sometimes emma writes things

like an ocean in your eyes

Because I am emotionally compromised and after 5x10 I think these two are going to be needing a serious heart to heart with tears and hugging and the perfect dramatic music to go with it. 

I’ll show you how to live again, and heal the brokenness within. Let me love you when you come undone

For weeks after they returned from the Underworld, Emma found it she had trouble sleeping. She knew the primary reason was the status of her relationship with Killian. Honestly, how is it possible to rest when the steady foundation you had built and relied upon was suddenly cracked and burned under your feet? She had done things she regretted and she knew he regretted what he had done. It didn’t make it any easier.

Getting back to Storybrooke seemed to make everything more real to him. He shut himself off from her, from everyone, choosing to spend his time wandering by the docks. And in a way, Emma understood the need to be alone. She needed time to reconcile with herself, with Henry, with her parents. She refused to isolate herself from them again, knowing that working to rebuild what she had with Killian would take support and for that she needed her family.

Initially she had thought that she would wait for him to come to her first. To everyone else, he always seemed to fight for them more than she did. Maybe that was why they had doubted how strongly she felt for him. She still saw him around town and with her family, but there was an uncomfortable tension that hadn’t existed before. They were trapped in limbo-not exactly separated, but definitely not together.

Eventually it became clear that he wasn’t going to make the first move and she should have realized sooner. He always let her make the first move, and she was kicking herself for not realizing it sooner. Knowing him, he was probably thinking she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore and shouldering all the blame for everything that had gone wrong.

How had everything gone so wrong?

That was how she found herself seeking him out at the docks a full six weeks after their return from the land of the dead. She found him in the same spot they had sat after she returned with Lily and he had encouraged her to reconcile with her parents. Now she needed to reconcile with him. His head turned in her direction as she approached him.

“Killian can we talk. Please?” she shifted nervously on her feet.

“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already told myself, Swan,” he muttered, taking a long drink from his flask.

She moved cautiously forward. “I doubt that,” she said, hoping beyond hope that he would give her a chance. “Could we go back to your ship?”

He shrugged and moved to stand. “Why not,” his voice was gruff. “I’m out of rum anyway,” he murmured, soft enough that she doubted she was meant to hear it. She saw the purple bags under his eyes that rivaled hers and it was only confirmation of everything she had suspected.

He was miserable. He thought she hated him. He felt alone.

She followed behind him, observing the stiff way he walked and his shoulders sagging like they held the weight of the world. He looked like a man being escorted to his execution and she realized how damaged he was by her prolonged absence.

She found her voice when they entered his cabin. “I feel like you need to talk about everything. You know, get everything off your chest,” she said as he walked over to his desk and pulled a bottle of rum from one of the drawers.

He took a drink from the bottle and leaned against the desk before setting it with a clank on the wood. “I’ve spent the last six weeks thinking you wanted nothing to do with me, and then you show up here and what? You want everything to go back to normal?” he scoffed, looking up and meeting her eyes for the first time.

“Killian, I want nothing more than for things to be the way they were between us, but I don’t expect that to happen. I just know that I can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep acting like where we are now doesn’t bother me,” she pleaded.

He refused to meet her eyes when he spoke again. “I begged you not to turn me into that and you did it anyway. I did things I never would have done otherwise and it feels a lot like you hate me for what you made me into.” His tone isn’t sharp, but the words cut her any way.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t have done the same thing?”

“Of course I would have, Emma. But you’re supposed to be better than me, you’re supposed to always do the right thing!”

“I can’t be this perfect person, Killian. You can’t put me on a pedestal and expect more from me than everyone else. Maybe letting you die was the best choice for the greater good, but for once I wasn’t fighting for everyone else, I was fighting for me and the man I love,” she was almost yelling, tears burning in her eyes. Maybe she had been selfish, but after a lifetime of losing everyone close to her, she wasn’t going to lose him.

He froze at her words, his breath stuttering in his chest. “Love. Not loved?” He looked as if he wanted to have hope, but was afraid to.

“Love,” she repeated, coming to stand between his legs and run her hands through his hair and offer him a feeble smile.

He closed his eyes at her ministrations his hand coming to cautiously rest on her hip and sighing when she didn’t pull away. “After everything I’ve done…” he whispered

She pressed on, taking what little progress she could get as good news. “I won’t lie, it hurts. It hurts a lot, having every flaw you see in yourself thrown in your face like that. But you seem to be forgetting that I know what it’s like, to have your love for someone distorted and mangled like that. I know you didn’t mean any of those things you said, and I’ve forgiven you.”

