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Alex couldn't stop smiling. They were at a fancy restaurant. Alex couldn't remember which one, and didn't care. He had taken Emma there because he wanted her to feel special, wanted to show her he didn't take her for granted like he realized he had done for too long.
Emma had always been there for him, ever since she could walk. She had been the annoying little brat who followed her everywhere when he visited the Woodhouses with John to play with Izzy. She had wobbled along behind him and when he finally let her catch him, she had pointed her stubby little finger at his bright blue t-shirt with a big pink daisy on it (his mother had made him wear it even though John had told him that boys in school said boys don't like flowers) and repeated the word "pretty" and then pointed at her frilly pink dress, and grudgingly Alex had allowed it to be pretty as well. The next time they had visited (their mother was too weak to make him wear anything, so Alex had on a legitimate Turtles-shirt) the annoying brat had followed him again and when she finally reached him, she had handed him a squished daisy she had picked from the yard.
A few years later they had hid under the Knightley house stairs together, Alex wearing a black suit and Emma in a dark dark blue dress and shiny black shoes, which still had some damp earth on them from the graveyard. It was so dark under the stairs, Alex was certain Emma could not see his tears. He supposed she could hear the muffled sobs though and felt the tiny hand squeezing his. When the sobs subsided a little, the hand withdraw and there was a sudden green glow near the floor. Alex bent to examine a neon green, ladybug-shaped device that had a small light inside. Emma's concerned little face glowed an eerie green. Alex looked at her for a while and then dug a pack of cards from the corner. He had occasionally excaped here when their mother was in a bad way and only had strength to see her sons for a few moments. He usually played solitaire but now he set out to teach Emma some card games which he had played with his mother.
It had seemed so natural, the way John and Izzy ended up together. Both were so domestic and wanted no encouragement to finally end up together. When John and Alex's father died when they were in college, John turned to Izzy and they had been together ever since.
It was also natural that Alex and Emma ended up setting up the business together. They were both ambitious, even if in different ways. Alex realized that his ambition had had no direction until Emma had coaxed him into working with her. But he knew he had been her first client.
Alex had stayed a month at the Woodhouses when he left college and it was then he noticed how beautiful Emma was. He noticed it in an objective, disinterested way, glad that she didn't have to go through the awkward, ugly-duckling phase in high school, but was one of the most popular girls at school. He still had to take out his "elder-brother" mocking tone with her, but watching her sit at the breakfast table, fussing over the right wheat-content bread, with her face shining clean, her glossy hair in a hurried braid, her dark striking eyes... Alex had dismissed this as just looking out for his friend. Emma had made him smile and laugh again with her mock sulking when he was right and with her glee when she was right.
Even after the business was up and "booming", Alex had assumed all he felt towards the beautiful young woman was deep friendship. That was until Frank Churchill had appeared.
Alex had not understood at first the deep resentment he felt for Frank. He chided himself for being absurd. When Annie started to prophesize about them, Alex felt like she had made him swallow a stone. He realized that it wasn't the fact that Frank made Emma laugh and smile, but the fact that Frank seemed to make Emma happy. And he envied that of him. He himself was altogether too grumpy and serious. At first he thought he could go on, watching her fall in love with someone else, but after the Boxx opening, he realized he couldn't. Not without breaking his heart over and over it. So Emma's behaviour that night gave him the perfect excuse for escape.
When he had heard about Frank and Jane, he had taken the first flight back. Seeing her in her office, at the verge of tears had made him turn around. He needed a plan.
He could not leave any doubt in Emma's mind about his feelings for her. First of all, maybe they would boost her ego a little bit, and secondly, it was only a matter of time before the next Frank Churchill swooped in.
And now she had made him happier than he remembered ever being. They had talked at first, but then lapsed into a comfortable silence. Their hands rested on the table between them, fingers intertwined. There was so much to say and yet it seemed unnecessary at the moment.
Alex picked up Emma's hand and turned it palm upwards. His thumb travelled first along the side of the forefinger and then over the fleshy mound at the base of her thumb, pressing down on the tender spot on the lower part of her palm. Alex raised his eyes to Emma's. Her face had also grown serious, her eyes even darker. He applied more pressure on the spot. Emma leaned slightly forward, her lips opening as if to say something, but she just let out a breath and closed her mouth, swallowing, a pretty blush spreading from her neck.
Without a word they got up, still gazing at each other. While Alex paid at the counter, Emma got them a cab and gave the driver Alex's address. Practical, he thought, since he lived closer to the restaurant. She would drop him off and...
Alex's thoughts were cut off when Emma threw her legs over his and grabbing him by the neck, drew him into a kiss.
Practical Alex, proper and somber Alex, always controlled Alex. There was nothing proper, somber or controlled about this kiss. They broke apart when the cab stopped at Alex's address. Emma disentagled herself from his arms and climbed out of the cab, giving the driver a shaky smile.
Alex climbed the steps after her and stepped into the dark foyer. Emma was kicking off her ridiculously high heels and suddenly, standing there in the shadows, she looked incredibly young. Alex looked at her for a long while without moving until she stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek on his chest. They fit together perfectly. Alex knew it. It was a perfect fit.
After a long while Alex touched Emma's cheek lightly and she looked up at him. The light from the fanlight above the door was faint, but they were so close that the faintest of lights was enough. And he knew her face in every mood, in every lighting. Only the angle was new.
"I really enjoy this angle of your face," Alex said smiling, lowering his lips almost to Emma's. "Kissing distance."