Emma was insusceptible to the noise that filled the space between the walls of the place she had called home for eleven months. Her day of freedom had come, and she anticipated the arrival of someone that belonged to her. He was miles away from her now, but each time he crossed her mind her grasp would tighten on the one and only thing that remained of him; a keychain with a beautiful swan on it.
Meeting him was a marvel. He was handsome, but not in the way you would expect. His dark messy hair and dark eyes to match made her heart dance. He was delighted with himself for popping up in the back of the stolen bug, and the grin he sported because of it had her eyes fluttering. She instantly read him like a book. He was a boy with a broken disposition and laughing eyes to mask it.
She fell in love with him; all of him. From the wrinkles in his face when he smiled, to the way he walked, she decided he was perfect for her. He introduced her to the concept of fate, and not under any condition had she forgotten what he had told her. It's something that unavoidably befalls a person. It was him to her, and her to him.
He was a thief, and he had hijakced her heart. The pain inflicted upon her had been ruthless, and she had spent too many days in that cell she called her own, questioning what she had done to deserve it. She played out any possible scenario as to why he might have to leave her alone, but at the end of each one, she remembered that she was only giving herself false hope. It was foolishness to attatch herself to the thought that someday he may come back and rescue her.
If only he had known about the person that connected them; their son.
Theirson was out there, and now he belonged to another family. She had dreams of a little boy that was snow white, with features comparable to his father's; brunette hair and eyes that were pools of hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled over the top. His childish giggle was infectious, and his smile would light up an entire room. She crumbled when he called his parents "mommy" and "daddy." She strugged to get his attention, only to become aware of the fact that she was invisible. Reaching for him would prove difficult when she found he was ungraspable.
Without exception, these dreams haunted her every night. Visions of her little boy were inescapable, and waking up to a stream of tears running down her face made it evident that she was heartbroken.
However, now she found herself standing outside in the pouring rain, trying to figure out what to do with herself next. She tried to leave, but remembered she had nowhere to go. So she stayed there, crossing her fingers behind her back in hopes that someone she belonged to would show up. Her dress and leggings weren't benefitting her in the weather, but her attention was averted when she saw a car in the distance coming her way.
She blinked away the fantasy of the little yellow bug driving towards her, and it was replaced with an old Ford pick up truck. It clunked along until it got to her, and to her amazement, it came to an abrupt stop right in front of her.
A man leaned over from the driver's seat to roll down the passenger side window. When he was finished, he began to talk in an irish accent, something Emma had only seen in movies.
"Get in," He advised her, pushing open the passenger door.
She let it fling open, her eyes scanning him skeptically. A soft laugh left him as he leaned back in his seat, awaiting her decision.
"Why?" She asked at last, her eyes meeting his for the first time.
"Ever waited for your knight in shining armor?" He paused, assuming she would answer. When she didn't he went on. "Well I'm not it, but I'm here to rescue you anyways."
Her stubborn expression didn't break, and he found himself letting out the smallest laugh.
"The inside of my car is getting wet. Hurry up and get in," He joked.
She raised an eyebrow at the level of sass he was throwing her, but assured herself that getting into a strange car with a strange man wasn't as bad as standing in freezing rain. Not like she hadn't done it before. Anyways, she knew how to handle herself if things got weird.
He removed his jacket and put the warm piece of leather around her shoulders.
"Thanks," She said, straightening out her dress.
"You talked, it's a miracle," He teased her, pushing his foot on the pedal.
She rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke.
"So what's your name?" She asked, keeping her eyes out the window.
"Graham. What about you?"
"Swan. Emma Swan," She revealed, already feeling like she had told him too much.
"What were you doing back there? You looked like you were waiting." The tone of his voice had became noticably sad.
"Yeah, I was," She admitted.
"For who? If you don't mind me asking."
"No- Uhm.. You? I guess..." Her voice drifted off.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the smile he was holding back.
"Nice to meet you, Emma. Now where to?"
"Wherever you're going," She said, smirking his way.
He pressed his foot to the pedal, causing the old, beat up truck to go just a little bit faster. He perceived her as the kind of person who didn't open up easily; who was afraid to speak. He let it slide, not knowing how that felt but only able to imagine it. The way he found her said a lot, but he figured he'd find it all out soon enough.
She didn't know where they were going, but she was grateful that he had appeared when he did.
