If you told Emma Pierce the day before she met Rose Vaeni that she would fall in love with the golden child of the richest and most vile people in the world she’d probably have punched you in the face. 

 

If you told her that little tidbit of information a month into their relationship on the other hand…

 

She’d respond in the exact same way. 

 

Though she certainly didn’t rule out the possibility of love, Emma Pierce was ultimately married to her ideals, and there was no room in her life for a collaborator in the pilfering of the planet and the working class…

 

No matter how hot she was.

 

Given that such an outlook wasn’t exactly uncommon in the Durham University GSA, and said collaborator wasn’t already known to the student body since she wasn’t technically a student yet at the time, it is perhaps not surprising that she played a little fast and loose with the truth.

 

“Rose, Rose Reynolds” a conspicuously well dressed stranger opened.

 

Emma: “Emma, Emma Pierce?”

 

‘Ms. Reynolds’ outstretched her palm for a handshake, prompting an awkward expression from Emma even as she offered hers in return. She then curtsied once they made contact, and now Emma was truly confused.

 

Emma: “Are you a bond villain by any chance?”

 

Reynolds: “Of course not! I’m very heroic…

 

An abrupt pause filled the air as a flash of panic spread across Rose’s face, but as soon as it came it was gone.

 

…but only in very normal ways. Like today for example, I took the bus here because I’m broke and this poor old lady needed a seat so I gave her mine.”

 

Emma: "…Good for you?"

 

Reynolds: “What about you, dangled any damsels from any cliffsides recently?”

 

Emma scoffed.

 

Emma: “Well of course dearie, how else is a crafty little lesbian supposed to get her fix? I take it that an unremarkable hero such as yourself prefers to play the damsel, no?

 

In an instant Rose’s cheeks went as red as her lips, and she went from struggling to find the right words to struggling to say anything at all.

 

Reynolds: "I would like that, yeah… May I kiss yo-"

 

Emma kissed Rose with a sultry passion the latter could never even have dreamed of before that moment.

 

Emma: "First rule of being my hapless captive, I’m the one who kisses."

 

—----------------------------------------------------—----------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Rose and Emma were snuggling in bed together on a crisp autumn afternoon, bathing in the sweetness of the moment and their budding love for one another when Emma finally decided to say the big word. Up to that moment everything felt perfect, preordained even, as if the universe itself had built this moment for them to announce their affections. Rose had been quiet and shy since they’d known each other, but she seemed to finally be breaking out of her shell, and Emma, well Emma knew that none of her previous relationships had been quite as special as this, quite as special as Rose. Without a moment’s hesitation, she made her pledge, and Rose responded by turning away from her and bursting into tears.

 

Emma: “Rose? Rose I’m sorry, did I, I didn’t mean to-”

 

Rose turned back towards Emma and hugged her as tightly as her weakened state would allow her.

 

Rose: “I love you too, so so much.”

 

Emma hugged Rose back and started crying a little bit herself.

 

Emma: “So what’s wrong Muffin? How can I help?”

 

Rose: “I don’t deserve your love, or anyones. I’m sorry.”

 

Emma: “Yes you do! You're amazing Rose, you make me so happy and I would give you the world if I could! Even if you don’t see yourself Rose, I see you, and I love you.”

 

The lovers embraced each other even tighter, and Emma kissed Rose’s cheek to show her affection. They stayed rolled up in that bed for hours, until Rose had finally not only calmed down, but had also readied herself as much as she could to potentially lose Emma forever.

 

Rose: “I’m not the person I pretend to be.”

 

Emma: “How so?”

 

Rose: “You're so wonderful and good and I’m just… terrible.”

 

Emma: “Rose, there hasn’t been one minute we’ve been together that I’ve thought you did anything terrible, and I can assure you I’m not a saint.”

 

Rose: “Yes you are.”

 

Emma: “Nope! I try to do good things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t slip up regularly. Hell, the GSA I run I started at first mostly for volunteer credit, and even now if I’m being honest with myself there are days where I do the work more for validation than benevolence. We’re all complicated, and I bet whatever is eating you up inside isn’t as bad as you’ve built it up to be.”

 

Rose: “I lied about my name.”

 

Emma: “You're not Rose?”

 

Rose: “About my last name. The truth is I’m an ​​avaricious, histrionic, narcissist who hasn’t done one thing in her life to benefit anyone other than herself, and spent nearly all of it perfectly content being that. I told you I was a lifelong activist but I didn’t do a thing for any cause until I wanted to impress you. I told you I grew up poor and even still had never known riches, but that was a lie. From the moment I saw you I knew I wanted to be with you, and I said whatever I needed to trick you into loving me.”

