Tristan: "Emily? Everything ok?"

Emily stared accusingly at the ketchup, preparing to scold it for talking to her in Tristan's voice again. She was fairly certain they'd had this discussion before- no more talking condiments. The mustard had been very understanding and had kept quiet, though the mayonnaise had taken a little more convincing.

Emily: "I told you to be quiet!"
Tristan: "Emily?"

It took a few more seconds for her to realize that the voice wasn't coming from inside the refrigerator after all. Emily quickly turned around, slamming the door closed and doing her best to act natural. Her face was starting to hurt from smiling so damn much.

There he was, standing right there in the kitchen as if in a dream. Only Emily knew it couldn't be a dream- she'd been blissfully unaware of her dreams for a long time now. She let the forced smile fall from her face, replaced by cool indifference.

Emily: "Just looking for a plate."
Tristan: "Does Andrew tend to keep those in the fridge?"
Emily: "Maybe."
Tristan: "Are you alright? You seem a little… off."

Emily stared at Tristan for a good ten seconds, opening and closing her mouth in an almost comical display. She was fairly certain by now that her head would indeed explode at some point before the end of the evening. Finally, she rolled her eyes and turned back toward the refrigerator.

Emily: "Everything's just peachy, Tristan."
Tristan: "Em-"
Emily: "What do you want me to say?"
Tristan: "I just… I don't…"

Emily spun back around, nearly losing her balance in the process. The two glasses of eggnog she'd had earlier had gone straight to her head.

Emily: "What were you expecting? You just pack up and leave town in the dead of night without telling anyone-"
Tristan: "I told James."

Emily fell silent, taking a few deep breaths in the hopes of calming her nerves. She was fighting back the tears that were threatening to break yet again, sure she could win if she just focused a little harder. She refused to let anyone know just how badly she was shaken. Finally, after she was feeling woozy from breathing so deeply, she felt she could continue.

Emily: "I thought you were my friend."
Tristan: "I am your friend."
Emily: "Then why did you leave? Why did you go away without telling me?"

Tristan paused for a moment, the silence hanging between them like a crushing weight.

Tristan: "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Emily. That was never my intention."
Emily: "Well, you did. You hurt my feelings."
Tristan: "I just… needed to get away for a while, to think things over without any distractions."

Emily: "Do you always run away from your problems?"
Tristan: "Do you?"

Tristan regretted the words before they'd even fully left his mouth. He watched as a range of emotions played out across Emily's face before finally there was nothing.

Tristan: "Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
Emily: "You don't know anything about my problems. You don't know a damned thing about me."

Emily's voice was flat, void of any emotion- it shook Tristan to the very core of his being. She held his gaze for a second more before walking out, leaving him alone in the kitchen.