Warnings: extreme angst; world violence (bombing)
July, August, September 2025
They say time heals a broken heart, but weeks had passed and my heart was still as raw as the night of Rossi's party. My distress was partially my fault, too. I avoided Emily like the plague. It hurt too badly to look at her. To see her be perfectly fine laughing with Morgan. Now that I knew what it was like to kiss her, be in her arms, hear her pant my name against my neck, I couldn't go back to just being friends. I couldn't pretend like nothing changed. My whole world had changed.
I worked longer days than ever. I wasn't sleeping, so often I'd leave for the Oval around 7:00 and come back at 9:00 that night. No matter how much I distracted myself with bills, memos, and meetings, nothing could stop my mind from replaying the simultaneously best and worst night of my life. I'd never get closer to heaven than I had been when Emily's lips caressed my skin.
Although I'd been avoiding Emily, my feelings were hurt when I realized she was also avoiding me. In late July, I was headed to meet with a group of representatives before they went on August recess. Myriad feelings overwhelmed me when Morgan was waiting for me at the motorcade and not Emily: relief that we wouldn't have to ride to the Capitol in awkward silence; worry that her time off would turn into a resignation; and grief for the relationship I never had.
"Good morning, Agent Morgan. Where's Agent Prentiss?" I asked, trying my best to be nonchalant.
He smirked, seeing right through me. "It'll be me and Hotch this week, Ma'am," he responded, giving me no useful information on Emily. I burned with curiosity and shame. I couldn't bring myself to follow up with him, though; I'd embarrassed myself enough. Maybe I'd still have my best friend if I hadn't let my desire ruin everything.
I became aware I needed to better hide my emotions when I snapped at Penelope. My perfect Penelope who never does anything wrong. I made my way down to the Oval for the day, stopping at her desk to see if she had any files for me. My flat affect never stopped her from trying to cheer me up. If anything it made her more tenacious to get me to smile. She teasingly asked me, "Is that what I think it is?" gesturing to the hickey left on my neck from two nights ago. Her face smirking, her voice friendly, but taunting.
Neither of us could have expected my response - it was so uncharacteristic. My tone biting, "What's it even matter, Penelope? It isn't your business what's on my neck. And for your information, yes, it IS what you think it is, if you think it's a curling iron burn." What were we in high school? Who was going to believe that?
Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open. It was also so unlike my little Penny to not have a quick response for me.
I gasped, absolutely astonished at my outburst. I had never spoken to anyone that way, let alone Penelope. "Pen...oh my god...I'm so sorry. Please, I didn't mean it. I'm just so tired. I know that's not an excuse - fuck. Forgive me?"
She smiled tightly, "It's forgotten." But it wasn't. Not by me at least. I never wanted to be that asshole who speaks like that to their staff. There's no excuse for being an asshole.
Prentiss's week off turned into two. And it was apparent she wasn't staying in the residence either. I considered opening her door to see if her stuff was still there - an indication she'd be returning - but I didn't think I could stomach seeing a vacant room on the off chance she wasn't coming back. And the longer I went without seeing her, the more embarrassed I became about that night. I was so foolish. I wondered how many nights my mind spent on her. And how she could so easily erase me from hers.
YOU ARE READING
Secrets of the West Wing
RomanceY/n has been elected President of the United States and Emily Prentiss was assigned as the head of her security detail. Y/n's safety requires they remain professional and distant. But you never choose love; it chooses you. Come read how y/n and E...
