It was a quiet Saturday evening when Emily decided to visit Liam.
After the intense case they had just solved, and with tensions still running high at work, she felt the need for something familiar, something comforting—and that, without a doubt, was Liam. She texted him a simple, "You home?" and within seconds, his reply came: "Always. Come over."
Fifteen minutes later, Emily was standing at Liam's front door, balancing a bag of snacks in one hand and a six-pack of soda in the other. She knocked twice before letting herself in, something Liam had told her to do countless times. His house was modest, cozy—just like him. Warm lighting, a comfy couch that looked like it had seen one too many late-night stakeouts, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of coffee and old pizza.
"Emily!" Liam called from the living room, his voice carrying that familiar warmth. He appeared around the corner, wearing a gray t-shirt and a pair of jeans, looking far more relaxed than he ever did at work.
"Hope you don't mind me crashing," she said, holding up the bag of snacks.
He grinned, taking it from her. "Crash all you want. You're practically family at this point."
Emily kicked off her shoes and followed him into the living room. The coffee table was already cluttered with files, a few mugs, and a stack of movies Liam had half-heartedly pulled out for the night.
"Movies and snacks? You're spoiling me, detective," Emily teased, plopping down on the couch.
"Nothing but the best for my favorite partner in crime," he shot back, tossing a soda to her.
They settled in easily, the way they always did. The first movie played in the background, but neither of them was really paying attention. Instead, they spent most of the time joking and teasing each other like old friends.
"So," Liam said, popping a handful of popcorn into his mouth, "do you think if you weren't a cop, you'd have made a decent criminal?"
Emily snorted. "Please. I'd be the worst criminal ever. I'd leave a trail of evidence just to see if you could catch me."
"Oh, I'd catch you," Liam said, winking. "No doubt."
Emily laughed, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it easily and retaliated, launching it back at her head. It became an all-out pillow war, both of them laughing uncontrollably, the room filled with the kind of lightheartedness they hadn't had in a long time.
Finally, breathless, Emily flopped back onto the couch. Liam collapsed beside her, both of them grinning like idiots.
"This is nice," Emily said after a moment, her voice softer. "Feels like...we can just be ourselves here."
"Yeah," Liam agreed, his tone matching hers. "No politics. No backstabbing colleagues. Just us."
Emily grinner and picked up her phone.
"Liam, we don't have a picture of together, come here and smile for the camera" She said and dragged him closer to herself then took a selfie. You're so cute, partner. She smiled while looking at the selfie.
She turned her head to look at him, and he was already watching her. For a long beat, neither of them said anything.
Emily's hair was a mess from their pillow fight, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining. To Liam, she had never looked more beautiful.
Without thinking—without giving himself a chance to talk himself out of it—he leaned in and kissed her.
It was soft at first, tentative. Testing.
For a moment, Emily didn't pull away. She leaned into him, her lips moving against his in a way that made Liam's heart pound in his chest. It felt right. It felt like the thing he had been waiting for, without even realizing how badly he needed it. He gently wrapped his arms round her waist and deepened the kiss.
But then, abruptly, Emily pulled back, her eyes wide.
"Liam..." she breathed, pressing her fingers against her lips as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.
He froze. Panic creeping in. "Emily, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—"
She shook her head quickly. "No. It's not that I didn't want to. It's just... we shouldn't be doing this."
Liam's heart sank. He sat back, giving her space. "I get it," he said quietly, though his chest felt tight.
Emily stood up, pacing a few steps away, running a hand through her messy hair. She looked torn, conflicted. "We're partners, Liam. And friends. If we... if we cross that line, we might lose everything we have."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that what they had could be even more, that it didn't have to ruin anything. But he saw the fear in her eyes—the same fear he felt—and he knew pushing her wouldn't help.
"I should go," she said, grabbing her Royceet.
Liam stood too, feeling like an idiot for ruining the perfect night. "Emily—"
She turned to him at the door, her hand hovering over the knob. Her face softened as she looked at him.
"I care about you, Liam. So much. That's why this scares me."
He nodded, swallowing hard. "I care about you too."
For a moment, it seemed like she might change her mind. Like she might stay.
But then she opened the door and stepped out into the night, leaving Liam standing there alone, the door slowly swinging shut behind her.
He slumped against it, pressing his forehead to the wood.
Why did loving someone have to be so damn complicated?
He walked back to the living room in a daze, dropping heavily onto the couch. The movie was still playing, but he couldn't focus on it. All he could see was Emily—her smile, her laugh, the way her lips had felt against his. He wanted to feel her again in his arms. It felt right and he wished that time never ended.
He cursed under his breath and rubbed his hands over his face.
Maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off keeping things simple.
But deep down, Liam knew it was already too late.
He was in love with her.
And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't go back to pretending he wasn't.