It was a quiet night. Too quiet for Emma's liking. She had grown accustomed to having a television sounding in the background or Henry talking in his sleep or construction noises on the streets in New York or someone outside her room discussing whatever antics were going on in Storybrooke at the time, although most of those conversations she had actually been a part of. But now, this late at night, the silence had overtaken the town. The rooms at Granny's did not include TVs, Henry was staying with Regina after…the incident (per his request), there was no construction she knew of happening in the tiny fairy tale town, and the most recent antics of Zelena had been put to rest, which was one thing Emma didn't mind silence resulting from.

Even so, the stillness was almost deafening. She was being engulfed by it and her mind was swarming with thoughts and worries about things that were pointless to worry about in the first place. She still worried for her family, which was a constant habit of hers that she knew she would never break. She had recently begun to worry about her relationship, still young and budding. And the guilt. God the guilt. It was overwhelming. Killian would always tell her that she did the right thing. He would never say "I told you so" to her face but she knew that's what he was thinking. Regina wouldn't talk to her, and she figured it was probably a good thing, given that if she did she most likely wouldn't be breathing for long after.

"You saved an innocent woman", Killian's voice echoed in her mind, only to be countered by her own; You changed history. You ruined Regina's happy ending. You caused this. YOU! YOU! YOU!

The accusations made her crumble, even if they were coming from within her. No one said anything to her about it, for it was a tender topic of discussion, everyone terrified that Regina would overhear.

Ever since she had gotten back from the past with Hook, she had been restless, waking up in the middle of the night sweating, tears that she doesn't remember shedding streaked down her face after being forced to watch her mother die over and over again in her nightmares. Sometimes she would lie and stare at the ceiling, trying to recall what life had been like before Henry had come and found her. She used to revel in her past, only seeing the simplicity in her life before and wanting to return to it; just to get away from all the complication and danger that was constantly presenting itself to them there. But now, looking back, she saw a naïve young woman who had no family to speak of and who was hostile because of her childhood. She never wanted to go back to that. She had a home now. And most importantly, a family.

But that night, it was silent. She didn't even trust her thoughts to roam free in the air. Tossing the comforter off her body, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and wedged her slippers onto her feet, trudging to the door of her room.

In the hallway, she breathed in the lingering smell of the diner, the scent of coffee beans just ready to be roasted wafting from the kitchens and taunting her senses. She saw a streetlamp from outside, illuminating the Storybrooke mural on the side of the wall. It was small things like this that made her love this town. It was cozy, intimate. There was always something there to remind her that she had a place where she belonged.

The sound of muffled voices on a television snapped her out of her musing. It was coming from the living area, the one place in Granny's that housed a TV. Making her way sleepily down the corridor, she wondered who would be up at this hour. She only knew one other person who enjoyed the late hours of the night as much as she did, and she didn't think he knew what a TV was, let alone how to function one.

Much to her surprise, she entered the room to find Killian kneeling in front of the box, which rested on a small table in the corner. He was poking at it curiously with his index finger, looking entranced and terrified at the same time, a scowl positioned on his face.

Emma cleared her throat while trying to hide a chuckle, knowing how he wasn't fond of her laughing at his misunderstanding of modern day technology. She was already strutting towards the sofa as he turned his head, smiling when he saw her.

"I have to say, I am surprised that you managed to figure out how to turn the TV on…" Emma started with a leer of her own, Killian removing himself from his spot on the ground and strolling towards her slowly.

"I am quite intelligent, if you hadn't noticed…but I mustn't tell a lie. I merely pressed a button on your strange rectangular contraption and then the square in the corner simply lit up. Would you care to explain?" he coaxed, joining her on the couch.

They were sitting on opposite ends, emerald and blue staring daggers at each other before Emma decided to speak again. "It's called a television. It's a type of entertainment system in this realm. I should introduce you to some of my favorite shows sometime."

Killian hummed in reply, taking his eyes off hers for a brief moment to glance back at the screen, which was currently playing reruns of Friends.

"So," Emma began, "why are you awake?"

Killian sighed and took her by the wrists, sliding his fingers down her palms before intertwining them with hers. "A sailor has many late nights out on the high seas. It is not uncommon for one to be up late in the night while others are overtaken by slumber."

The way he spoke always sent chills down Emma's entire body. It wasn't just the words he used, chivalrous and traditional, but it was the way he said them; how his tone was deep as if meant to be a whisper so that only she could hear them. She often detected these things when he was in the midst of seducing her, but now his voice was laced with a soothing quality.

Moving his thumb gently along her wrist, he continued. "I'm more concerned about why you're awake. You don't think I notice when you're writhing in your sleep, do you? I worry for you, Emma. Every night. What's wrong, love?"

He held open his arms and she willingly sunk into his touch, head resting on his chest and his arm draped over her, grasping her shoulder tightly. She took the opportunity to breathe in his scent. He smelled like her perfume, left from their many nights of lying in each other's embrace.

She closed her eyes, knowing that in his arms was the only place she was going to be able to find sleep that night.

"It's the guilt. It's all I can think about. It overtakes me." Pause. "And of course, the usual nightmares about my mother burning."

She could feel his fingers caressing her arm, up and down, up and down. His breathing was steady and he waited a long while before speaking, not wanting to break the calm hush in the air.

"The nightmares will pass overtime, my love. But this guilt you feel…only you can make it stop. Regina would have been in a lot worse of a position had Robin found out that he was in love with his wife's murderer, believe me. I know it's difficult to see now, but you helped them in a way. Don't blame yourself, lass. I hate to see you so broken up."

Her muscles were still tense in his hold. Killian leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her temple, barely pulling away before speaking quietly against her face. "Are you even further burdened, Emma?"

A single tear made its way down her cheek, falling onto his arm. "You."

"Me?" he questioned her, not raising his tone or moving.

"You gave up your home for me. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve yo-"

Killian moved his lips from her temple to her mouth, capturing it with his own and tasting every inch of it, thumb moving across her face, removing the tears from it, reminding her yet again of their days in the past with nothing but each other to hold on to.

He reluctantly pulled apart, resting his nose against hers, mingling their breaths together.

"You deserve every bit of this and more. You made an unloving man love again. You turned a villain into a hero. And do you know what?"

Emma's tears were now falling steadily down her face, Killian still catching them as they fell. "What?" she choked out.

"I would do every bit of it again if it meant ending up here in this moment with you," he whispered against her lips.

His hands came up to entwine in her golden locks, relishing in the beauty of what he had admired from afar for so long. Holding onto the woman he had loved in secret for so long. Pressing his lips to the lips he had dreamt of for so long.

If there was anyone who was undeserving of love in their relationship, it was him. He had burdens on his chest. More than she could ever imagine. But he was not going to be like her, pulling away from the affection she had earned.

So he lay with her, lips on lips and limbs intertwined, hands exploring every inch of their bodies until she had drifted off into a peaceful slumber. And he stroked her skin. And he kissed her hair. And he savored the love he had waited for so long.

Hey guys! So this is basically what comes out of me being bored and sitting in front of a computer at 10 pm. It's just a random little oneshot that was inspired by something I saw on tumblr. Hope this will hold you all over until I can update Moving In xxx

Reviews always welcome (of course). Have a fabulous rest of the week!

~Sky