strained

adjective

showing signs of tiredness or nervous tension.

Emilia rolled over and snuggled herself into Jonathan; the warmth of the bed could not compare to that of Jonathan's body next to her. She'd spent the Saturday night with him, as she usually did, and Sunday morning crept up faster than she had wanted. Though she did not sleep well, and felt unrested, in that moment where she snuggled closer to Jonathan she felt as though nothing in the world could go wrong. Of course, there was an early lunch with Lindsey O'Brien's daughter, Grace, that Emilia had to face.

She had instigated it, however, she was worried that it would not go well. Something dark and cold sat in her gut, and so she shut her blue eyes shut as tight as possible, drowning out the morning for a little while longer. Her mind drifted to other things, such as the night Steve came to Hopper's, helping her out when he car died. She hadn't told Jonathan, for some reason it felt wrong that she hadn't, but it also felt wrong anytime she went to tell him.

Nothing had happened, of course, and Emilia was just seeing Steve in a new light, the light that shined on friends.

Turning so that she was facing Jonathan now, she saw his eyes flutter open. Soft hazel eyes studied her, and a smile crept onto his face, looking oddly mischievous. He mumbled something that sounded like "good morning" and then kissed her, gently at first. Just a small peck, and then he kissed her again and it was deeper, more intense. She kissed back, raising her hand to his shoulder, feeling muscle and bone underneath her palm. Pushing him so that he was on his back, she clambered gracefully on top of him, lips still locked.

She peeled off the shirt of his that she was wearing, and Jonathan's hands slid along the soft skin of her back, up to her shoulder blades, and then around to her breasts. The heat of the moment swept away the rest of the morning, making Emilia's mind go absolutely blank for the time. They were silent, as silent as possible as they could be tangled within one another.

Afterwards Emilia laid on her side and stroked Jonathan's smooth cheek, then ran her fingers through his light brown hair. She didn't want to get up that Sunday morning, and in fact she wanted to lay in bed like this all day. If the world could stop turning for just one day, she would be in bliss. But alas, she eventually dragged herself out of bed, sliding her shirt and pants back on, then glanced over her shoulder at Jonathan who was still in bed. He was propped up on his elbow, studying her as she dressed.

"You're showering?" he asked.

She nodded, "I'd ask you to join me, but..."

He grinned, "But I can already hear mum and Will making breakfast."

She nodded, then stuck out her tongue, "Next time, then."

After she had showered and dressed, leaving her hair damp and cascading naturally over her shoulders, Emilia sauntered into the kitchen. Joyce greeted her, and Will glanced in her direction. She noticed that something was wrong in the way Will looked at her, and she wanted to reach out and hug his tiny frame, to tell him that things were going to be okay. But she didn't believe those words, she knew that things were getting worse inside of his head, just as they were hers. She cast him a knowing glance, it was all she could offer in that moment.

Emilia had only taken a bite of an apple when Jonathan entered the kitchen, showered as well. He glanced at the clock, "We're going to be late."

"Oh, crap!" Emilia realized he was right, "Come on!"

They drove the half hour it took to get to the café, The Electric Umbrella. Outside, it looked fairly normal, an upside down umbrella as their logo with lightning bolts coming from the bottom of the window it was placed upon. Jonathan parked the car near the entrance, and they got out. Inside, the décor was very punk, leather chairs, funky coloured lights, Joy Division played a bit too loudly over the speakers.

A woman rose from the back, and that was when Emilia knew it was Grace Malarky. Emilia weaved through the chairs until she reached her, reaching out her hand awkwardly to shake her hand. "I'm Emilia, this is my boyfriend, Jonathan."

Grace nodded and shook both of their hands, but said nothing more. It was clear that she was uncomfortable. Each of them took their respected seat, Grace held a cup of coffee in her grip, knuckles white.

There was a silence for some time, and then Emilia spoke, "Thank you for meeting with me."

"Yeah..." Grace muttered, clearly something on her mind but she was afraid to speak it.

"I met with your father, last week. I wanted to let you know that I have forgiven him for what happened, I don't... I don't blame him anymore."

"That's cute of you," Grace muttered bitterly. "You know, for the longest time I hated you."

"Hated me?" Emilia's eyes widened in shock. Jonathan shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, you were the survivor of my father's crimes. Your bruised face on the front of the newspaper, right alongside the picture of the burning car, the smashed truck... I looked at those photos every day for a year, I hated to see what had happened. I thought... if you hadn't been on that road, my father would have just hit a tree or something. He would have stumbled home like he always did, and no one would have batted an eye. But you had to be there, in the way... I know this sounds stupid, I know I was wrong but I was younger then.

"After it happened," she continued, "After my dad went to prison, it tore my family apart. I needed someone to blame but I couldn't blame him at the time, I still loved him because he was my dad, of course I loved him. So I blamed you, how everyone sympathized with you and how no one cared how I was doing. No one cared that I suffered depression from losing my father in that way. And then one day I realized that you lost your mother... Truly lost her. All I lost was a connection to my father, I wanted to show him I cared about him, but that day I just... separated from him. I realized to move on, I had to leave him behind."

"People make mistakes..." Emilia said suddenly, "Your father really... really misses you."

"Mistakes mean consequences, that is his."

"Does it change anything that I forgave him?"

"Not really," Grace admitted, her expression strained. "But knowing that he is aware of this... knowing he might sleep better at night, it is a consolation."

"Would you consider... ever forgiving him?"

"That's not a question I can answer, kid," Grace sighed.

Emilia thought about her own father, and how she had finally cut him out of her life. If she never gave him the chance in the future to atone for what he had said and done in his life, she would never be able to forgive him. She looked at Grace Malarky, her short spiked hair and black eyeliner making her look younger than she was. Though Emilia couldn't fathom the thought of forgiving her own father after everything he had done in the last few years, and her whole life before that, she hoped one day Grace Malarky would forgive her father.

"I wanted to blame you for what happened to my family, but I knew that was wrong," Grace told them. "I'm sorry for what my father did to your family, two families were torn apart that day. If it eases your mind, I'll phone him when I feel ready, okay?"

Emilia nodded gratefully, she was unsure why she wanted Grace to forgive Lindsey so badly. But it was part of her now, she wanted it desperately.

"It does, ease my mind, I mean."

"Good, now get on out of here, no minors are actually allowed in this place," Grace chuckled, sending Jonathan and Emilia on their way. When the two teenagers were gone, Grace smiled. She would phone her father as soon as she could, something dark and cold inside of her was beginning to thaw.

All because of some scarred up kid. 

So this story probably won't be as long as the first. There is a lot less of Jonathan in the second season, at least a lot less than I am able to work with. However, I do aim for it to be between 50-55 chapters. That's still plenty! Next chapter I will connect it with the show, which means it going to be party time soon!

I also started another fanfiction, a Kylo Ren one! If anyone is interested.

Question of the Day: How do you deal with grief?