen as she dug into his flesh. Instead, he shook her roughly. When she shut her eyes, she saw the storm, the swing. Her head and body moved as if she were a rag doll. “Answer me.”

“You,” she gasped out, tears pricking her eyes. “I belong to y-”

He didn’t let her finish, pushing her body back down onto the loveseat. Emerson was falling off the swing, falling onto her back, the soft grass catching her limp body. When she opened her eyes, she saw Luca climbing on top of her and felt her wrists being pinned above her head before she could even react. Her body racked with sobs and she went back to the storm. She let the rain fall, the lightning strike, and she prayed that she would be hit with it.

“I do so much for you, and I don’t get a simple **** in return?” Emerson kicked her legs, squirming her body in every which way in hopes of being released. There was no use in yelling, no matter how much her throat itched to scream. Luca lived in an area where the houses were widely spread apart. The neighbors were nowhere nearby and seeing a car on the street was a rarity. Her phone was upstairs on the bedside table (and damn that bedside table to hell), and she couldn’t remember if Luca still had his in his pocket or if it was so close, so far on his desk. With a sinking feeling, the girl realized that she was absolutely alone. “Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?”

“Sir, please, pl-”

“You won’t **** me and now you won’t answer me?” His yells went in sync with the thunder. It was all too loud. Her ears, her head, and her heart ached. “And you disrespect me, thinking you can walk away? After everything I’ve done?” She was crying. By God, she was crying. Tears were trekking down her face, leaving behind trails of makeup. Makeup she had put on for him. Tears she was crying for him. Him. It was always for him. Everything was always for him - her good grades, her outfits, her completed chores, her heart. And all of her responsibilities were pushed aside to put him first. He was always put first, before school, before friends, before family. If she had a job, if she had work, he’d be put before it too. “What more do you want from me, baby? What more do you want?”

“P-please-”

“You’re going to run off with some whiny little *****, aren’t you? From your school? Think they’ll treat you better than me? Do all the things I’ve done for you?”

She couldn’t answer. Her vision was a blurred mess, a crossover between a stormy field and a flaming office room, and there wasn’t enough air in her lungs to support her sobs and her speech at the same time. She twisted her wrists but they were trapped. She kicked her legs but they were trapped. She was trapped, and she was crying, and Luca was still yelling. His hot breath was on her face but she was so undeniably cold. She didn’t listen to his words. She couldn’t listen to his words. There were none. There was nothing but the thunder, the lightning, the rain, the anger in his eyes and the forever growing wave of fear that threatened to sweep her up and pull her under. She didn’t want to fight him. She didn’t want to hurt him. She just wanted him to stop. She wanted all of it to stop.

And so she screamed.

Emerson screamed so loud that the sound tore from the back of her throat. She screamed so loud that it caught Luca by surprise and cut him off. She screamed so loud that the storm in her dream faded away, leaving her with the storm of her reality. The grip on her wrists was released, then the pressure on her legs. He was clambering off her, coming to his senses - sobering up, coming down from an adrenaline rush, or calming down, Emerson didn’t know. She closed her eyes again and was thankful to only be met with the darkness of her lids. Her chest racked, as if she were still on that swing, still being shaken, with each short puff of air allowed into her straining lungs. The tears continued to fall.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh, Christ, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Emerson couldn’t bring herself to move from the position Luca had forced her into.

“****. Micino, please. Please talk to me.”

She didn’t say anything. She could still feel his hot breath on her face, his hands around her wrists, his body weight crushing her into dust. Her blood ran absolutely cold, and she couldn’t stop shaking.

“Can you breathe? Baby, you’re going to make yourself pass out. Do you need me to hold you? Should I bring you somewhere?” She heard his footsteps come closer, and a small, strangled sound came from the back of her throat that made it burn. She forced her body to turn away from him, knees pulling up to her chest. And the footsteps stopped.

Emerson wasn’t sure how long she and Luca were like that - her, frantic on the couch, and him, frantic and standing by her. Eventually, she was able to calm down. It could have been minutes later. It could have been hours later. She’d lost track of time. She’d lost track of reality. Her breathing was normal, slow, in through her nose and out through her mouth. The tears stopped and dried on her cheeks. Her hair was a tousled mess, and her wrists were a soft pink. Her neck was a soft pink, and so were her shoulders. Her legs ached. Her lungs ached. And, most importantly of all, her heart ached. She could barely comprehend what had happened. She couldn’t even begin to think of it as anything other than the worst, worst type of nightmare. That was not her Luca. That was not the Luca that cared for her and kept her safe and loved her. And she told herself this, over and over and over again, hoping she would believe it. Because even in that moment, she loved him. She had always loved him. Emerson knew in her heart that she had loved Luca before she was born, before the world was born, before the stars were born. She realized she would always love him, but failed to realize that falling in love and falling apart were two very, very different things.

And either way, she was going to burn.