Like a Mirror
Sunglow hair lashes out against the breeze like a golden cape at her collar. Her palms stiffen, long fingers spreading out as far as the bones will allow. She flicks her wrists irritably and he can hear the joints click. He wouldn't be surprised if her neck and shoulders require the same attention.
Cherry leather, dark denim, knee high riding boots, set stance. Her form practically crackles with tension, restlessness contained by the sheer force of her will. She remains soundless but the quick blinking of her lids displays her inner struggle.
Killian's presence has gone unnoticed and he's hesitant to startle her by moving too quickly. He can expect a rather unfavorable response if he does.
However, if she is to let go, he desires it to be with him.
In that moment, Storybrooke's savior turns. She absentmindedly pulls a piece of hair loose from the corner of her mouth, licking her lips.
He wordlessly ambles over, stopping only when his coat grazes hers and his quiet assessment is her undoing. Eyes mist over with tears and her chin begins to quiver. Her whole body drops.
And like a mirror, she shatters in his arms.