When life leaves you high and dry

I'll be at your door tonight

If you need help

If you need help

gone, gone, gone by phillip phillips


"You've got to be kidding me," Emma mutters, yanking the door shut after hearing some rather distracting- fucking- sounds.

It's late, she really, really needs to work on her culminating art project, but thanks to her friend Ruby- oh, well, roommate too- she's practically been exiled- sexiled if you will- from her own dorm. That's not a pleasant sight to behold, nor are the sounds splendid when it goes through her ears. Now, it's something that's going to be stuck in her mind forever.

The hallways are empty at the moment, and with no where else to go- it's far too late to even consider going anywhere- she crashes against the wall, slumping down with her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on top. Without getting the chance to double-check her thinking or options, her mind drifts off, her eyes feel heavy as if someone's stepping on them, and she falls asleep.

This art project is supposed to be worth fifteen percent of her mark for this semester, she needs to get it done. Props to her brunette friend for having some sex with a guy that's going to study something about Medicine- excuse her incompetent knowledge in the medical field- and completely forgetting that her artistic roommate required a peaceful environment to work. That is definitely not a peaceful environment in general.

Emma's off in her own world, her mind greasing and grinding out more ideas while she's sleeping than when she's awake and aware of her surroundings. That is, until a certain someone decides to disrupt her rather peaceful sleep with shaking her shoulder and calling her name. Except, that accent is certainly familiar, and so is this smell she's wafting into her nose by accident. Her eyes crack open, trying to take in the light, and the person standing in front of her.

Ugh, Killian Jones, architectural student who has cocky behaviour and can get about every girl on campus, is standing in front of her with a… concerned look.

"Fuck off, Jones," she hisses, rubbing her eyes.

"Why so hostile, darling?" he drawls, frowning. "And if you don't mind me asking, why in the world are you out in the hallway sleeping instead of being in your dorm?"

"To think you would have heard the noises from next door," she grumbles, banging her head on the wall. "Ruby and Victor were at it. Again."

He sighs, probably of relief- and how does she know this? Killian offers her a hand, and instead of being a complete asshole, she decides to take it as he pulls her up and off the floor.

Her neck is sore, her back hurts like hell from leaning against a wall for like seven hours, and her brain is half-awake at the moment, trying to take in everything at once. At first, she thinks it's a good idea to go into the room, but knowing Ruby and Victor, she knows they're still in there probably in bed like the complete unintentional jerks they are, and that sets her on edge. She can't just walk in and not expect naked people to be laying in bed after something as vicious as last nights events.

"Swan, do you have any classes today?"

Thinking about it, she shakes her head. "Not today. I have to work on my project which was rudely interrupted by the two that are still probably worn out from… those exhausting activities," she starts from something strong to murmuring, running a hand over her face. "To hell with it. I'm not in the mood to deal with either of them for completely screwing over my plans," she mutters.

"If you'd like, you may retire to my bed and get some rest until the two of them are gone," he offers genuinely.

Although Killian Jones is a smug bastard himself, she knows him well enough to know when he's being sincere and not being a flirtatious jerk who makes an innuendo out of every statement she makes. Considering his offer however, it is outrageously tempting as she reluctantly nods. He grins and cocks his head to the side, letting her go first.

"To think you'd try to get me into your bed by doing something far more infuriating," she teases, grabbing the door knob and pushing the door open.

"Who do you take me as, love?" he asks, closing the door behind him. "Left bed, by the way."

She nods and falls onto his bed, the feeling of a mattress makes her sigh of relief and contentment. "I don't know." She rids herself of her shoes and swings her legs up. "We've known each other for three years, you always have some ulterior motive behind your back when you try helping me."

He chuckles, dropping down in his chair. "Have you ever considered that I was just trying to be helpful?"

"Thanks for changing my perspective on you three years later," she jokes, letting her slide close. She takes in the smell of him, everything of him on his bed. His sheets, the pillow, the bed itself. Having Killian live in the dorm next to her sometimes helps. Except when she's in the most foul mood ever. Which is now. But he offered her his bed. "Help me now," she grunts, gritting her teeth at the thought of two very occupied people in bed.

