The title is my favourite quote of all time. Just a little ficlet about Emma and Killian's pasts.

…

Stay Curious

…

"Do you ever think about her?" Emma's fingers glide over Killian's tattooed wrist as she lies back against his chest on their bed. There's not a hint of jealousy in her voice, just pure curiosity, and he reminds himself, yet again, how lucky he is to have this woman in his life.

"Aye, sometimes," he answers honestly. It's not as though it's a secret that he'd spent over three centuries trying to avenge his dear Milah, of course his thoughts still glance towards her through dreams or when his mind is unfocused and unguarded. But it's no longer notions of a romance lost that linger but a more peaceful remembrance of a beautiful woman who was strong enough to follow her dreams.

Emma rests Killian's hand down on her stomach, curling further into his warmth, "What was she like?"

Again, that intense curiosity and his heart clenches at her softness.

"She was an adventurer who was unsettled in her choices to keep her feet on the ground. Someone who wanted more for herself and wasn't afraid to reach out and take it," Emma smiles at that, listening to her pirate's voice and lacing their fingers together. "But there was a darkness within her, something she would rarely speak of, a yearning for her boy, for Baelfire. She was relentless and reckless in her ambition to return for him and, in the end, that was her downfall."

It was beautifully tragic told from the lips of an aged pirate and Emma hopes that one day he'll talk of her with such reverence and pride. And more than that, she hopes that she will still be around to hear it.

"She sounds like a true pirate," she whispers, hoping it's the right thing to say.

He raises their joined hands to his lips and presses his lips against her knuckles, "Aye, taken from this world before she became legend."

The silence that follows Killian's words is comfortable, both of them lost in thought. It's a few minutes later that Emma realises Killian's fingers are stroking across the shoelace on her wrist and wonders if he knows the significance of it.

She puts her hand atop his, moving along with his caresses, and turns her head up, pressing her lips against his jaw.

"His name was Graham," she begins, the rawness of saying his name out loud for the first time in years pulling at a small tear in her heart that will never completely heal over. "He was here when I first arrived, when no one knew who they were. But he remembered first. He believed in himself when no one else did." She pauses, regret clenching its ugly fist in her stomach, "When I didn't."

Killian lets his kisses fall along Emma's hairline, "What happened to him?"

Her hand curls around his a little tighter, "He was killed. His heart was crushed by Regina out of malice and jealousy."

He doesn't need to speak – the way he pulls her against him, protecting her from anything that might come for them says it all. It's amazing to think how lucky she's gotten with him, how wonderful he is to her.

"You know," she starts quietly, "Graham was the first person in a long time who I was willing to open up to a little. And I honestly thought I would never have that with anyone else again." She turns around in his arms, shifting so that she is sure he can see her eyes when she speaks next, "That is, until I met you."

There's an electricity in the air at her words, the honesty and the revelations hanging between them, the similarities in their pasts another thread holding them together in a delicate tapestry of their dedication to one another.

When he kisses her she swears she hears the spark, feels the fire. It's tangible and passionate and makes her head spin with the beauty of it all. This is where she's meant to be, this is where he's meant to be.

They've never been more sure.

…

It's later, when they're both sated and she's pretty sure her pirate is nodding off into sleep, that Emma slips out of bed and opens up the small jewellery box she keeps in her bathroom. When she peels the shoelace from her wrist it feels weird at first – cold and bare. But Killian is soon there behind her, roused from his almost sleep by her late night wanderings, fingers easily wrapping around her wrist and bringing it to his lips.

"You don't have to do this, lass," he says quietly, "I can't rid myself of my reminder."

She leans into his touch, their bodies still naked and vulnerable, yet so strong together. "It's okay," she starts, pressing her lips to his and closing the jewellery box to her side. "I know it's my name written across your heart."

He smiles because he knows it too.

And together, they take a step forward.

…

Thoughts?