Summary: But she couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let somebody have that power over her again.
Disclaimer: I do not own Skins. Probably a good thing as this is not good.
She allowed her fingers to run over the contours of Emily’s body. Naomi was grateful that her girlfriend was a heavy sleeper; it allowed her to indulge in quiet moments like this. She could let her mind run wild and just explore through the power of touch. It gave her a chance to re-familiarise herself with every aspect of Emily without it leading to sex. Not everything in their relationship revolved around fucking; sometimes, it was nice to just take a breather from it all.
This was something she had done time and time again, laying in bed, gently stroking Emily’s porcelain skin, enjoying the peace and quiet. There was a familiarity to the routine already. Naomi had already committed Emily’s curves to memory, knew them by heart, but that didn’t stop her from needing to do this. Especially so as this time, it felt… different. Like a homecoming.
In a way, it was.
Emily muttered something incoherently in her sleep, turned over and bunched the sheets up in her arm. Immediately, Naomi took this as a sign to stop; she didn’t want to wake Emily. After all, she looked at peace with the world, happy, comfortable. Just as she should in whilst sleeping. As far as she was concerned, everything was good. She had the girl of her dreams - as she had told Naomi countless times in the short time they’d officially been together - and things were pretty fucking perfect between them.
Except, they weren’t.
Because of Sophia.
She’d been an accident. Naomi hadn’t been looking to sleep with a girl who wasn’t Emily. Fuck, she still wasn’t even convinced that she was gay. There had just been Emily. It had always been Emily Fitch. Since she was twelve years old, she had loved the slightly more reserved of the two Fitch twins. For years, Naomi had denied it to herself, it was fucking queer, being gay. Her life was unnatural enough as it was, without adding that into the mix. But still. Emily. There was something about her that had told Naomi that gender didn’t matter; she would have fallen in love with her, regardless. As corny as it sounded, she was ‘the one’.
But she couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let somebody have that power over her again. For years, Naomi had been fucking furious with her mum; Gina Campbell had essentially stolen away her childhood. Firstly, there was the living without a dad thing. She could cope with that, really she could, even if she was still secretly harbouring hopes of an emotional reunion. But it was everything else. The mood swings, the communal living, the depression. Not that she could be blamed for her illness, nor that she could help it. It was just one of those things. But still, spending so much time looking after her mum as much or if not, more, than she was looking after Naomi had stripped her of her innocence. Had added to her cynicism. Had meant that she believed that everyone would hurt you sooner or later.
Deep down, Naomi had always believed that Emily would eventually hurt her. Because she was destined to do so. Nobody could stay so fucking perfect all of the fucking time.
At the Love Ball, Naomi had known that it was all downhill from there. That things were always going to go downhill. She was happy - the happiest she had been in such a long while. There had been a lot of inner conflict, a lot of growing to do, to get to that moment. She had to admit to things she had been bottling up for years, just be able to face that moment. The moment she confessed to it, she felt like a weight had finally been lifted off her shoulders. And the lightness she had felt, the happiness that had soared inside her as she kissed Emily in front of everybody she knew, nothing could have blotted it out. But after hitting that kind of emotional high, there was only one direction to go and that was down. Therefore, it was obvious to her that everything was going to be fucked up at some point. How, she couldn’t be sure, but it was going to happen. Simply because she couldn’t trust herself to give herself entirely to Emily, to put herself completely into someone else’s hands. If she did, then it was just leaving herself open for attacks.
Naomi had never imagined, at the time, that it was because of that simple fact that the breakdown would occur. Then again, it was so naïve of her to think that. Because she wasn’t perfect either, she could hurt people as much as they hurt her.
No. She had hurt people as much as she hurt them.
And she would do so again. When Emily found out.
Because the truth always found a way out. However hard you tried to repress things, however desperately you ignored that it happened, it always found a way.
There was no pretending she hadn’t fucked Sophia. There was no pretending she hadn’t enjoyed it at the time either. Sophia had been looking for comfort, for an experiment, to connect to somebody. Naomi had just happened to be there at the time. And being so fucking scared of her own girlfriend, of the future, of everything, she had been more than willing to throw herself into the distraction. Because it made her stop thinking for half a second, about the past, about where things would go. It meant she could just focus on the here and now and lose herself temporarily. Unfortunately, it also meant she completely forgot that there was such a thing as repercussions as well.
However, cheating didn’t prove anything or make anything better. All it did was show that Naomi wasn’t as strong as she thought she was. It certainly didn’t prove that Emily didn’t possess a power over her. Wasn’t the one that she was inexplicably connected to, attracted to like a moth to a flame. Couldn’t make her or break her, however she chose to do so. If anything, it just solidified the fact.
Because Naomi Campbell had to come back to Emily. She just had to. It felt as if she had no choice whatsoever in the matter.
But soon, it’d be over.
And it’d be her fault.