"You know I was going to go get myself some coffee, until I noticed a rather vexed Emma Swan who appeared dead against the wall," he says, leaning back in the chair. "Tell you what," he breathes out, "I shall aid you in your art project, if you go out and have coffee with me."

She stops breathing. For a second.

After Neal had let her down and had been arrested for stolen goods and trafficking of drugs, she was giving up. After the entire… hoax with Walsh a year ago, finally recovering from the stupid heartbreak she was feeling, she's still yet to think about considering dating another guy. "I don't need any help," she quietly responds, feeling as if her throat had turned dry. It's a topic she avoids talking about.

"Swan?"

Letting out a shaky breath, she turns her head and glares at him. "What?" It comes out sounding more harsh than intended.

"I'm sorry for asking, it was a rather bold request," he tells her, his tone of voice soft and real.

"No, it's fine." Turning onto her side, it's an attempt to make very little eye contact after noticing the sympathy in his eyes- no, she can't get into anything. "I just- I never had a good record with dates and relationships," she murmurs, "nor do I intend to date again. Not after what I've been through."

"I understand."

She sighs, her hand clenching into a fist at her chest. "Thanks, Killian."

At some point, she falls asleep rather cluelessly, and all she remembers is the sound of the door clicking from him leaving. After that conversation, memories of her difficult past start showing up in her mind again, making her wake up in a gasp. Get a grip, she tells herself, letting her head drop back against his pillow. She shouldn't let a simple talk like that make her break down. She refuses to let such a weakness and vulnerability show through.

She's just about to leave and go check if Ruby and Victor have left yet, but of course he saunters in right at that moment with two cups of Starbucks. She knows one is for her. And since she sort of owes it to him for letting her get a big of sleep on his bed, she takes the cup out of his hand and sits down on the bed. For a bit, they don't really talk, at least not until he decides to ask about what her project is about.

"I have to find song lyrics or something like that and recreate it into my own interpretation," she briefly explains, sipping on her coffee. "And I've had real shit luck at the moment with inspiration." She sighs, shaking her head. "Last night was supposed to be the night I pull an all-nighter on gathering ideas," she mutters.

Killian hums as if he's thinking, nodding to himself. "Well, have you considered listening to songs of all genres? Perhaps more diversity will help," he suggest, placing his cup down. "And if you still cannot find any inspiration, I shall help you to the best of my abilities without anything in return."

"You're being awfully generous," she says suspiciously, "why?"

"Being a good friend?"

She laughs. "Huh, very plausible reason, Jones."

"Aye, because it is the truth." He shrugs. "When's your project due?"

"End of the month, which is like..." She thinks about the date at the moment, and she groans. "Two weeks from now." Emma groans, huffing out a breath.

"No worries, Swan. I've got your back on this one."

"Thanks, but don't you have your own projects to do?" she asks. "I mean, you can't be possibly free to help a friend to this extent."

"You're right, I do have my own project to do. Which is already ninety percent done of course," he answers, stretching his legs out. "Which leaves me with a hell of a lot leisure time when I'm not in class."

"You've got to be joking. How do you do your projects so fast?"

Chuckling, he stands up and grabs his cup to throw in the garbage. "Secrets are secrets, darling."

The door swings open with a David standing there. "He- Woah, what did I just walk into?" he asks.

"A conversation about projects," she mumbles, finishing her coffee. "I'd assume you were with Mary Margaret last night?"

"Yeah… I was."

Lucky you. "Well, I think I'll be going to check if… Ruby and Victor are still there," she says, throwing her cup in the garbage. "I'll talk to you two later."

And with that, she speeds out the room to avoid any more awkward conversations with either of them. Especially with David who can be quick to assume things that are very unlikely, but seems to be that way when he approaches the situation at first sight. Taking a few steps to her left, she cautiously knocks on the door, and she can hear a pair of voices inside. She rolls her eyes right when the doors open up with a slightly embarrassed looking Ruby.

