“You should organize the library, Emma,” James said out of the blue. Emma looked up at him, surprised.

“What?” she asked as she set her pencil down on the library table. Andrew looked up from his computer for a second before turning back to his research.

“I think you should work on the library. It took you so long to find the information we needed last time for the hunt, and I think that if there was some kind of system for the books here it would be easier for you to find stuff.” It took her a moment to respond; she wasn't sure whether to be insulted that he was mentioning her research speed or thankful for the suggestion.

“James, you know I can’t do that. I have other things I need to be doing.” Emma gestured to her sketchbook, which was propped up on her knees at the moment. He scoffed a little and took a long drink of his beer. After setting the bottle back on the table, he looked over at his best friend.
“Come on, Andy. What do you think?” Andrew looked up from his work again and gave James a bored look.

“Emma can do what she wants. Yeah, she probably should make a system, but she doesn’t have to.” Emma pointed at Andrew as he turned back to the research for the hunt.

“See? Andrew knows what he’s talking about. Besides, you know that all of this is important.” Tapping the sketchbook, she picked up her pencil again with her free hand. James started to say something but she turned him out, focusing once again on the half-finished art in front of her.

She glanced up at James and watched as he flipped through the pages in an old book. Her hand swooped over the page, leaving a dark line to match his jaw. Soon enough the sketch was finished and she slid her pencil behind her ear so it was out of the way.

Emma bit her lip and analyzed her work. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than her previous ones. Peeking up at James, she compared her sketch with the real thing. James looked up as she stared, causing her to blush. He smirked.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, holding back a laugh as the blood rushed to your cheeks. He had caught her, and God knows he’d be holding it against her.
“I need to make sure my sketch matches the real thing,” she managed to choke out. He raised an eyebrow at her response, but simply shook his head and went back to the research in front of him.

The silence was worse than him making more comments. Emma got up from her seat and flipped the cover over the sketchbook. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Andrew nodded at her with a smile, but James didn’t even glance up. Her heart sank a little why, she didn’t know. Giving Andrew a weak smile in return, she walked to her bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

In the safety of her room she relaxed, allowing herself to breathe out the air she had been holding in ever since James had caught her staring. James leaned against the door and sighed.

“I need new things to sketch,” she mumbled when the thought of James' face when he caught her flitted through her mind. Finally hoisting herself up from that position and flopping down on her bed, she let the sketchbook drop to the floor beside her.

Emma's eyes drifted closed and she allowed her mind to wander between the thoughts crowding her brain. After a while she got up and grabbed her guitar from its case. She positioned it in her lap and began to strum, and soon enough she was playing through all the songs she knew.

Music came naturally for her. It was cathartic. Every stress of the hunting life seemed to melt away whenever she played, and even though James didn’t understand it, it was something she needed to do.

Emma sang along with the chords she played and let a smile slip onto her face and her heart swelled the happiness music brought her.

“I gotta ask Emma a question. I’ll be back, Andy.” James slid his chair back from the table and stood, feeling the muscles that had been left unused stretch out for the first time in hours.

Groaning, he left the library as Andrew mumbled something about his book. From somewhere down the hall music was playing and he followed the sound of it to Emma’s room.

What the hell? It wasn’t the music on her iPod, he could tell. He’d definitely heard that music enough to last him three lifetimes. It was different. Softer. The singer sounded familiar, so he leaned up against the wall outside her door to listen.

They strummed a guitar leisurely and the chords fell into place as if they had been practiced over and over till they were perfect. They probably were. He smiled softly as the song went on.

James was just getting into it when the music stopped and rustling came from inside her room. Inwardly, he debated over whether he should knock or stay awhile outside.

Eventually he made a decision that he might regret, but it would be worth it in the end. He pressed his ear against the door and hoped that she wouldn’t open it while he was listening.

“C, no. A minor…” he heard Emma mumble. Another chord was strummed out on the guitar and he finally realized that the singer wasn’t a track on her iPod or playing on her laptop.

“Emma sings,” he murmured. James knew she had a guitar, she had always told him it was her favorite possession, but he didn’t realize that she could sing too. She never mentioned it.

A few months back, when she had first moved into her aunt and uncle's home, Andrew had seen the guitar and asked about it.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she had said. “I mean, I play, but what good is playing if there’s nobody to sing?” Emma had laughed it off like a true expert, and they had fallen for it. Who knew that girl was hiding a voice like that? After all, they just assumed she only liked to play the guitar.

