Face it, I'm better.
Keep dreaming, buddy.
I'll always be better. Mark my words, Swan. Whatever you do in life, I'll do it first.
Right… I'm getting transferred at the end of the month. We'd hardly see each other again.
Oh no, you won't get rid of me. I'll be in your life forever, Emma. You can count on it.
/-/
She shouldn't. She knows she shouldn't. They aren't teenagers anymore. They are adults - responsible adults - with mortgages or rents due at the beginning of the month, health insurances and working schedules. They are respectable people, both of them with successful careers in which they are considered undisputable professionals.
But she hasn't seen Will in person in five years. Skype is a wonderful invention, it is, but there are certain things you cannot do in Skype. Like the one she's desperately trying to resist the temptation to do, as he's leaning over the counter at the coffee shop, leaving his best asset - his words, not hers - exposed to the world.
Or her hands.
So she does the most childish thing she's done in five years - funny how that happens every time she's around Will - and her hands reach out to grab his butt and give it a hard squeeze.
Will jumps startled and Emma laughs, patting his behind a little for good measure. But her laugh dies on her lips the moment he turns around his face and Emma is looking at some wide blue eyes that are clearly not Will's. The stranger tilts his head over his shoulder as an amuse look comes to his eyes at the sight in behind him. His eyes scan down as much as possible, an eyebrow lifting at Emma's hands still resting on his ass.
She finally snaps out of it, and blushed profusely as she removes her hands.
"Oh my god," she says as she takes a step back and averts her gaze.
"Oh please, love. Don't stop on my account," the stranger teases. He has an lilting accent and Emma lifts her head to look at him. He seems amused, his blue eyes dancing with mischief as he bites his lower lip. He has dark hair, tousled as if he's been carelessly running his fingers through it and a light scruff adorns the chiseled lines of his face.
Emma loses her train of thoughts for a second, her mouth gaping at the pretty picture standing in front of her - it is quite a pretty picture, she has to admit. Her eyes scan from the features of his face to the lean lines of his tall and muscular body.
He clears his throat and she blushes further as her eyes find his again. He's cocking an eyebrow at her smugly and Emma decides that escape is the only route.
When in doubt, run like hell. That has been her life motto and she fails to see why she should do anything different right now.
"Look I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else. I - I have to go!" she all but yells the last line as she's retreating into the door in a non-very valiant - ok, totally coward - way.
"Wait!" she hears as she turns around and the stranger calls after her. "At least tell me your name, lass?"
No way.
She makes her way out of the coffee shop and quickly gets into her car, inserting the key into the ignition before she exhales deeply and bumps her forehead against the wheel. One question still remains in her head.
Where the fuck is Wil!?
As if being summoned by magic, her phone chirps with a new message, the selected beep tone letting her know that it's from her old-time friend.
Sorry, princess. Something came up. But the good news is that I'm settled in my new house. Come in tonight for a housewarm party?
Damn you, Scarlett.
/-/
Well, she has to hand it to him, Will has done good with his life. Who knew back in the day the bastard will have a knack for digital innovation? Emma whistles under her breath a the modern style condo that he was calling his new home. That looks expensive and her first thought is that he really one-up her on this one. She loves her flat and wouldn't trade it for the world, but this place looks good. Will did good and after the first competitive streak wears off, she's genuinely smiling at his friend's' success. And she's happy that he's finally decided to settle down and close to her on top of everything.
She rings the bell, balancing an imported beer case under her arm. She could have gone for an expensive bottle of wine, but Emma and Will are beer type of people, trading their origins back to the times they used to stealthy sneak a bottle out of their foster parents and sharing it underneath the stars.
Emma is lost in her reminiscence of the not-so-good ol' days when the door opens.
"Finally, Scarlett, I thought I was going to grow old in he-" she starts talking before lifting her eyes but the moment she does, she almost drops the beer case. The air leaves her lungs as she stands there, shockingly looking at the set of blue eyes looking back at her and all she manages is one word.
"You?"