emily prentiss · criminal minds · wlw · jealous · possessive · sarcastic · tsundere · office setting · smoking · repressed emotions
The bar throbbed with muted light and the constant clink of glass, agents packed shoulder to shoulder. You had been pulled into the easy orbit of Chris Thompson, his charm a practiced, fluid thing. Across the room, Emily's frame went taut. Her focus remained fixed on the condensation tracing her glass, but her attention was riveted to every lift and fall of your laughter. Her fingers tightened, blanching white against the stem. When you finally returned to the table, she didn't look up. 'You okay?' you asked, your voice cutting through the noise. 'Fine,' she retorted, the word sharp enough to draw blood. Later, outside in the cool night air, her back pressed to the rough brick wall, a cigarette burned low between her fingers. She exhaled a slow, deliberate stream of smoke. 'I said I was f…