Home For Fall // Emison and PLL

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Alison woke up to the smell of something cooking. She couldn't place what it was. It was almost sweet.

She got out of bed and stretched, her bones aching from the way she had fallen asleep all curled up in Emily's neck. She was surprised the brunette didn't wake her when she woke.

Alison pulled a blanket around her shoulders and traveled out to the kitchen where Emily was standing at the stove in her white t-shirt and black boxers. The one thing that stood out was the deep blue mermaid and ocean etched into her skin.

Alison found it intriguing. Why would she get that when she was in the desert fighting a war? Emily had mentioned that she wrote Alison letters every single day. It only made Alison want to read them more.

It was her second day having Emily back and it felt natural. It felt as though she had never left.

But something was off about Emily. She was different. Alison could tell. She knew more than she was letting on. Maybe one day she'd finally fess up to what really happened in the desert. But until then, she had nothing. She just simply had to wait.

She walked behind Emily and attempted to slip her arms around Emily's waist.

Emily spun around with a knife in her hand and faced Alison, a look of extreme anger crossing her face.

"Em!" Alison jumped.

Emily dropped her shoulders, her breathing labored. She tried her best to ignore what happened, but her body was shaking hard.

"Em, put the knife down," Alison said calmly as she snuck forward and grabbed the knife's handle from Emily's sweaty palm.

"I'm s-sorry. I thought," Emily began but she stopped.

"Thought what?" Alison asked cautiously.

The food on the stove began to sizzle which caused Emily's attention to flounder. She turned back to the food, occasionally flipping pancakes with the spatula on the kitchen counter.

Alison put the knife back in the knife drawer and pulled Emily away from the pancakes after she had transferred them all over to a plate.

"Alison, please," Emily said.

Alison wouldn't listen to it any longer. "You just tried to stab me. What is wrong? Tell me Emily, or so help me God."

Emily looked as if somebody has slapped her. She rubbed her tattooed arm precariously and tried her best to distance herself from Alison.

"I'm not used to this," Emily said.

"Used to what?" Alison asked.

"This, Alison. Waking up in a real bed, making fresh pancakes in the morning, walking around freely, being in air conditioned buildings, showing affection to the girl I love," Emily said.

At the last word, Alison stiffened. She wanted nothing more than for Emily to take her to the bedroom and do whatever she wanted with her. She wanted her to prove just how much she really loved her. It was so hard not being able to touch her.

Emily was still so distant. It was almost impossible to feel as if the old Emily was around anymore.

"We'll take things slow, okay? I refuse to lose you again," Alison said.