"Oh, Emma, uh- sorry about last night," she tries to apologize.

"You know what? Let me just… grab my stuff and I'll go to David and Killian's for a bit while you two sort out whatever," she says, slipping past her and quickly reaching for her sketchbook, pencil, eraser and her trusty laptop. "I'll see you tonight, or yeah- tonight."

Avoiding all possible awkward contact for the second time already, she closes the door behind her quickly and then knocks on Killian's dorm again.

"Swan? Back so early for me, love?"

Everything's about him, she's not even going to wonder about the things that go on in his mind while he makes such comments. "Shut up," she mutters, slipping past him. "Those idiots are still in there, and I just grabbed my stuff and made a run for it."

"Might as well have you live with me from now on," he jokes, letting her in. "Have you ever considered maybe renting an actual apartment of the sorts instead of living in a dormitory? Saves you a lot more trouble from situations like… that you find yourself in," Killian suggests. "Probably cheaper too."

"Me and Mary Margaret are actually considering that," David chimes in, "so you can stay here for as long as you need if Vic and Ruby are going at it as often as you say they are."

"Trust me, they are going at it a lot, you might as well consider it a sin," she quips, placing her laptop onto the desk. "They're great friends and all, but I really don't know how much longer I can deal with their shit." Usually she doesn't complain about her friends, but with this project worth so much for her final mark, she's just been really on edge and stressed out about it.

"Well, Mary Margaret's roommate just dropped out, so I'm probably going to be spending time with her instead. You can stay here in my bed for awhile if you'd like," David offers, grabbing his own possessions and stuffing it in his bag. "That is if you don't mind dealing with Jones, who's actually not as bad as I thought for having a roommate."

"Thank you for your compliment, mate," Killian responds, popping the 't.'

"I've been with worst," she murmurs (implying Walsh and Neal), throwing her sketchbook on the bed. "I think I can undoubtedly deal with him for now. At least until he starts singing in the morning or something stupid."

"For the record, Swan, I can sing."

"For the love of god," she whispers under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose at the news of him being able to sing. "You better be at least half-decent if you want to sing around me… Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to zone out."

David laughs. "Well," he starts, "I'll see you two later," David says, leaving them to themselves.

Ignoring Killian has never been harder in her life. Yes, she's done so for three years straight, but he's focusing on his own project- finishing it, probably- while she's staring down at lyrics at the songs she's listening to from the very beginning. Her eyes seem to drift from the screen in front of her, to her sketchbook, then straight to a very busy Killian Jones leaning against the wall with his pen moving swiftly across the paper in front of him. If she has to be honest, he's one of the most talented architectural-artistic students she's ever known, let alone seen.

He has a big imagination as well, he's good with numbers, he's good with designing, and he's… good with the ladies. Except, through the three years of knowing him, he's never tried having a serious relationship with a girl, let alone have one night stands or anything of the sort. It does surprise her, because Emma's not blind, he is an appealing man, attractive with his leather jacket, his swept hair, and his drowning blue eyes. She's not blind to know he's hot. Even Ruby, who's dating Victor, claims Killian is a walking magnet.

And to be honest, she'd be lying if she never thought about making liking him a bit more than a friend. However, she's not willing to jump back into relationships, not after the ridiculous amount of lies Walsh had been keeping from her, and then the possibility of a heavy letdown with the way Neal had done with her. It's just not her thing, perhaps her life is just to be alone, to not go into dating and boyfriends and stuff like that. It's highly probable that it's not the style of life meant for her, and by all means, she's gotten that message loud and clear now.

Meanwhile, Ships In The Night by Mat Kearney starts playing and something sparks inside of her. Immediately, she jots down the notes into her sketchbook, also making a small thumbnail image beside it in case she wants to follow through with it.

"An idea there, love?"

She nearly jumps out of the chair because she's so caught up in her own business. "Uh, yeah," she stammers, pausing the song at the chorus. "I feel confident that this is the one," she says, pulling the earphones out of her ears.

He pulls the other chair down next to her. "Talk."

"Okay, so…"