When the rain starts to pour
Prompt: “I forgot my umbrella and you offered to walk me home in the rain and I thought this would be the beginning of a cute love story but you’re really shit at this oh my god my shoulder is so wet, hold the damn thing properly ” au from this post
So here I am again. I lost inspiration and may or may not be flailing over Dark Swan, why am I so excited and nervous, hence the reason for fluff before the angst sets in.
F for fluff and flirtiness
Enjoy on ff net here
Oh and think of Emma and Killian on the way to Neverland because it will help.
As much as Emma loved the bug, the only true constant in her life for the past 10 years, she didn’t love driving around New York unless it was necessary, so on days like today when she was just working in the office she decided to walk or take the subway.
The walk often let her clear her head and mentally prepare a list of things she needed to get, food that wasn’t precariously out of date, was one of them, there were only so much time she could live off takeout’s. Unfortunately. That was when it wasn’t raining.
Today hadn’t been her day, the stacks of paper on her desk seemingly insurmountable, the idle chit chat between her colleagues that was quite honestly boring. She preferred to just get her work done rather than gossip about the latest hot boy in town. It was New York, there was always going to be someone else. Then after what seemed like years it was time for her to leave, there was one problem it was raining, not just a light drizzle but the rain that relentlessly lashes down, getting you soaked in seconds and she had forgotten her umbrella. She sifted through her purse and to her disappointment, although not unexpectedly she didn’t have enough money for a cab. She could get the subway but it was rush hour and it would be heaving and Emma was never really a people person and being pent up against someone who didn’t understand the concept of personal hygiene might just push her away. Sighing she made her way down the street, ready for a long cold and very wet journey.
Why he chose to come to New York he still didn’t really understand, maybe it was the young boy in him who still naively believed that fairytales can come true. He scoffed at himself, what a bloody ridiculous thought. It may not be the city that made everyone’s dreams come true, he expected that more hearts had been shattered than mended in this city, but New York was certainly huge. Easy enough to lose yourself, to blend in, the closest to anonymity you could get in a world where privacy was a rarity not a right. He shouldn’t really be surprised that it had started to pour it down, with the foul mood he was in. He put up his umbrella and made his way back to his dingy apartment. He figured rum would be more comfort than a cab tonight.
She was standing at the intersection, waiting, impatiently for the damned man to turn green. Time was supposed to stand still when she was having fun, not a drowned rat. That’s when she saw him, the cocky bastard, strolling casually towards the crossing. The man turned green, finally, and he had to run to get across. She couldn’t stop the laugh escaping her mouth, or the thought that he was really hot entering her mind.
She was a vision, well a very wet vision at that. Her hair sticking to her face, her red leather jacket clearly not suitable for the weather, at least her foot wear was a pit more appropriate, knee high boots and the soaked skin tight jeans leaving little to the imagination. Perhaps if he’d spent less time admiring her rather beautiful figure he would’ve got to the crossing quicker and wouldn’t have had to run. Cursing he dashed across the crossing, weaving through the throngs of the homeward bound New Yorkers trying to get closer to the blonde siren.
Emma sped up, the last thing she needed was some smug, and rather handsome, idiot to point out the inadequacies in her preparation for the weather. Too late he was behind her.
“Excuse me love, you can stand under my umbrella, ella, ey”
Dork and he had an accent, British or Irish, of course.
“A) I am not your love and B) we’re on a street in New York, not at Karaoke “
“Apologies milady but what would you prefer to call me, your name perhaps, but as you expertly we are on the streets of New York, so nothing should surprise you and I was merely being a gentleman”
She smirked he was quick and from the 19TH century apparently.
“Smooth” shit she didn’t know his name
“Killian Jones at your service” he offered, curtseying and holding the umbrella over both of them”
He was an idiot
“Smooth Jones, its Emma Swan and now you’re a gentleman”
“Swan, that’s explains why you’re so beautiful even in this awful weather and I’m always a gentleman, now scoot closer”
There it was, the insult, or was it flirting. No it was an insult, because Emma did not like it when people flirted with her.
“Okay Jones, I didn’t know it was going to rain ok and I forgot my umbrella.”
“Of Course, Swan. “ He replied.