James let out a small laugh as he remembered a shouting match she and Andrew had gotten in over something stupid a day or two ago. Emma had shouted louder than him, which was saying something. He guessed she had herself a good set of lungs.

A good set of lungs and the voice of an angel. “Holy crap.” he pulled away from the door to stand up straight, and he stared at it as she played on.

James was still in shock from his discovery when he heard her set down the guitar and pad across the room. Quickly, he turned and started walking back to the library.

“James?” Emma asked from her now open doorway. He turned and smiled at her.
“Oh, hey, Emma.” She gave him a weird look and then shook her head.

“Did you need something?” James shook his head in response and watched the creases on her forehead grow even deeper as confusion set it. “Oh, okay.”

“Yeah I was just coming back from my room,” he told her. He inwardly winced at the lie.

“Oh… Um, well you wouldn’t happen to know that one Beatles song that talks about making a sad song better or something?”

“Yeah it’s called Hey Jude.” Emma nodded and stepped back into her room. Once her door was shut again he sighed in relief. He walked back to the library and sat down right away, earning another weird look from Andrew.

“Did you get your answer?” he asked, looking up at him from his book.

“What?”

“Your answer, James. You went to ask Emma a question? Or do you not remember? Are you really getting that old?” A little smirk was on his face and he glared at him from across the table.

“Yeah, I got my answer.” he turned back to the laptop in front of him, ignoring his comments and letting his thoughts drift back to Emma’s singing.

It wasn’t until a half hour later when he was neck-deep in research about ancient rituals that he remembered that his room was in the opposite direction of Emma’s.

Emma opened her eyes slowly to the sound of her phone ringing. She must’ve fallen asleep, she thought. Reaching over to the nightstand beside her bed, she grabbed her cell and accepted the call.

“Hello?” she asked groggily, still half-asleep.

“Emma! Hey!” the voice on the other end exclaimed. Mason, her brain told her. She sat up slowly, pushing herself up on the mattress until she was propped up against the headboard.

She rubbed the grit from her eyes as Mason talked. “I know it’s early, but I was thinking I would stop by later today and show you guys a new thing I figured you guys could use at the bunker. It would make research ten times more efficient, and that would sure save you and Andrew from James' complaining, right?” he laughed and she smiled briefly before yawning.

“Sounds good. Listen, Mason, speaking of James.”

“What, is he okay?” he asked. She could tell he was really concerned with his friend and she sighed.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s fine. It’s just… he’s been acting weird. Has he said anything to you?” Mason stayed silent for a minute before responding.

“No, he hasn’t. What do you mean he’s acting weird? I mean, he is James.” Emma laughed at this.

“Yeah, I know. He’s just being weird, I don’t know. He gets really quiet around me and he offers to help me with things around the bunker and stuff. Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“That is a little weird,” Mason agreed.

“Well, if he says anything to me, I’ll let you know, okay? I’ve gotta run, this boy’s gotta get himself some coffee so I’m awake for the drive. Tell Andrew I’ll be there around three, will you?”

“Yeah, I will. Bye Mason.” Emma hung up and tossed her phone on the mattress next to her. Sighing, she climbed out of bed and slowly got dressed, then grabbed her phone again and went into the library.

When she walked in, the boys were standing by a bookshelf and Andrew was showing James something in a book. James turned slightly and nudged Andrew when she walked in. Emma ran a hand through her hair and yawned, lifting her hand in a wave when Andrew spotted her as well.

She plopped down in a seat and pulled Andrew’s laptop over to her.

“Hey boys. Mason's coming by later today, alright?” Andrew nodded and then turned back to his book to continue explaining to James whatever he had been talking about before she walked in. James, however, was too busy staring at her to pay any attention to what his best friend was saying.

Emma glanced over at him to see him giving her a weird look. Uncomfortable, she shifted in her seat and tried not to keep looking over at him. Andrew’s laptop finished booting up and she typed in the password she knew was his go-to.

Andrew snapped his fingers to get his best friend’s attention.

“James! This is important!”

“Huh? Important. Yeah.” Emma busied herself with checking her email and listened while Andrew talked. He went on about information on Pagan mythology, occasionally stopping his small lecture to direct James' focus back towards him.

Emma could feel the boy’s gaze on her and she ducked her head, blushing a little. Soon enough, Andrew left to go take care of something in another part of the bunker. James took a seat next to her and watched as she scrolled through an art supply catalog online. After a while, he finally spoke.

“What’s all that?” He pointed at the screen. Emma shrugged it off, figuring he wouldn’t care. It’s not about hunting, she told herself. He won’t understand.

