Because the Paily scene in 4x01 was perfect, but let's be honest, there's no way they're going to get their happy ending so soon. So this is partly how I envision things could go, or at least how I would be happy with them going. This would happen in the final episode of the series, I guess.

I don't own PLL or any of the characters.

It's been three years; three years since you said goodbye.

Looking back, you should have realised it was all too good to be true. You had made plans, made a future. You had both poured over maps, tracing the lines with your fingers, intending to do the same with tyres on dirt. You sighed over pictures of California, reading up on all the best things to do. Stanford had started to feel like home before you even graduated. The two of you would talk excitedly about the coming year; that excitement often turning into breathless kisses and promises of better times.

You were both so happy. So really, you shouldn't have been surprised when it all came crashing down.

The Doctor had said that your arm had suffered irreparable damage. And this was after you had almost drowned in the pool before one of the girls from the team had come in and found you; your body motionless, following the gentle movements of the water.

'Competitive swimming is out of the question,' he had said. 'I'm sorry.'

She blamed herself of course. But it wasn't her fault. You had both been so focused on acing the next meet in order to impress the Stanford coach, that all better judgement had been completely ignored. It was nobody's fault, except A's.

You were aware that technically A had done a lot worse. People around you had suffered much worse fates than your shoulder. Hell, half the town seemed to show up dead. But in a way, in a really sick, twisted way, you think this was the worst thing A could have ever done to you. The Stanford dream was no more.

You argued about it, of course. She said she didn't need to go, that you'd find somewhere else that you could both go; somewhere you could both still be together.

'Donuts and diners aren't everything,' she had said.

But you wouldn't let her. Stanford was Stanford, and she was still able to go.

Your life is pretty messed up, you had thought, when the only way to keep the person you love safe is to send them to the other side of the country.

Eventually she had relented. Between yourself, her father, and the swim coach, she agreed to go. Especially when it became apparent that yourself and the other girls may not be graduating (thanks to A's meddling, once again), as there was absolutely no way you would allow her give up her future for you.

So the two of you had sat down and done the mature thing; a conversation more mature than two scared eighteen year olds should be made to have. You discussed the possibility of trying a long distance relationship, but eventually mutually decided against it. You loved that girl, God, had you adored her, but she had a chance at a normal life now, and you knew that in order to keep her safe, you had to erase yourself from every part of her life.

This was decided the day before she left, having been given early admission. You both knew you had done the right thing, but nothing on earth, not the future, not Stanford, not even A was going to stop you from sharing this last night together.

It was bitter sweet. It was always going to be.

And then the next day, she was gone. You kept in contact for a while; you both wanted to make sure the other was safe, but after a while you stopped. It was easier that way.

Three years have passed since then. And things have changed.

A was now gone for good. The four of you had finally won. After years of constant torment and fear, the battle was over.

And you were exhausted. The four of you spent the next week together, unable to fully comprehend that everything was over; that you were all free now. Then slowly you had all come to that realisation together. There was a great deal of crying, and relief, and then talk of the future.

'What now?' one of you had asked.

But you knew what happened next, and you were ashamed it had taken you a week to work it out.

You hadn't really thought it through, you just hastily packed a bag, promised to let the other girls know how you were, booked a ticket, and taken a plane.

And now, here you were.

Worry starts to creep up on you now. It's been a year; any number of things could have changed. You have the dorm address that you got from the college and as your feet quickly carry you in that direction, your erratic heartbeat starts to match the pace of boots. You haven't spoken in over two years. You're twenty one now, and she'll be just a few months shy of that age.

You had told her not to put her life on hold for you. On that last night you spent together, you had begged her not to, she needed to live. She had just pushed you back against the bed and claimed yos lips before whispering into the shell of your ear, 'I would wait forever for you.' She had kissed every inch of your body, promises made and lips met skin. 'I will never love anyone as I love you.'

Finally, she had kissed your chest; the skin that covered your heart: 'you'll find me.'

In the time you've spent reminiscing, you realise you're now halfway across the campus courtyard. There are people everywhere, and you feel a twinge of sadness at the thought that you could have been one of them. This could have been your future. You look around, taking in this new world around you.

And then, there she is.

She smiles at a boy she had been walking with before parting ways with him, and heading in your general direction. You see her try and stuff a book into her bag (you also notice her swimming gear poking out of one end of the packed satchel). She manages the task and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear with a huff of relief. It's still long, you note. Her hair, that is. She has it in a braid, running down to midway down her back. She looks up to the sky and smiles. It is a beautiful day, after all. This all starts to feel a bit like a movie cliché to you, but you don't care. She's here.

She doesn't notice you until she's only a few feet away. You haven't moved in the last minute, rooted to the spot. When she finally looks in your direction and you make contact, she also stops in her path.

Your breath hitches. Some things never change.

You stare at each other for a long time. You don't know how long exactly, you just know that it's too long for you to bear. You feel that niggling fear start to return.

She takes a few steps towards you, and you do the same, closing the difference between you, until there's less than a foot of space between you. You're both still staring; both not saying anything. You decide it's time to break the silence before you damn near drop down dead.

'Hello.' It's simple, it's one word, and it's not at all how you planned this to go. But it's all it takes.

Because the next thing you know, the most brilliant smile has broken out onto her face and she's in your arms and finally, finally everything is okay. No, everything is perfect.

Until she's gone. The feeling of her body against yours disappears as you watch her pull back. She tries to compose herself, and her hands fiddle with the strap of her bag.

'Em…'

And you know what she's trying to say; the question she's begging to ask, but it is too scared to hear the answer to. But she doesn't need to be. There's no need for either of you to be scared ever again.

'It's over,' you say. She stares blankly back at you, her mouth falling open as a gasp finds its way out of her throat. Boldness overcomes you and you take her face in your hands (you find inexplicable comfort in the familiarity of the action): 'it's over,' you repeat.

And then that smile is back and before you can fully take it all in, she's kissing you and you're kissing her back with everything that you have, and it's like you're the only two people in the whole world.

After how long (nobody knows), you pull apart and rest your foreheads together; you do all you can to choke back a sob.

'I knew you'd find me,' she says.

You kiss her again, soundly, before taking her back in your arms and whispering into her ear, 'I always will.'

And you are Emily, and she is Paige, and you just know that for as long as you both live, you will never be parted again.

Title take from Islands by the XX