“That just makes it worse, because at the root of it all, I did mean them. You pushed me away for so long when all I was doing was trying to love you. I never really dealt with the darkness in my past, only pushed it aside. And you just said so yourself, I hurt you, Emma. Those things I said were horrible and weren’t even lies. I don’t understand how you could even look at me,” he turned his face away from her and her hands fell to his shoulders

Emma stood frozen for a full minute. She had spent so long focusing on how he was there for her and putting aside his own fears and insecurities that she had forgotten to be there for him. His walls were just as high as hers and perhaps even stronger and she hadn’t realized.

She took a steadying breath before she spoke again. “Because when I look at you, I see a man who was cursed with darkness and was manipulated by it and managed to fight it off for the second time.” She tilted his chin up so he would look her in the eyes. “You broke its hold on you when it tried to hurt me, and if that’s not proof of how much you love me then I don’t know what is.”

“Killian, I regret everything that I did while I was the Dark One, but I can’t bring myself to regret saving you. I hate what we’ve done to each other, but if I had to go through it again so that you could live, I would do it in a heartbeat,” she said. “Even if you don’t want to be with me anymore, you’re alive and that is what’s important.”

He shook his head in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe what she had said. “Of course I still want to be with you, Emma. The question is why do you want to be with me?”

He looked so broken and it caused an ache to rise in her chest. He honestly believed he was too far gone for them to

“Don’t you know, Killian?” she echoed his words to her. “I love you. No matter what you’ve done.”

The tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes fell and the sight caused the dam to break in her too. Suddenly she couldn’t stand the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cradled his head to her chest, and his hand hesitantly came to rest at the small of her back before he grasped her tightly to him. His nose pressed into the hollow of her throat and she could feel hot tears on the front of her sweater. She buried her nose in his hair

After both their tears had subsided, she pulled him over so they both lay on the narrow bunk in the corner. Neither one was ready to move forward yet in that aspect of their relationship, but they both needed the closeness.

“Emma, we still have a lot to work through, you know that right?” he whispered, his hand running up her spine to tangle in her hair.

She leaned in and touched her forehead to his, reveling in the fact that they were holding each other again. “I know. But I’d say this is a good first step.”

As she was falling asleep, finally able to rest easy, she felt his kiss gentle on her brow. When he spoke, his voice was groggy, on the edge of sleep himself.

“I love you too, Emma. Always.”

((This is going to be a violet colored bloodbath))

*A rather bored looking violetblood floated in the shallows, pretty much just laying on his back and staring off into lord knows where. He hadn’t bothered to bring his better hook with him today, because really, who attacks a seadweller? Only the crazy soon-to-be-dead people that’s who. Yeah he was feeling pretty confident in this area. And if anyone DID attack him, well, he was feeling a little hungry.*

((I’m sorry I can’t start anything I fail at life))

You sigh a little out of a boredom, dragging your pipe behind you, the metal clinking every once and a while. Sometimes it was the only sound this night… Your familiar weapon, telling you it was always at your side. Something catches your eye, and you immediately slink into the shadows. You stare out into the water, your lips curling into a smirk. A figure floated out in the shallow water, and you could clearly tell that they were a sea dweller, just like yourself. Interesting… it’s been a while since you’d been able to spill some violet blood.

Christmas Countdown (3/16)

“I’m working in the fitting room on Christmas Eve and you keep coming over here, it’s been two hours, why are you here?”

Yesterday’s fic here. From the beginning here.

Working retail was a special kind of torture, but someone had to do it. And Emma Swan was every manager’s dream employee. She was a grad student working on a law degree, but since the semester was over, she was available any time. It’s not like she had any reason to request off work. She had no family to speak of, and her friends had all gone home for winter break. Mary Margaret and Ruby had both invited her, but she hadn’t really felt the desire to spend the holiday with a happy family when she didn’t have one. So she spent her free time alone in the apartment she shared with her two friends watching Netflix.

Which is how she ended up working an eight hour shift on Christmas Eve. In the fitting room no less. Talk about being an island. There were maybe three customers in the store and she still had three hours until close. It was going to be a long night.

Speaking of customers, there he was again. The guy had to have come by to try stuff on at least four times and he’d been in the store for over two hours.

He was incredibly attractive (she wasn’t blind) with the startling blue eyes surrounded by long lashes, and dark hair that looked disheveled enough that it looked unintentional, but just barely. He had scruff on his jaw and eyebrows that acted of their own accord when he would grin at her. Which was often.