When Mason arrived later that day, Emma had already started avoiding me. She did this everyday. She'd come up with reasons to not go on food runs, or not do research, or not help him like she normally did.

Mason, however, was full of energy and it was nice to have his back at the bunker. Soon enough he was chattering away, his eyes lit up with excitement as he told them about his new idea for the bunker library. He  didn’t understand half of what he was saying, but Andrew clearly did.

Eventually he snuck off to find Emma and tell him that Mason was here since she had been hiding somewhere in the bunker when the blond had arrived. He saw one of the storage rooms as he passed by it. The door was slightly open, and she was laid out on her stomach with a sketchbook in front of her.

Her tongue was sticking out slightly as she moved her pencil across the paper. James stood and watched her for a while and saw as the picture formed on the page.

If you asked him, he probably wouldn’t be able to tell her how long she watched her sketch. It was mesmerizing to see how simple lines became part of the scene she was creating.

Emma pulled her pencil away and held herself up on her elbows to look at her work. She would balance on her other arm as she reached out to add in small details or change something.

When she was finally satisfied, she set her pencil down off to the side and grinned at it. She was about to close the book but then dropped it, instead grabbing her pencil once again and scribbling in the corner of the page.

James looked closer when she moved her hand away and saw that she had signed it and put the date in tiny letters. Emma stood up slowly, stretching out her limbs leisurely. A thin strip of skin showed for a brief moment when her shirt rode up, and he looked away.

Shaking his head, he treaded slightly backwards down the hallway and then walked back to the room. He made sure his footsteps were loud enough for her to hear.

“Emma?” She poked her head out of the storage room, smiling.

“Is Mason here?” she asked, eyes shining brightly. He nodded and she bolted down the hallway towards the library. Laughing, he waited till she had rounded the corner before peeking into the room she had just left.

The sketchbook was gone; she had hidden it somewhere. From down the hall James heard her laugh, and a smile came unbidden to his lips. Confused, he pressed them together to try and stop it.

“I’m not falling for her,” he said aloud, making a promise to himself that he could tell was made to be broken. Shutting the door behind him, James found himself taking one last look around the storage room for a sketchbook he knew wasn’t there.

Andrew and James went to a bar later that night, leaving Emma and Mason alone in the bunker. The two of them had been lounging on the couch, watching movies and throwing popcorn at each other until she laughed so hard her stomachs hurt.

She watched movie after movie until she was drowsy. A pile of pillows and blankets had been dumped onto the floor; she and Mason crawled into it as her eyes drooped down, heavy with sleep.

“Hey Mason?” she asked quietly. He hummed in acknowledgement and once she knew he was listening, she continued.

“Do you think James is acting weird?” It was quiet for a minute before he answered.

“Yeah, he is. He keeps leaving to go ask you stuff or to go get you for something.” Emma rolled over onto her stomach to stare at him. Mason was looking up at her from his position on the floor and she gave him a confused look.

“He hasn’t asked me anything in weeks. Normally if he wants to tell me something or wants me to come do something, he’ll text me. I just thought he was awfully quiet whenever I’m in the room.” he shrugged and she sighed, flopping back onto her back.

Emma hummed a little tune to herself, a nighttime habit she really needed to break as she drifted off to sleep. Vaguely she heard the bunker door open and close and footsteps nearing the room. In the back of her mind she knew it was only the two friends and she relaxed at the thought that they were safe and sound.

James scooped Emma up in his arms, and Andrew carried boxes in his hands. They took them to their respective bedrooms and pulled the blankets around them. Sleepily, Emma blinked open her eyes to look up at James.

He was moving around the room, pulling blankets over her curled up frame and switching off the lamps. As he walked towards the door she called him back.

“James?” Emma said, her voice quiet. He stopped and turned, a small smile brightening his features in the darkness.

“I thought you were asleep.” she shook her head tiredly. “You need something?”

Emma started to shake her head but then nodded. “What do you need?” James came back over to her bedside and she looked up at him with a sheepish smile.

“I can’t sleep alone. Bad childhood memories and stuff…” After a moment James nodded. Emma swore she could see a faint blush over his cheeks even though it was dark in the room. He went around to the other side of her bed and laid down.

“James?” she asked again.

“What?”

“Take your shoes off or I’m gonna jump on your bed in mine after I come back from my next trip somewhere muddy,” she murmured with a small smile playing on her lips. He grunted and sat up, unlacing his boots and pulling them off of his feet.

