From Afar

Killian Jones was everything she wanted. Tall. Black hair. Stunning blue eyes. A cheeky little grin that made her heart melt.

He wasn't a genius, but he was smart enough to keep up in conversations with her. Conversations where he'd only ever call her "Swan".

Well. The few they had.

The problem was that he was liked by everyone. He was a part of that group. He got along with all the guys. He flirted with all the girls. But he never flirted back with her. Because he didn't see her. At least not the way she wanted him to.

She was awkward. Loud with a looming silence hanging around her. A bright girl with a thousand ideas, but who would only ever say a few. She could count the people she could completely trusted on one hand, because the last time she blindly trusted someone, he stole her heart, crushed it right front of her, and thought everything could be fixed with kind words and a kiss. And after having been abandoned by everyone who was supposed to stand by her and love her until the end of time, who could blame her.

Emma Swan was stunningly beautiful. Shimmering, feather-soft blond hair that hid a beautiful face. Smart, piercing green eyes that were constantly analyzing everything and unlocking every secret they could, but still guarding everything dark secret within herself.

Plenty of people liked her. But she didn't always like them. They were too loud. Too easily manipulated. Too naive. Too gullible. Too worried about what everyone thought of them. Too dependent. It was painful to watch.

She knew what all Killian's classes were. It wasn't because she stalked him. She was just a little more perceptive than most people one would usually find in an over-crowded high-school full of dead-eyed and lifeless students.

Except for him. Even after six hours of school, and knowing he had a two-hour practice in 30 minutes, he was still able to keep the life inside of him. They were a perfect window into his heart. Into a personality that could go from acting like a child to coming off as a thousand year old man in a heartbeat.

It was English class where they met. English class where she was reminded that she would never find anybody as perfect as him who could love her in spite of her broken heart, and all her flaws and protective walls.

It was his childishness that drew her to him. If anything, it was a reminder that not everybody was as fucked up she was. It used to hurt knowing that she hadn't been as fortunate everyone else. But then made her happy to know that there were actually good, kind, encouraging, loving parents out there. It gave her hope for her own future as a parent. Not that it could banish her lingering thoughts that she'd do to her child what her parents did to her. Or didn't do. Those are the thoughts that would follow her forever.

In class, he would do something silly that made her giggle, and he'd turn around in his seat to look at her, and his smile would grow ever more, and her blush would become even more prominent.

Five months. Five months of hell at the house. Hell from the asshats at school who made fun of her for being something uniquely, amazingly different. Five months of asking why she still suffered every day. And let's not forget those four days when she saw Neal again and he tried to play everything off as okay between the two of them. If anyone were to read the notebooks hidden all around her room, they would find the words "damaged/broken beyond repair" everywhere.

But then there was English class. The class where she would get a shy smile from a confident guy who was simultaneously breaking and fixing her heart.

And then a new day would begin. Leaving the house in tears, and coming to school to watch him flirt with all the girls in that group, while she made her way to her small group of friends, or up to the math room so she could keep her GPA up to run away to a new school. To a new life.

She would always listen to the stories of the boy who would fall in love with the girl and love her from a distance. But she would never hear the story of the girl loving a boy from the distance. Because in those stories, whenever the "socially awkward unpopular" (as all female teenage fictional writers write their protagonists) girl in the cute clothes with the perfect make-up and hair (please, as if a socially awkward unpopular girl would dress like that) has a crush on the popular boy, he always asks her out on a date a few weeks later, telling her he's been madly in love with her for years.

Emma was well aware that life didn't work that way. She had once fallen for Graham, but the day he told her he felt the same, he and his family left.

When she met Walsh, he pursued her until she finally said yes to a date. But her foster parents at the time decided to go out every time she made plans with him, asking her to babysit their four year old son who pulled her hair and hid her homework. And eventually Walsh gave up too. Met Zelena. And they've been inseparable ever since.

Neal was the only exception. At the age of 14, meeting a cute boy who was actually interested in her wasn't something she was going to pass up on! But when her walls came back up and she let him go, he made a show of how he had moved on the next time they saw each other, and came to her with his relationship problems when he said he had kissed the camp slut while still dating another girl back home. When that problem went away, the kind words came, followed by a kiss. A first kiss. And Emma knew it wasn't love. Since then, he became the man choosing to travel the rocky road miles beneath the earth. Because taking the high road in yet another argument he started was just too hard.

