Baby bit written after 6x13 because I hear it's illegal to throw bricks at writer's houses when you're angry.
"Are you mad at me?" She asks and the shadows steal over her eyes that were so bright a moment ago, the little lost girl stealing in at his hesitation.
That's when he decides. He's going to ask her. He has to ask her because the idea that he could possibly be having second thoughts or would be angry at her for finding the ring he was careless with is bloody ridiculous. He won't stand for it, aches to see the happiness dim and hesitation steal across her beloved face. The way her cadence lowers and she whispers the question, terror right around the corner.
He'll be damned again before he lets that happen. "No. How could I ever be mad at you?"
He's already damned. The truth of his crimes stacking high behind his teeth, reminding him of how beneath this woman he is. He doesn't deserve to lick the heel of her boot, much less place that ring on her finger.
"It's just you and me. No walls. No secrets." Oh, how tragically wrong his love is. Killian's secrets turns his tongue heavy. He tries to push it out, desperately to set it free. But Emma's smile is a tentative, affectionate thing and there's red around her eyes.
She's been crying.
How in fucking damnation is he supposed to tell her now? To take this perfect moment from her and make it ugly.
"I know I ruined the surprise," She placed the ring into his hand, hand that she has no idea has spilled her blood. He's half-amazed he doesn't burn at the touch.
"But what do you say?" Emma is all hesitant sweetness and halting excitement, as if she has broken this precious moment with her discovery rather than how he has broken it with unsaid words and his black, sordid soul.
She's been crying, and she's clearly terrified and yet so, so brave: his Swan. He loves her. Loves her too much to make her wait another second to let her know that the only thing he is certain of in this life is that he will always, always love this woman.
Killian bends his knee.
Even if she hates him one day for what he's done. He's going to give this to her: this untainted memory of knowing that someone wanted her forever. She deserves to carry that knowledge with her.
For all that he has done wrong, he will do this right. "Emma Swan,"
A tentative smile curls unbidden at his lips because despite the keening throb of his lie, Killian is just a man who has wanted to marry the love of his life for years now. He's lost her time and again, and she him until it seemed impossible.
And yet there she stands, the apples of her cheeks pink with delight and the hanging light above them making her hair burn to gold. She's open and soft, and in their home. It is everything Killian Jones has ever wanted and more than Captain Hook ever dreamed of, and for a moment, there is no darkness, no burden that can taint his delight in this moment.
"Will you marry me?" He slides the ring on her finger, imprinting the image into the back of his eyes. His ring, on Swan's finger. The promise of a lifetime of partnership and love and-
"Yes," She's reaching for him, pulling him up to bring him close and kiss him.
She draws the life out of him with her kiss, lips warm and inviting as they take all the blackness out, making room only for the beauty of her soul, the fierceness of her heart.
"Yes, Killian, yes." He can no more stop from embracing her than he could tame the sea. Every part of him bows to her, belongs to his Saviour. So Killian kisses her back, nipping her lip and opening willingly to her tongue and touch.
If she swallowed him down, he'd be better for it.
Emma's arms band around his neck, the cotton of her sweater scratches under his chin but the weight of her embrace is a welcome touch, the only thing grounding him to this moment as his smile unfurls and he half believes himself to be dreaming.
There is more happiness in this moment that he has known in all the years before him.
Emma shifts, nuzzling and burrowing into his shoulder. Her feels her sag, her toes dragging on the floor as he takes almost her own weight. He feels her eyelashes flutter against his cheek as they close, her grip on him loosening until its a simple touch.
This is Emma Swan, feeling utterly and totally safe in his embrace. Trusting in the certainty of his soul to guard her and keep her and love her-
It's that thought that makes him swallow, casts the furrow between his brow.
She trusts him. If the openness in her body wasn't telling, the shine from her ring sings it. Emma Swan, the most distrustful of all creatures known to man, the runner, the little lost girl with all her walls-
She's cast every piece of armour away and he's lying to her.
He's spilled her bloody and hurt her father and how, oh how can he tell her when she's swinging in his arms, pliant and joyful. How can he ruin that when it is all he's ever wanted for her? Wound the heart that he wants to protect more than any other.
A shudder runs down Killian and he tightens his grip on Emma, swallowing back a cry and shutting his eyes.
There's no saving the damned, it seems.