 

Emma pulled away.

 

Rose: “My real name is Rose Cassandra Vaeni.”

 

Emma: “Vaeni? As in-”

 

Rose: “Yeah.”

 

Emma: “This isn’t funny Rose.”

 

Rose: “Look my name up if you don’t believe me, and try not to drown in the ocean of puff pieces my parents bought.”

 

Silence descended over the bedroom for what felt like an eternity, only lifting when Emma mustered the courage to say the only word on her mind.

 

Emma: “Why?”

 

Rose: “Because I knew from the start you wouldn’t want to be with me, or even be near me, if you knew who I was.”

 

Emma: “So what then? You thought you could build a life with me based on lies? Or have I always been just an excursion for you?”

 

 

Rose: “In the beginning? I had just been kicked out of my home for being an “abomination” as my mother put it, and I needed someone to take me in and keep me sane. You were just so fiery and beautiful and, and I said what you wanted to hear. Over time I grew to truly love you, and the lie started to rip me apart.”

 

A part of Emma wanted to sympathize with Rose’s plight, but the rest of her quickly crushed that hope. 

 

Emma: “So you used me?”

 

Rose: “Yes. Love I’m so sorry I-”

 

Emma: “Why should I trust you now?”

 

Rose took a moment to compose herself, seemingly trying to calculate her answer before giving up as her head and eyes sunk.

 

Rose: “I was raised to be a parasite, to lie, cheat and steal from everyone I met because they don’t matter, only the tiny group of people I personally call family matter, and every shred of decency shown to those outside the bubble is just a piece of loot not returned to the nest. For virtually my whole life I took that philosophy as my gospel, even after the people who taught it to me threw me out I clung to it. It wasn’t until you came into my life, until my bubble grew to include you, and I saw just how committed you were and are to helping everyone that it finally burst. You inspired me to try, and though my parents' evil morality is still etched deep into part of my soul, there is another part which wants to be good like you. If you want to know whether I love you, the answer is yes, a thousand times yes, but that doesn’t mean you should trust me, at least not the woman I am today. I will try to be better, but that effort would be doomed if I wasn’t honest with you and myself that every bone in my body has been screaming at me to turn back with every word, every instinct I ignore to somehow cling to the illusion that made you stay.”

 

Unfortunately for Rose, her monologue only succeeded in making Emma even more enraged, and it showed in her tone.

 

Emma: “Are you trying to win sympathy points for being evil!?”

 

Rose: “I don’t think so, but it does sound like something my subconscious might try. I’ve never really done this before, apologizing because I actually mean it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I was doing it wrong.”

 

Emma: “I can’t do this, I can’t keep talking to you while you continue to put on this regretful sociopath act.”

 

Rose: “I’m sorry.”

 

Emma: “Sure you are.”

 

.

.

.

 

Emma: “I suppose I only have one final question.”

 

Rose: “Yes?”

 

Emma: “If I kick you out of my home where will you go?”

 

Rose: “I don’t know.”

 

Emma: “Then I guess you can stay here for a little bit longer; not even the worst people deserve homelessness.”

 

Rose: “Thank you.”

 

Emma: “I'll get you a blanket and pillow from under my bed and you can get yourself comfortable on the carpet in the living room, since you're never allowed to spiritually pollute my room again.”

 

Rose: “I understand.”

 

Emma: “Oh, and one more thing.”

 

Rose: “Yes?”

 

Emma: “What I said earlier? It no longer applies.”

 

Rose: “I know.”

 

—----------------------------------------------------—----------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

In truth it had been hard for a long time for Emma to not be enamored with Rose when she was sleeping… or when she was awake for that matter, but this felt ridiculous. 

 

Since their fight, Emma had devoted practically every waking minute to researching her apparently evil soulmate/ex, devouring interviews, media reports, and even conspiracy blogs about the family in a desperate attempt to understand. Though it was incredibly hard/impossible to decipher truth from fiction with such resources, that didn’t stop her from getting the vague sense that the family's piles of money were hiding a labyrinth of shade. Arms dealing, mafia connections, a few puppet governments in the world’s periphery, and of course the oil wealth of some petrostates centralized into a few dozen hands. She wanted to be disgusted by it all, to capture the horror she had felt when Rose first revealed herself, and finally kick the self-confessed monster out of her life forever. Instead, the more she learned about Rose, the more excited she was by her. 

