It was the chill of the night. Or maybe it was the seductive allure of the possibility of feeling anything. The chance for the perpetual numbness to simply dissipate and become part of the dark night rather than her heart.

Emma sighed. She ran her hands down either side of her body, flattening the wrinkles in her black, skin tight dress. She pursed her red lips together and watched the scene unfold in front of her. The promise of a great night with a handsome man named had brought her here. But the twisted metal in front of her kept her here.

It was the time before she knew who she was. A time where she lived a simple existence sustaining herself on bounty hunting and hope. She didn't yet know fairy tales were real or that she is the product of true love. She hadn't yet discovered the magic brewing inside her. She didn't yet know that somewhere out there were her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, trapped in a curse, unable to remember her or themselves. And her parents couldn't have known that their daughter lived a lonely life, closed off from the world and even herself.

Despite the cool breeze that accompanied early autumn in Boston, Emma chose the sexy dress and red pumps to impress her date, a man who turned out to be a pig. She had long since filed him in the back of her mind along with her aching feet and cold skin. She said yes to the mysterious stranger on a whim. He was the tall, dark, and handsome type with a good job and a seemingly great personality to match. It was all a facade though as Emma came to realize. Although broken, she wouldn't allow anybody to treat her the way he had. She had long since shooed him away but found herself in a much more precarious situation. The scared child and unwanted teenager had surfaced. She had withdrawn into herself again, something she thought she had grown out of.

Emma had fled the fine dining restaurant just an hour ago. She only attended on the insistence of her date. But after she realized that she wanted nothing to do with the handsome stranger, she went across the street to the bar, sulking and throwing back a few shots. By the time she decided to leave, her nervous system had taken a hit as she was beginning to feel the desired effects of the liquor. Stumbling out of the bar with her heels in her hand, Emma had begun the walk of shame back to her flat. A handsome man with green eyes had offered her his assistance, but she quickly turned him down, refusing to allow another handsome stranger to make empty promises.

She was by herself as she walked home, something she was used to. She had decided to give in to the effects of the liquor rumbling around in her empty stomach. (Her date ended before the food came.) She was careless on her way home, zigzagging about the thin sidewalk. Her head bobbed carelessly on her shoulders as the ringlets in her hair she spent a great deal of time on fell flat and whipped in the breeze. She didn't pay attention to her surroundings. Instead she allowed her mind to race. She focused on the empty feeling within her, her numbness now seeping from her heart and into her soul.

The alcohol was surging through Emma's veins, affecting her balance, vision, and inhibitions. But most of all, it affected her judgment. She should have taken a cab back home. She could have been home by now, washing this day off in a bubble bath. Instead she stumbled down a vacant street towards home. She was alone. She was full of alcohol and sorrow. She didn't know it, but she was grieving the life she should of had with loving parents. The loss of a happy home.

Emma took a deep breath. She slowed her pace and closed her eyes. She wanted to feel her bare feet against the cold concrete, the breeze against her skin, the clothes against her body, She wanted to feel so she closed her eyes. She allowed her body to relax, to give in to the liquor. She focused on the fuzzy feeling only alcohol could give her. She felt light and free. Her loneliness melted away. She tilted her head towards the sky, breathing deeper. She felt the cold autumn air fill her lungs. And in the moment a small smile played on her lips.

But in the end, the alcohol won.

Closing her eyes threw Emma's balance off that much more. She stumbled off the thin sidewalk and off the curb. She fell into the street, landing hard on her right side. Her shoes flew out of her hand and rested a few feet away. Although bruised and sore, she was okay. It took a few moments to gather her thoughts. Perhaps it was a moment too long. She didn't see the car barreling down the street until its headlights blinded her. It was coming right at her. Gasping in fear and shock, Emma tried to stumble to her feet, but the alcohol slowed her movements.

In a panic, the driver of the car pressed on the horn and slammed the brakes. But it was too late. He couldn't stop in time to avoid hitting the blonde woman in the middle of the street. Sacrificing his own safety, the driver veered the steering wheel hard to the left causing the car to lunge.. With a sickening sound of twisted metal, the car crashed into the building across the street.

Emma stared at the wreckage until her pupils were able to focus on it. The car no longer took the shape of a car. Instead it was a pile of scrap metal. The horn seemed to have been saved during the crash as it was now wailing, the sound cutting through the otherwise peaceful night. She finally managed to stumble to her feet. Frozen in fear, everything melted away except the pile of metal before her. Smoke billowed up from the hood and dissipated into the street was dark except for a few widely spaced street car had come to rest in such a way that the light from a street lamp caught the wreckage perfectly in its artificial rays, giving Emma a clear view of the driver's side.

The site was sobering.

The driver leaned against the steering wheel with his arms hanging by his side. His once brown hair was matted with blood which poured from a gash in his head, flowed over his right eye and down his chin before dripping on the floor. Emma took in his features. He had a tiny scar just below his hairline on the left side of his forehead. A flash of recognition washed over Emma, and it took a little bit for her to place it. It was Harrison, the man who she had a date with, who she saw just a few hours ago.

With a debilitating paralysis that left her muscles tense and unmoving, the only thing Emma could do was stare. She took a sharp inhale of air before gulping it down. She finally willed her muscles to move, but the only thing she could manage was sliding her arms down her sides as if calming the wrinkles in her dress. Her drunken mind couldn't think straight, but an array of racing thoughts flashed through her mind. Just for a moment, she thought about running.

"Are you okay?"

Snapping back to reality, Emma twisted her head towards the direction of the voice. She immediately recognized the owner of the voice as the handsome man in the bar. Her shoulders drooped even more so than they already were. The last handsome stranger she met tonight currently laid in the middle of a pile of wreckage before her. She finally moved her feet and faced the stranger. "Call for help," she pleaded

"I already did," he responded. He stopped just a few feet away from Emma, reading her face before deciding if he should approach her further.

Emma let her posture fall along with the tension that had build up. She pulled the corners of her mouth upwards in what was supposed to be a smile but instead turned out to be faint.

The man then veered sharply towards the car just as the shrill sound of sirens appeared in the background. He felt for a pulse. Feeling a faint one, he called for Emma to help him.

This time Emma didn't hesitate. She quickly jumped in to help pry the driver's door open.

"Be careful not to move his head too much," the man warned as he and Emma carried him from the wreckage. Once on the ground, he began tapping the man's shoulder. "Hey," he said. He began to shake him, but still the victim didn't respond. He quickly leaned forward to listen for breath sounds. He looked up at Emma. "We have to give him CPR. Breath into his mouth when I tell you."

Emma got on her knees, kneeling next to Harrison's head. "His name is Harrison," she said. It felt like hours but must have been no more than a few minutes before the ambulance pulled up. Both she and the stranger backed up to allow the paramedics to work. Panting hard with both adrenaline and exhaustion, Emma stole a glance of the man beside her before grabbing onto his shoulder to keep her balance. Embarrassed, Emma quickly retracted her hand.

The stranger smiled. "My name is Killian Jones." He offered Emma his hand.

XOXO

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