Emma decided that she didn’t like the way she felt on the platform. And it wasn’t a usual thing for her to feel empathy, as well as sorry for herself. But Nigel was sending off waves of excess misery that Emma had no choice but to deal with. There was something about her boyfriend that made him much easier to deal with when he was pouting, or annoyed, even angry. But she didn’t like to see him sad. And this wasn’t just that put on sort of thing that was meant to illicit a response from her. This was genuine emotion and thus, the newly minted sixteen year old wanted to run to catch her train, trailing after her sister like she’d done as a child and Scarlett went around bossing her about. Why couldn’t Scarlett have told her to get on the train just then? No, the blue eyed blonde was swinging her eyes from the train to her boyfriend wondering which would be the better option at the moment for her. Spending every last second with Nigel until the train headed of, or going and finding a spot on the train in which to pout. Both options had their good points. At least with getting on the train, she wouldn’t have to try to find the words to say goodbye. They seemed all stuck against her back teeth like taffy, and refused to be formulated. But then again, Emma knew that she’d miss him and that this was her last chance to see him for a very long time.

Clearly, she was over thinking this. Emma glanced down at their linked hands, and was grateful when Nigel took charge to change the heavy air about them, it came in the very familiar form of his fingers sliding along her jaw and pressing his lips against hers. As far as last kisses went, Emma thought that theirs was probably the most romantic one she’d had. After all, she’d never had a last kiss, she didn’t have much to compare it to, but it was like one of those sorts of things that they had when they were angry at one another. It was an exquisitely intense thing, sort of wild and toe curling. The feeling of her hands brought up against the front of his shirt and twisting the fabric of it around her fingers to hold him closer was lovely. Emma thought that all kisses should be just that way, with the shocks of it sizzling down to the soles of her shoes. But then he was gentle again, and her lips parted in a smile that wasn’t at all like her smirk when she told him that he would write her and that he’d enjoy France. This smile was like the ones she gave him when he was waking her up in the morning with a cup of tea, when she took her guitar out of its case and played him any manner of songs, or decided to wear his shirt around to fetch him one of those fluffy pastries from the little cart they’d ordered up and broke off pieces to feed to him and ended up eating them herself. It wasn’t put on and over the top, instead it was soft and only for him while he rained kisses on her face and neck.

“I’ll miss you,”

He was going to squeeze the life out of her, but Emma didn’t mind it so much, her own arms looping around his shoulders, when he pulled back she wanted to bury her head against that spot on his shoulder just under his chin, where she’d spent her whole summer. It was familiar now, as familiar as the feeling that twisted at her stomach, and the way her lip was caught up between her teeth for a brief, naked, unsure moment. Emma wanted to ask him if he was sure about that, but instead she let go of that look and nodded her head, hoping that the smile she put back on looked more natural than it felt.

“You won’t have time to miss me. You’re going to be so busy.” She reassured him as he pulled away from her, any other words she had to that effect were quickly cut off when he asked her if she needed money for sweets and Emma shook her head, then gave him a narrowing of her eyes when he reminded her that her cat would need food. But they both looked down at their hands, and the younger girl watched as he pulled his own away, keeping her eyes on her now empty digits.

“Go on, honey,”


Her chin snapped up with those words, took in his grin and she nodded again. Of course she should go onto the train now. Her trunk had already been loaded, and her cat seemed to have quieted in his little cage at their feet and she bent to pick it up.

“I want you to get a good seat.”

Clutching the handle of the Siamese’s box, she put on what she hoped was a bright look, pushing her hair back from her face, and she straightened out her jumper with her free hand that had formerly been holding his.

“Goodbye, Nigel.” The words seemed so final, but there was nothing else to say. Instead Emma turned her back and sauntered toward the train, she was very much of the mind that he should hate to see her go…but love to watch her leave, her skirt already far too short and bobbing around mid-thigh. It was sure to scandalize the first professor she ran into once she was off the train, if not earn her detention straight away. Maybe it would have been better to make it all the way up the steps of the train without looking back, and much easier. But that wasn’t what she did, Emma did look back over her shoulder to see if he was still standing on the platform and when she saw he was she pressed her fingers to lips and blew him one last kiss.