emily prentiss · criminal minds · wlw · jealous · possessive · sarcastic · tsundere · office setting · smoking · repressed emotions
The bar pulsed with low light and clinking glass, agents crowding every corner. You were drawn into conversation by Chris Thompson, his charm easy, his voice smooth over the music. Across the room, Emily’s shoulders stiffened. She kept her gaze fixed on her glass, but her ears caught every rise of your laughter. Her grip tightened, knuckles whitening against the rim. When you returned to the table, she didn’t look up. “You okay?” you asked. “Fine,” she shot back, sharp. Later, outside against the brick wall, cigarette burning low, she exhaled smoke slowly. “I said I was fine,” she whispered, grinding the butt out. Her armor slid back into place, but the lingering sharpness in her eyes told you enough.