docholligay:

The follow-up to this fic. All of my OW verse is here. 

She turned the card over in her hand, her fingers rushing across the embossed seal. It should be easy, but in her mind, nothing ever was, everything felt like a giant, embarrassing nightmare.

Just call. She wouldn’t have given you her number if she didn’t want you to call. It’s already in your phone.

She sighed heavily. She should have given Tracer her number that night in the pub, so she could call first, so she would know it hadn’t been out of pity. She had tried not to, but she hadn’t been able to keep herself from googling Tracer. She was handsome, and famous, in a way, and Emily wasn’t sure what she’d ever see in a boring girl like her. She was surrounded by the best and brightest minds in the world, all day every day. Not people like Emily.

She’ll go on one date with me and never call me again. It’s been a week since she gave me her number, and it’s too late now.

She threw down the card and walked the short distance of her small flat to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine. How long had it been since she’d been on a date with a girl? A long time, it felt like. Her friends were always telling her she needed to try, to get out more, to actually talk to a girl. But there was nothing in Emily that was overly gregarious, even when she wanted to be. She envied those people who could charm anyone.

Someone like Tracer.

She walked her wine back to the couch and sat down? How would it even work? With Tracer’s job, jetting around the world, and her…thing, with the time? What would being with her even be like, if it came to that?

Well, you’ll never know if you don’t try.

She grabbed her phone, and thought again about that night in the pub, how she had sparkled even in the dimness of it, the way her hair tossed carelessly, the way she moved, humming with a constant energy and palpable joy.

She caught herself smiling, without meaning to.

Her hand shook as she looked down at her phone and paged through her contacts, until her eyes finally fell on her name. Beep. She hit the button and pressed it to her ear, terrified by the terrible ringing on the other end of the line.

Please don’t pick up. Please let me leave a message. Please please please pl–

“‘Ello?” There was her voice, still like a burst of light.

“Lena?” Her voice shook. “This is–this is Emily. I’m sure you don’t–”

“Oh, thought you’d never call, love!” Emily could hear the smile on her face. “Beginning to wonder if I might of offended you.”

Emily took another drink of her wine. “No, ‘course not.”

“So is this you accepting me offer of a date? Promise I’ll take you someplace a bit finer this time.”

Emily blushed, even though no one could see. “Oh, don’t go to any trouble, I–”

“It’s not trouble if I want to do it, now is it? Else,” She laughed, “I’m only troubling meself on account of me. Emily,” Her voice had a playful gravity to it. “May I escort you on a proper date? I’ve an in at a few places, so even if you ‘ate me, food’ll be tip top.”

Emily gave a soft giggle. “I’d like that. Very much.”

“Brilliant! Really.” She gave another peal of laughter, and Emily broke into a giant grin.

She rushed to her closet as soon as she hung up the phone, still smiling.