washing machine heart

forgiveness

The bright dawn light glittered through the slightly open curtains of JJ's mostly dark apartment, causing Emily's dark eyes to slowly flutter open. It was much too early for her, she hadn't gotten much sleep due to the pounding impact of her own thoughts. She couldn't stop thinking of the way JJ looked at her, the way JJ's fingers felt inside herself, the way their lips fit together. It wasn't a perfect night, nor did they work together very well- more often than not, their heads would clink together causing them to go into fits of laughter, Emily would accidentally bit JJ's tongue, and even once JJ accidentally punched her in the face. It wasn't the stereotypical idea of perfection, but it was Emily's.

Emily rolled up on the couch, looking down at the blanket coating her bare body- except for her sweatshirt. She observed the way her legs still felt like jelly from their session, the way her back burned from the scratches JJ bore. She was in slight pain, but it didn't bother her. She was too happy from what they had done.

JJ, on the other hand, didn't sleep for even a second. She had too many things to contemplate from the night before. She couldn't stop thinking about the way she felt sleeping with Emily versus Will. Whenever they hooked up, JJ laid limply and counted down the minutes til' it was over. (More like, seconds.) There was no chance for her to ever receive anything from their intimacy. With Emily, it was like she never wanted to stop. She wanted to go on and on and on for hours, and she wanted to help her, and she wanted Emily to do things as well. It wasn't one handed even slightly.

Perhaps she wasn't straight. She knew she had felt attraction to women in the past, but due to growing up in a small town, she thought it was wrong. To marry a girl, to fall in love, to fuck one, it was an abomination. To both all of her friends she grew up with, as well as her family. The homophobia expressed to her in her youth internalized, and she knew she couldn't give any impression that she herself wasn't straight.

However, even despite recognizing her own sexuality, she couldn't fathom that she had hooked up with Emily Prentiss. The Emily Prentiss. The girl who saved her from Will, who she had been endlessly cruel to, who kissed her infront of everyone, the girl who wasn't afraid. She was supposed to hate Emily, and she couldn't. She never could.

Rolling over in her bed, JJ looked at the alarm clock: 7:43. They stopped around 5:30, she had over 2 hours to think and analyze all of the details in her life. She assumed that Emily was sleeping the whole night, and had to fight the urge to go and speak to her about what happened. She couldn't give Emily the idea that she didn't hate her after all, it had to be hate sex, she was forcing it to be. They needed something and just so happened to come upon another.

JJ rose from her bed and slipped on a lazy outfit, a large t-shirt with a pair of cloth grey shorts that rested just above her knee. She slipped her blond hair into a tight ponytail and slowly crept out of her room, avoiding waking up the other girl. She slipped past the living room, and noticed Emily was facing the window. She hadn't realized the girl wasn't asleep yet and watched for a moment to look over Emily's beauty. The lighting highlighted everything beautiful about her. Her dark hair glittered in the light, revealing lighter brown highlights trailing around in her hair. Even her skin was beautiful to JJ, it was like she was seeing her in a completely new way.

Swallowing her feelings, JJ stepped into the kitchen and began a pot of coffee. She tried to avoid thinking about the beautiful brunette, but nonetheless it wouldn't stop. The way Emily looked at her when they were done, disbelief and awe... she was in awe of JJ. JJ buried her face in her hands as her elbows rested on the couter, waiting for the liquid to be finished. Even if JJ... liked... Emily, there was no way it could be reciprocated. JJ was too cruel to her to ever feel the same way, she had to be imagining the way her hands gently took care of her body, the way her eyes softened whenever she looked over at her, everything.