BATES MOTEL (2013) | Drabble Collection

You Wet My Eyes, But I Don't Mind It (Emma/Norman)

Summary

Emma's early impressions of Norman.

~~~

Emma first kisses Norman in the study room behind the antiques shop, surrounded by dusty relics and her own overflowing daydreams.

She'd been thoroughly enchanted by his coltish earnestness since they met, the way he nervously wears his heart on his sleeve. And she usually isn't an initiator of kisses, but there comes a point where desire has to overcome the inertia of shyness.

Him patiently listening to her human trafficking conspiracy theory, and then calling it "peculiar", in that eccentrically charming manner of his, is what tips her over the edge, gathering the courage to lean forward and close the short distance between them. But it's also because his lips are pretty. Like, really pretty. Emma's not bi, but she notices female beauty well enough, and can confidently say that Norman Bates is, in essence, prettier than any girl she knows.

(Although that awkward meeting with his brother and mum earlier that week was...just the tiniest bit uncomfortable, in that it kinda messed with her perfectly-concocted daydream about her and Norman blending seamlessly into each other's lives. But Emma doesn't blame them. Everyone has their awkward moments sometimes, especially if viewed by an outsider who accidentally got caught in the crossfire of some familial tension.)

* * *

A trek through the woods during autumn sounds just romantic enough to be cliché, and the motive of finding out if a graveyard is fictitious or not sounds just uncharacteristic enough for two relatively sheltered kids to be exhilarating.

Emma tries not to think too hard about how she's using the thrill of adventure to fulfil her own desire to be alone with Norman.

* * *

The story of the kidnapped women and the graveyard turned out to be real, along with all those rumours about weed plantations under armed guard, and for a moment there Emma really thought she and Norman were going to die.

Talk about messed up disaster date-that-wasn't-even-a-date.

* * *

She also realises that Norman makes a habit of denying his problems, ignoring their emotional toll on him until he finally, abruptly snaps, and gets unnecessarily worked up over things.

This discovery should logically be off-putting, yet seeing his vulnerabilities so clearly has the opposite effect on her; she's viscerally reminded that he is fragile, just like her.

Emma always believed that people should be loved for their flaws, not despite their flaws. And so, her heart doubles down on its yearning affection.

Knowing that he probably has just as many insecurities as she does fuels a sense of kinship she never knew she was capable of feeling.

* * *

Her conspiracy theory turns into a full-blown investigative crusade, fuelled by Norman's shocking allegations, yet he's frustratingly reluctant to get involved. She knows he opposes only her methods and timing, not her as a person, yet why does it feel so personal?

Thinking of Norman—which she's been doing a lot lately—makes Emma question her self-esteem as much as it fills her with sweet fluttery butterflies, and the emotional trade-off feels unfair.

If she just stuck around longer, the part of her mind fearful of loneliness whispers placatingly, they'd get through all this cloak and dagger nonsense together, and perhaps by then she'd have figured out a better way to connect with him, to make him see that they're both kindred spirits looking to belong somewhere.

And perhaps, perhaps, that somewhere could be with each other.