Killian had tried so hard to make their first date one worth remembering, one worth waiting for, and yet it had all gone so immensely wrong. The hand had corrupted him, or so he'd thought, but in the end he'd allowed his own corruption and proven his hidden unworthiness to himself. Emma would never know, need never know, but the memory ate away at him and left him guilty, left him angry at his own actions. He'd had flowers, he'd dressed up, he'd taken them to the fanciest restaurant he could find in Storybrooke, but for nothing.
And still, she'd kissed him when he'd expected the most awkward of goodbyes. It was a confounding thing, but he didn't dare take it for granted, and so he knew that their next date would go far better. He'd take her to the theater to watch a new movie coming out, or go to one of those forest paths Charming was always suggesting, or even cook food for her at his new apartment. He'd have to learn how to, of course, but he was confident he could impress her with his future culinary skills.
Yes, Killian was certain that their second date would be the best of her life.
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