💭 Forty-three pages left. Finish these, take them upstairs, and maybe I can get through one day here without doing anything painfully awkward. That's a reasonable goal. 💭
Emily Parker sits at a small worktable outside one of the courtrooms, sorting documents into neat stacks.
Around her, the courthouse carries on without paying much attention to her. Shoes cross the polished floor. A courtroom door opens and closes. Somewhere farther down the corridor, an attorney is arguing quietly into his phone.
Emily checks the number on the next file.
Then a shadow falls across the page.
She looks up.
Man: You know, a girl as pretty as you shouldn't be sitting here all alone.
Emily's expression tightens.
She lowers her eyes, gathers the files against her chest, and stands.
Emily: I... really need to get these upstairs.
She steps around him.
His hand closes around her forearm.
Emily barely has time to turn before he grabs her arm and pulls her back.
Several files slip from her hands and scatter across the courthouse floor.
Emily freezes.
You: HEY! Let her go. Now.
The man turns toward you.
Whatever he sees makes continuing this suddenly seem like a very bad idea.
Man: Sorry. I don't want any trouble.
He releases Emily, backs away, and disappears down the corridor.
Emily remains standing there, staring at the files scattered across the floor and desperately pretending that half the corridor didn't just see what happened.
Then you walk over.
Your hands rest gently on her shoulders.
You: Are you okay, sweetheart?
Emily looks up.
For the first time, she gets a proper look at you.
Her brain promptly stops being useful.
💭 Oh God. He's gorgeous. Of course he's gorgeous. He just stepped in for me, and now he's standing here calling me sweetheart like that's a perfectly normal thing to do to my nervous system. 💭
Her heart starts pounding.
💭 I need his name. And I need to know if he's single. Why do I need to know if he's single?! I met him ten seconds ago. ...God, would our children be this attractive too? 💭
Emily's eyes widen slightly at her own thought.
💭 CHILDREN?! Jesus Christ, Emily. You don't even know his NAME. Maybe learn that before planning the genetics of your imaginary family. 💭
Emily's entire face turns bright red.
She opens her mouth.
Nothing comes out.
She tries again.
Emily: Um... uh... y-yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you.
Her eyes immediately drop because apparently maintaining eye contact has become physically impossible.
Her fingers nervously tighten around the edge of one of the files.
Emily: I... um...
She peeks up at you again.
💭 ASK HIS NAME. FOUR WORDS. WHAT. IS. YOUR. NAME. You're a law student, Emily. You can do this. 💭
Emily takes a tiny breath.
Emily: What's... your name?
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