 He always brought in only a couple things and would leave to return with a completely different ensemble. She didn’t mind on busy days, but she was craving something to do and if he wasn’t going to get something the least he could do was allow her to put it back on the rack. And not keep asking her opinion on everything (she wasn’t necessarily complaining about an excuse to examine him head to toe, but it was still annoying).

“Last time, love, and I swear I’ll stop bothering you,” he said, holding out his hands for her to count his items and give him a number.

“Who said you were?” she asked, suddenly defensive. He wasn’t bothering her necessarily, it’s just that she wanted stuff to do and he wasn’t letting her have stuff to do. Slight irritation at most.

“You don’t realize it, but you’re quite easy to read. Something of an open book.”

She stared after him as he took the plastic number from her fingers. The entire time he was in the changing room she was contemplating what he said. Open book? Hardly. She had learned from foster care and from having her heart broken how not to show emotion and she was good at it.

He emerged from the room and she was a little disappointed he wasn’t wearing a new outfit for her to critique.

“What do you mean open book?” she asked, before he could even open his mouth.

His eyes danced with mischief as he grinned as if she had played right into his hand.

“As I said, you’re easy to read. Don’t be too worried, to the common man you are very much a mystery.

She wasn’t going to admit that she was impressed, but she was impressed. “Well, Detective Holmes, I think you need to work on your observation skills,” she said, and her smile was a little less customer service and a little more on the flirty side. The guy was hot, and Ruby would yell at her if she didn’t take the opportunity.  

“It’s Killian, actually. Killian Jones,” he said, handing her the plastic number. His smile said he definitely knew she was flirting with him.

“So, Killian, why are you out so late? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, shouldn’t all your shopping be done already?” she asked.

“My life exists in a dull cycle of work and home. Other than the typical gifts for work friends, I don’t have to do much shopping. Which is actually pretty great because I don’t want to break anything when my credit card bill comes in, unlike some people,” he smiled. Emma laughed. She hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until he crossed his arms on top of the podium she was working behind.

“No family you’re close to then?” she blurted out, and she immediately kicked herself afterwards. She hated when people asked her that very same question, and the look on her face must have given her away because he deflected the question as well as she did when she got it.

“That, love, is a conversation better had when you are not on the clock.”

She rolled her eyes at the thinly veiled flirtation. “Is that your way of hitting on me?”

“No, when I kept repeatedly asking your opinion on which jeans looked better, that was my way of hitting on you. This is me asking if you would like to get a drink with me,” he grinned and she felt herself blush because she definitely hadn’t minded critiquing jeans.

Then she realized that he had actually asked her out and she really didn’t know how to respond. Sure she had been to bars a few times to snag the occasional one night stand and had gone on a few blind dates to appease Ruby and Mary Margaret but an actual date where she knew who she would be with before she met them? Not her style. So she did what she always did when faced with anything involving feelings. She resisted.

“I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here, aren’t I? If I say no, you know where I work. You could just keep showing up here and stalk me.”

As she spoke, his smile changed into a more knowing one. “Remember what I said about being an open book? You’ve been hurt before and you’re afraid to trust me,” he said, and she stared at him with an open mouth because it had taken this stranger all of ten seconds to see right through her.

“In any case, you know my name, so you know who to report to the police if I start hanging around you too much. Have a good night, love,” he turned to walk away and something in her told her to stop him.

“Killian, wait,” he turned back to her immediately. “We close at eight. I can meet you at The Rabbit Hole downtown at 9. Do you know it?”

“Aye, I know it. I’ll be the dashing one waiting at the bar.” His words were flirty but his eyes betrayed his obvious joy that she had agreed.

“Wear that black Henley you had earlier. and roll the sleeves up, girls love that,” she grinned, suddenly anxious for her shift to be over.

“You know, I do typically like to know the name of the lovely woman that I intend to get a drink with,” he said.

Now she really couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “My name is Emma. Surely you’ve seen my name tag at least once in the billion times you’ve come in here,” she joked.

He chuckled. “Perhaps I did, in the twelve times I came over,” he emphasized, “But I thought I’d be a gentleman and let you tell me on your own terms. Emma.” She shivered despite the warmth she felt when he said her name.

Her eyes flickered to his lips for split second, but it was enough that he caught it. His tongue came out run across his bottom lip and

“See you tonight,” he said, holding her eyes while he backed away from her slowly, before turning to walk to the registers.

He was right where he said he would be, and she had to admit it was a pleasant surprise. She refused his offer to pay for her drink, just like he refused her offer to accompany him home. He didn’t even kiss her. For that, he waited until New Year. Sometimes clichéd traditions aren’t so bad.

And next Christmas Eve she had a reason to request off work, with a ring on her finger the next day to prove it.