"You know, you don't have to do this."
"Okay."
"Wait, what?!"
"I'm merely messing with you, Swan."
Emma huffs out a breath in relief and offers him half a smile. She wouldn't blame him if he had a change of heart. He barely knew her and she probably seemed a little crazy over the past couple hours.
She had driven around the neighborhood for half an hour, trying to allow as many people as possible to arrive at the Christmas Eve party before them. The less one on one time she had to spend with her father, the better. Killian hadn't said a word about Emma's flourish of nervous energy, but anyone would be accurate in saying that she certainly seemed a little crazy right now.
They had met nearly a year and a half ago. At the time, Emma had reached a point in her life that she never, in her wildest dreams, imagined she'd be dealing with. After years of wallowing - Emma certainly wouldn't call it that - she needed a change.
She had bounced around colleges for years, winding up in Florida at a film school. Movies and television had always been her passion, with everything she dealt with in her childhood, films of any kind were her escape. Stories of love or adventure, of thrilling action or quiet reflection, stories that she desperately yearned to tell. Stories that she hoped, someday, would help another child like her find escape from their lives. After Emma graduated, she made her move to Los Angeles. The little girl inside of her would be flipping out over such a development in her life.
But Emma knew she faced a daunting climb to any sort of success. Her heart had been broken. At 18 years old, she thought she had found her soulmate. After two years of close friendship - close putting it mildly, they did nearly everything together, knew each other better than they had known anyone else in their lives - she couldn't take waiting around anymore. Waiting for him to realize everything he seemed to want had been literally right next to him for years. Finally, she took matters into her own hands and confessed her feelings for him.
In the end, she almost wishes she hadn't. Weeks later that friendship crumbled. He had told her that he loved her too, he just wasn't in love with her. Within the year, Emma had run. Had run to Florida, had run to her escapism and less than two years later, she had a degree and an expanding waistline to show for it.
And there lies her daunting climb. It took her awhile, but rejection after rejection from job after job had her fed up. She was sick of people barely looking her over, sick of being rejected in favor of the hot chick that would probably give their bosses great benefits. After a few cases of public embarrassment - Emma had fallen a few times, her body still trying to figure out how to operate under its new weight - she sought out a professional.
Enter Killian. She had been with her personal trainer for a week when she first met him. She had been a few minutes early to her session when she opened the door to the small studio apartment sized space. And there, in all his glory, was Killian Jones.
Over the weeks and months, they would bump into each other every Wednesday and Saturday. It didn't take long for her to overhear him talking to their trainer about animation. It took little to connect the dots that the animator client her trainer would talk about was him.
Emma looked over at Killian, admiring his stubble covered jawline. It made her smirk internally. She could remember the first time she had run into him coming out of his session with a clean shaven face. She had giggled at the sight of him, to which he took slight offense. After assuring him 'it's just different', she can't recall ever seeing him clean shaven again.
"What do you say, Swan?"
"Huh?" She had been lost in thought, in contemplation. Would this work?
He finally unbuckled himself from the passenger seat and motioned towards the house. Emma sighed and nodded, shutting the car off and readying herself.
They make quick work of the short, steep driveway. Bright white Christmas lights lay draped over the bushes lining the walkway to the front door. At the sight of the red ribbon accentuated wreath adorning the door, Emma's blood runs cold. Her heart nearly stops in her chest and - as if some unknown entity had a firm grip on it - she stops dead in her tracks.
She's bumped from behind, firm hands reaching out to grip her elbows in surprise, "Swan?"
She doesn't answer, just continues to stare at the door.
"Emma, is everyth- "
"What am I doing?" It's nearly a whisper. "This was so stupid of me. Why am I even doing this? It's not like they're gonna buy this bullshit! I can't do this!" She was borderline hysterical, all the while keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "They'll find us out and it'll just be one more thing they can hold over my head for the rest of their lives." Emma is wringing her ungloved hands together, expelling what she could of her nervous energy. And then suddenly, she threw them up and turned to face him. "We didn't even bother to come up with a story! Who goes through all of this and doesn't even have one discussion about the story they're gonna be feeding people." Her fingers rub furiously at her forehead, she was beyond exasperated at the situation she had knowingly and willingly gotten herself into. It had been her goddamn idea in the first place! "Ugh! You know, you really don- "
"But we're here now."
For the first time, Emma takes a lasting breath and realizes that Killian had managed to maneuver her along the walkway while she rambled. Her eyes blew wide. Sudden, impending doom was upon her.
"And as for our story," his warm, rich voice pulled her back to him, "I don't think there's anything wrong with the one we've got." There was a twinkle in his eye and an air of something Emma couldn't quite put her finger on. "We met through our trainer. Your session was always after mine and of course you were hard pressed to fight off the advances of this devilishly handsome sweaty pig."
His teasing grin lifted one corner of his mouth higher than the other.
"So," gesturing to the door, "do we ring or - "
"Enough people are here. We can just go in."
"After you, milady." Killian gently prodded her forward. Reaching out, Emma gripped the door handle and instantly reached back to grasp Killian's gloved fingers.