A/N: a little christmas/winter captain swan oneshot because Alana/ kiliansemma on tumblr asked me to write a cs proposal scenario! So this is for you Alana!
Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT. I know, I'm bummed about it too.
Killian would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous as hell. He's travelled the seven seas, seen more danger and faced death more times than he can count. But when it comes to Emma Swan, and asking if she'd do him the honors of spending the rest of her life with him (which, with his track record, will be a very long time), he is downright terrified.
With shaking hands, he struggles to raise the cup of his coffee without dumping the whole thing down his front, and he swallows it, sighing as the liquid cleanses his parched throat. He's grateful Emma is too distracted with her calling contraption to notice his distressed state. She's sitting across from him at Granny's, chewing on something she calls fries (which still confuses him greatly how a potato can look like that), and he can't help but smile, nerves forgotten for a moment.
Her beauty in normal moments like these leaves him breathless.
Hell, her beauty in any moment leaves him breathless.
Okay, no more distractions. He can do this. He has the perfect ring, her father gave him his permission, and he has his speech memorized from beginning to end. He just needs to get her to the location.
He clears his throat, hoping his quivering voice doesn't raise any suspicions.
"Emma, love," he asks quietly, hand reaching across the table to rest on her arm. She looks up at him then, her eyes sparkling and her mouth stretching into a divine smile.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
Smile slipping, she raises an eyebrow at him, fingers dropping any fries she has in her hand to wipe the salty remains on her jeans.
"It's snowing outside," she protests, raising her hand to gesture to the window behind him, and he turns, swearing silently. The windows are foggy but he can see large snowflakes falling heavily, quickly covering every surface it can find. There goes his plan for a proposal by the docks.
No, they're had every obstacle thrown at them over their two years together, he's sure they can handle a little snow.
He turns back to her with teasing smile settled on his face and his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.
"Is Emma Swan afraid of a little snow?"
This did the trick. Before he could even reach for his jacket, Emma has her fingers shoved into a pair of gloves, her beanie messily thrown on her head and her coat zipped up to her neck.
"Okay fine, let's go."
As both of them stand, they hear the shout of Emma's mother who is sitting across the room with David, both failing miserably at pretending they're not watching them.
"Are you guys leaving?" Snow calls out, her face appearing over the top of her menu.
"Yeah, just going for a walk," Killian replies, shooting them both a look. David nods and winks but Snow isn't so nonchalant. She strides over and envelopes Emma in a hug, squeezing her tight.
"My little girl," Snow murmurs into Emma's hair, and Emma pulls back quickly, eyes wide in alarm.
"Mom, are you crying?"
Oh bloody hell.
Before Snow can reply, Killian tugs at Emma's arm, pulling her from her mother's embrace and pushing her in the direction of the door.
"Come on love, she's fine."
Emma glances back towards Snow for reassurance but she waves her off with a tearful smile.
"I'm okay, have fun on your walk!"
Hesitantly, Emma turns back to Killian, who has moved from her side to open the door, and is patiently waiting.
Always patiently waiting.
With a smile, she slips out the door and shivers as the cold hits her, seeping through her coat and chilling her bones.
She seeks warmth from the man next to her, who moves to walk on the side where he can hold her hand. They intertwine their fingers together and she presses herself as close to him as possible.
It's picturesquely beautiful on the streets of Storybrooke. The colorful, glowing lights that wrap around street posts and the edges of buildings is a stark contrast to the winter wonderland they've found themselves in. As their feet crunch along the sidewalk, the snow slows down to a light flurry, and Emma watches in awe as flakes land on her outstretched hand, and dissolve into her glove. She glances up at Killian then to see he is watching her with so much love and adoration it makes her feel like her entire body is on fire.
His love has always ignited her, made her feel whole, beautiful, alive and she's never felt so special in her life.
Unable to resist, she stops and pulls at his hand, bringing him to face her straight on. His eyes, bright and questioning, peer down at her and for a moment she watches as his eyelashes catch the falling snow.
Beautiful, he's so beautiful.
And her's.
All her's.
With a blissful smile, she brings the hand that isn't gently holding his, up to his cheek to brush away the flakes that have settled there, and rests it softly. She feels the warmth from his breath caressing her face, her eyes falling shut from the relieve it brings from the biting cold air.
"Killian." She whispers his name, her voice coming out breathy and tremulous as she brings his face down to hers to press her lips to his. It's gentle, loving, warm.
And then it's frantic, desperate, hot.
Her hands move to slide around to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair, tugging it lustfully, pulling him closer to her at the same time with a groan. She can feel his hook dig into her back, and she gasps, giving him the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving to lick her bottom lip before flicking teasingly against her own.
He's everywhere and she's getting dizzy, breathless, foggy with desire. She should care they're making out in the middle of town, on display for anyone passing by, but she can't bring herself to stop.
But eventually, inevitably, they run out of air and he moves his lips from hers to trail along her jaw, his heavy breathing tickling her neck as he settles there for a moment.
"Wow," he gasps and her body erupts in giggles.
"I know."
They stay like that for a few minutes, his arms wrapped around her, her hands stroking his hair and his head buried in hers, the intimacy and quietness helping in slowing her pounding heart.
"I love you," he breathes, moving from her neck to face her, his eyes gleaming with tears and her breath catches in her throat. Moving her fingers from his hair, she cups his cheeks, thumbs rubbing comfortingly against his face.
"I love you too," she replies softly, her voice low and assuring.
Again, she leaves him amazed. God he loves her. He loves her so much. He can't wait until they get to the docks, he wants to do it now. Here. In the middle of town. The town where she found happiness, family and most importantly, love. Taking a deep breath to calm his dancing heart, he speaks before he loses his nerve.
"Good, because I want to ask you something."
And then he kneels down.
"Emma Swan, I meant it when I said I'd go to the ends of the earth for you, because I don't want to be anywhere but next to you. Wherever you are. So," he pauses to fish for the ring that is nestled within his jacket pocket, and pops the lid, "will you marry me?
The loss, pain and loneliness he experienced over the past hundreds of years is erased with one beautiful, magnificent word. She says it as he slides the ring on her finger, and again in his neck as he pulls her into him. Then finally against his lips, where he can taste her tears.
"Yes."