You’re not sure, exactly…

You’re not quite sure what happens next. You and Emma are only a few feet apart, but it might as well be miles.

Then she reaches out her hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ Emma mutters, swallowing hard. ‘I didn’t – I mean, I couldn’t really believe you’d cheated on me. I know you’re not like that. I’m sorry.’

You shush her, pulling her arm and folding her into a hug. ‘How the hell were you supposed to know? You’re right, if it’d been the other way around, I would’ve been just as freaked out.’

‘James…’ Emma pulls away somewhat timidly. ‘Did you… did you really mean it? What you said about… digging in?’

You have to smile. ‘What, sinking a trench to fixate on you for eighteen months? And not giving a rat’s ass about any other girl?’

Emma nods without looking at you. ‘Yeah, that.’

You sigh, stroking a hand through her hair. ‘For God’s sake. How many times do I have to say it? You’re Emma fucking Watson, man.’ Emma lets out a little snort, but leans back into your chest, looking reluctantly pleased. ‘You’re beautiful, and talented, and way funnier than you think, and sexy as all hell. You know, I used to imagine what it’d be like to date someone like you. And…’ You laugh into her hair. ‘Well. I have no fucking idea how this is even possible, but it’s… it’s better.’

A prick of hot moisture suddenly appears on your chest – Emma’s tears, hopefully her last – and you smile to yourself, squeezing her even tighter. ‘Trust me, Emma. I don’t want to be with anyone except you.’