 

At first Emma didn’t know what to make of it all, her capacity for understanding hindered by her absolute refusal to ask questions of the invaluable witness taking an evening nap five feet away on her hardwood floor, but eventually her curiosity got the better of her bitterness. Walking slowly so as not to disturb her before she had to, Emma got her own blanket and pillow from her warm, comfy bed, snuck across the apartment, and lay down next to the beautiful, slumbering, vile girl. It was only fair, Emma rationalized, that if she was going to ask her all about her old life she would show her guest gentle respect, whatever anger she still harbored about her actions and lies. Seven and a half minutes later, seven and a half minutes of anticipation, attraction, doubt, fear, and longing; seven and a half minutes later Emma finally got what she was waiting for. 

 

Rose opened her eyes, leisurely at first, and then with a snap.

 

Emma: "Hi."

 

Rose: "Hiiii?"

 

Emma: "Tell me everything."

 

…

 

And so she did.

 

For hours Rose and Emma went over the reports and rants alike which Emma had found in her weeks of searching. A shadow government in the Kingdom of Wezhack, an arms smuggling ring through Baselstan, gold, diamonds, emeralds and quartz, some boring rocks like oil and phosphate, and a bunch more enigmatic metals the latter had never even heard of. To protect this empire from its rivals and the people alike, the family had something of its own intelligence agency, as well as a number of “understandings” with official ones around the world, to take whatever legal or illegal means necessary to guard the nest. Rose herself had witnessed a great many of these operations, as her parents had seen it necessary to “toughen her up” and prepare her mentally to oversee the empire in their eventual passing. One memory in particular stood out to Rose of that period, in an underground bunker she never learned where, she was handed a knife by her chaperone and instructed to “liquidate” a man she was assured was in some way a threat to the family. Up until then she had just been an observer, but then, then…

 

She came home that day to a hero's welcome, cake and presents and her parents talking endlessly of how proud they were, how much they loved her. 

 

The time following was a haze, it might have been hours, or days, or weeks, or more, but it all seemed to congeal together as she accepted the truth of who she was, who she was destined to be.

 

She went into that time feeling ashamed; she left with a newfound pride. She stood above the world, having embraced a truth the rest of humanity was too scared, too weak, to even contemplate. She didn’t have to let herself feel the guilt anymore, or any other feeling she didn’t fancy for that matter, for she was the true owner of all bodies she chose to command.

 

Now, lying here next to her soulmate, she wanted to be fully honest, to tell her everything to make up for lying before, but somehow she found her voice wouldn’t let her tell that particular story.

 

Unbeknownst to Rose, Emma was having a very different experience listening to her cavalcade of confessions then she was making them. No, to Emma, all this conniving and defiling, this great dance with the devil on top of the world, it felt like a forbidden adventure. Rose, the wounded bird she had gotten to know so intimately, the temptress she was pretending she didn’t still love, the best and worst person she had ever met. She tried to hate her, she begged her body to allow her to just despise her, but the more she resisted the stronger it called for her touch. She couldn’t put her finger on why at the time, but there was just something so tantalizing about Rose’s particular flavor of villainy, her complete disregard for the world but for those rare individuals special enough to cherish. A manipulative, suave, hot vixen who loved her more than anything, who she knew instantly would kill for her in a heartbeat, whether she had any good reason or not. A Queen who sat joyously on a throne of skulls, and she her loyal consort, every taken soul a reminder of just how special Emma really was.

 

It was wrong, it was horrid, it was paradise, it was perfect. 

 

It was fantasy, and Emma couldn’t let herself get lost in it.

 

Emma: "These horrible things, you felt proud of them, no remorse at all?"

 

Rose: "By the time I met you? No, the time before I shredded my soul was by then a faint memory. There was a good person in there, deep, deep down once, but I killed her."

 

Emma:" If what you're saying is true, why turn away from that life now?"

 

Rose: "Because I love you. I love your laugh, your dark but sensitive humor, the way you used to cradle my head in your arms at night, your unreserved audacity when the world tries to push you where you don’t want to be pushed, the fire in your heart, the adorable purring that is your snore, the sweet curls of your auburn hair and the way your eyes gaze deep into mine that makes me feel like we’re the only girls in the world. Most of all though I love your kindness, your passion, your love. I see how much you care about me and about everyone and it's inspiring. I know I’m not a good person, but I was once. I wanna go back to that, I know I can go back to that, because I know in your eyes anything is possible."

 

 

2 weeks of waiting, of longing, of burying her love in a blanket of hate and telling herself that was the right thing to do.

 

Emma couldn’t wait one second more, and as Rose finally got the courage to look up into her deep, brown eyes, Emma went in for the kiss they’d both been waiting for.