runaway hide out

this was supposed to be Punk Cosima but it turned out too pastel so allow me to introduce you to: Hipster Cosima™ (the long awaited sequel to Soft Butch Cosima™)

An Open Heart is An Open Wound 1/??

Ta-da! Here’s the beginning of the Super (Not So) Secret Project I’ve been working on. A slow burn (Sort of) Cursed!Killian AU. Updates are going to be sporadic, my friends. It takes me ages to write a chapter. Also on if you prefer to read there, or if you just want to drop by and leave a lovely review. (I also accept flailing in the tags.) Hope it’s not to angsty for y’all. If it is, check out my one shots, some of them are pretty fluffy. Enjoy!

Chapter One

November 2001

The slamming car door jolted Killian Jones from his nap.

Not any car door, mind you, his car door. His car door that was attached to the car he’d stolen only a day before. Also the same car where he had been napping in the back seat. Carefully, Killian opened an eye, wary of how the newcomer would react to finding him in the back seat. He caught a glimpse of a leather jacket and a long, blonde ponytail as the woman in the front seat jammed a screwdriver into the ignition.

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

The woman started the car in record time, cranking the screwdriver and zooming off still completely oblivious that Killian la curled up in the back seat.

“I’m impressed, love,” Killian said, sitting up. The woman screamed, eyes wide behind her glasses. Killian ducked out of the way of that long blonde hair as she wrenched around to face him. “But really, you could have just asked me for the keys.”

Grinning, he dangled the keyring by her ear.

She seemed to have trouble deciding whether to keep those green eyes on him or on the road. Oh he liked her, gutsy enough to jimmy the car window and easy on the eyes as well.

“Just drive, love, it’s fine.” Killian patted her on the shoulder, causing her to jump and the car to weave as they pulled into traffic.

“I just stole your car. Your life could be in danger,” she said, the low pitch of her voice doing nothing to hide the slight waver.

He chuckled. “Killian Jones,” he said, leaning against the seat and propping his chin on his right hand.

“Yeah, I’m not telling you my name.” Her voice held steady this time as she eyed him through the rearview mirror.

“I shan’t need it to have you arrested,” Killian said, “when the robbery is still in progress.”

The woman glanced black at him. He recognized the look on her face. It was one he’d gotten many times since he came to this realm several months ago. He flashed his winning smile.

“Emma,” she said. She pressed her lips tightly together. In a tone so soft he might have missed it if he wasn’t leaning so close, she said, “Emma Swan.”

“Swan,” he said, letting the name roll around his mouth. “I like the sound of that.”

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