Emma Swan never believed in true love. Or love at all for that matter. When she was little, she would watch movies with princesses being awoken by their true loves, and walk away with a fuzzy feeling inside. But as she got older, the fuzzy feeling died, and she realized at the age of 15 (an age much too young to have been through so much pain to know this), that love didn't exist.

Yet she still fell. Time after time with a new guy she could never have. Eventually she stopped noticing. But that fateful September day at 2:30 in a stuffy classroom, she started to notice again. Killian Jones. The boy with the blue eyes hidden by a mess of black hair. The boy who made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. It was infuriating.

But like every other time in her life, it faded. He became just another face she tried her best to ignore. She would giggle. He would smile. But it didn't do anything to her anymore.

Until he talked to the lonely kid everyone else (but Emma) ignored. August was a little kid living in the same home as Emma. He was 6 years younger than her, and went to the elementary school up the road. So every day after school, he would walk to her school, and sit outside her class until it was over before they would get picked up. Everyone one in the class knew Gus (Emma's teacher was nice and would let him come in when everyone started leaving), but none of them talked to him. And he didn't try to talk to them either. He was like every other foster kid. Quiet. Sad. And scared.

That day, Emma had a few last minute things to check up on before her essay the next day. That day, Killian went outside and sat down with Gus, and talked to him about his day. When Emma left the class, he stood up, said bye with that stupid grin of his, and went home.

That day, Emma fell all over again. Harder than she ever had before.

Two weeks alone. Two weeks spent stressing over a class she knew she could ace but still worried her. Two weeks of convincing herself that she hadn't fallen for him again. She couldn't. To avoid getting hurt, you had to keep everyone at an arm's length, and falling in love was exactly what you weren't supposed to do if you wanted to keep your heart safe.

But two weeks and three days later, it was impossible to deny anymore.

Then there was a month in class. Celebrating because the semester was almost over, but dying a little bit inside each time she realized how much closer she was to losing that small ray of sun in her life. She didn't know if they had any classes together in the next semester. Besides, how do you ask somebody like Killian Jones what their classes are without coming off like a stalker?

The last week of class passed by. And it was very uneventful. For the most part.

Monday, Emma had a conversation with him about post-secondary. His goals for school were more ambitious than she would've thought.

Tuesday, they didn't speak at all. Like every day, she got that small grin that sent butterflies a flight in her gut, but that was it.

Wednesday, they wrote an essay, so nothing happened there.

Thursday, the first day for their final exam. Nothing. Again.

Friday, she finished the last part of their final early, but couldn't leave since Gus had track practice after school and wouldn't be there until almost 4.

So she sat at her desk. And she waited. And eventually, everyone had left.

At 3:45, she decided to go wait for Gus outside. She bid farewell to her teacher, and left to her locker.

But sitting at the foot of her locker, sat a tall boy with jeans, a black t-shirt, and black combat boots. He had black hair. And the brightest blue eyes imaginable.

"Swan," he said standing up. That grin. That small, annoying grin that had become such a wonderful thing to see.

"Killian," she said, trying to sound as cool and relaxed as he did.

He loomed over her, in an almost protective way. She glanced down at his hand, and saw them shaking slightly before he shoved them in his pockets. Looks like I'm not the only one who's nervous...

"So," he said. Emma could hear the slight nervous warble in his voice. "One week off, huh."

"Yeah,"

"Any plans,"

"Well, Ruby and I are going to hang out a bit, and I'm dropping by Belle's house on Friday." Emma said. Why does he care...And since when do we talk about anything other than English or other school work?

"What about Thursday?"

"Probably just another day at home with Gus," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you think Gus would mind if I stole his beautiful sister for a couple of hours to go get some coffee," he said casually. "Or should I ask the little man first?"

"I... We're..." Emma stuttered, stunned at what was happening.

That simple question broke down her walls faster than they had ever come down before. Even faster than Neal had brought them down, and that had still taken him several days.

As she continued to stutter, she could feel her walls start to come back up. Falling in love is exactly what you aren't supposed to do if you want to keep your heart safe.

But falling in love is what you're supposed to do when he gives you butterflies and treats you the way you should be.

"No," Emma said, feeling the blood rushing up to her cheeks. "No I'm sure he'll be fine with it. Just let me ask Ingrid and I'll get back to you later tonight."

"Really?" Killian said in surprise. "I mean – yeah. That'd be great. Here's my number. Call me." He gave her a paper with his number on it.

"I'm looking forward to hearing from you," he said quietly.

He leaned in even closer. So close, she feel his breathe on her cheek and see herself reflected in his eyes.

"Emma."