Singing in the Rain

For the lovely @annytecture

Emma could see Killian rolling his eyes when she glanced at him, and she heard every loud, exaggerated sigh he let out. “I don’t do this when you pick the movie,” she poked him in the side.

“Sorry love,” he said, “I just find it unbelievable. No one does this in real life. This man,” he gestured towards the screen, “wants me to believe singing and  dancing around in a storm is a normal thing?”

“It’s supposed to be fun.”

“I don’t understand.”

The man spent centuries chasing a crocodile, but he couldn’t understand the value of a good musical? Go figure. “It’s entertainment,” she explained, “and this one is a classic.”

“If you say so, Swan,” he shrugged in defeat, but she could tell the wheels in his head were turning.

After the movie ended, she stood up, giving him a funny look when he didn’t follow suit. “You’re not coming?”

“Not tired yet,” he shrugged, “I’ll join you shortly.”

Shortly never happened, she realized, when she came out the next morning to find him curled up on the couch, the title screen from “Singing in the Rain” still playing on the tv. She turned it off, then left him be as she got ready for work. Before heading out, she kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye.

He didn’t budge.

Careful not to wake him, she pulled the blanket up around him, and tucked him in before she left.

Keep reading