His boots fell to the floor with a thud and she felt the bed dip beneath her when he laid back down. The blanket shifted around her as he crawled under it to escape the cold air. Emma closed her eyes once he had stopped moving around.

From the other side of the bed, she heard James' breathing even out as he fell asleep and she smiled, letting her drowsiness wash over her in waves.

When he woke up the next morning, the bed was cold beside him. He laid with yis eyes closed and listened to the distinct sound of a pencil on paper, and ever so slowly he shifted so he could open his eyes and watch Emma as she worked. She was curled up in a chair, a big soft one she refused to live without with her sketchbook in her lap.

Like always, her tongue slipped through her lips as she moved her pencil with a skill he had grown to love. She stopped sketching and looked over what she had done so far. James watched as her eyes flitted across the drawing.

Emma looked up at the wall her door hung from. She chewed on her lip and inspected the desk set against the cinder blocks, then glanced up at the poster she had taped to them. He followed her gaze.

Quickly, she began to draw again, glancing up every now and again to reference the desk and the poster. Emma smiled to herself when she looked at what she had done so far, and James couldn’t help but smile at himself.

She looked… free. She looked happy and at ease. He pulled himself from his thoughts just as she looked over at him, so he shut his eyes as quickly as he could. Emma stared for a moment before climbing back into the bed next to him and laying down.

“James?” she breathed out. He slowly opened an eye and was about to pretend he was just waking up when he saw the expression on her face. Emma was watching him with contempt at having caught him, but there was something glinting in her eyes: fear, anxiety, insecurity that stopped him.

“Were you… watching me?” Carefully, he nodded a yes. She sighed and looked down at the sheets, picking at a loose thread on the edge of the pillowcase. “How long were you watching?”

“Long enough to see it makes you happy,” he murmured. She looked shocked.

“I’ve known that for a while, actually. I’ve seen you draw before, and I’ve heard you sing, too.”

Her eyes grew wide and she wrapped the thread around her index finger tightly, cutting off the circulation.

He gently unwrapped it, tucking her finger back into the fist she was making.

“Y-you’ve heard me sing?” Her voice was shaking slightly, and he nodded. James wrapped his hand around hers and it relaxed.

“I did, yeah. Your voice is beautiful, Emma. You’re beautiful. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think so.” Emma blushed and he laughed slightly. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice soft.

Curious, he got up and grabbed her iPod. She protested, but he held up a finger for her to wait.

After a moment he plugged it into her speakers and soft guitar chords played through them. Her eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“This is one of my songs,” she said, her voice quiet. James nodded and went back to the bed, holding out his hand for her.

“Dance with me.” Emma laughed slightly.

“You don’t dance, James. Everybody knows that. It’s too much of a chick-flick moment, remember?” he shrugged in response, somewhat exasperated that she hadn’t said yes right away. She looked more surprised than unwilling, however, so he asked again.

“Do you want to dance or not?” Finally, she reached up and took his hand, standing. He pulled her close to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

With his hands on her hips, he began to sway with the music, and she moved with him. They moved to the music and halfway through the song she began to sing softly. He closed his eyes and let her soft voice carry over the both of them.

“I’d do anything for you, Emma. And if “anything” means letting you draw and play guitar instead of research then I’ll stop asking about it, okay? You won’t have to research or live in the bunker or anything, if that’s what you want. We’ll have a happy life together. I know that’s crazy but it’s true. We can get out of this life, we’ll get a house in a nice, safe neighborhood. You can sketch and paint and sing and whatever the hell you want to do, as long as you’re happy,” he murmured after the song had ended.

Emma rested her head against his chest and slipped her arms from his neck to around him. She stayed quiet for a while before looking up at him.

“You want to spend your life with me?” he winced internally as he realized his mistake. James hadn’t meant for her to find out the way he felt about her; he didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship they already had. But something in his gut was telling him to take a risk this time.

“Yeah. I do.” Emma sighed softly and his stomach clenched in anxiety. Sighing wasn’t normally a good sign in her case. “James, I don’t like research.” he started to tell her she wouldn’t have to anymore, but she interrupted him.

“But I’ll do it to help you, if that’s what you want. No matter what I’m doing, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.” She took him by surprise, stretching up to press her lips to his. James was still reeling from her words, but her action sent him to the clouds.

Pulling her closer to him, he kissed back. After a moment she pulled away and met his eyes. “I love you, James.”

“I love you too.” She nodded and leaned back against him, and sang another song to him. He lost himself in her voice and it was the best thing he'd ever done.