AN: Just a little one-shot based on the proposal. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
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Will was looking for his pocket square again, searching through drawers and suit pockets, when he found her engagement ring in the front corner of their wardrobe.
He couldn't help but to lift the lid of the small velvet box. The most beautiful engagement ring Will had ever seen was wedged neatly in a bed of black satin. Tiffany cut. Three large diamonds.
Carl's ring. Emma's engagement ring that belonged to Carl.
Three diamonds sat primly in Carl's silver ring. Each stone was larger than the single diamond in the ring Will had been certain was right for Emma. He had visited the jeweller with Finn the week before, and the simple band had seemed so elegant. And with that certainty in mind, he handed over his credit card.
Now Will's ring seemed so mediocre. In reality, Will could never afford a ring like Carl's. They wouldn't be able to support a family if he spent all of his savings on one ring. And Will couldn't wait to start a family- the one he had dreamed of before he was really allowed to.
Carl could have given her both, Will pondered. The most elegant of engagement rings and an instant family that didn't put a strain on the couple financially.
But Will and Emma were already a family. Deep down, insecurities aside, Will knew that. Without a ring, the church and the dress, they were forever bound to one another. He was certain this time. Just looking at her made Will's body pulse with longing. Soon, it would be time. To marry Emma. To be with Emma.
Still, as Will gazed at the ring in his hands, he realised how important tradition was. They'd done things right this time. They had dated, taken their intimacy very, very slowly. Carl had never given Emma the time that she deserved. And Carl had made a mockery of tradition, a notion that Will knew was important to Emma.
A quickie Vegas wedding.
"Quick engagement, bro," Will mused aloud softly.
"It's my wedding ring, actually."
Will pivoted on the spot to find Emma leaning against the doorframe. Will paled.
Emma gently pushed herself from the doorframe, her features drenched with seriousness.
Oh, God. He'd insulted her.
Emma's voice trembled. "It's the only one I ever kept."
Will stared down at the small box open in his hands and swallowed. It's okay, you're finally getting things right.
Emma padded across the room calmly, and sat on the edge of the bed. Will studied Emma's expression for a moment. She seemed so comfortable, had always seemed so comfortable, in a bedroom Will had once shared with another woman. His ex-wife. But since Will and Emma's first night sleeping together, with red strands on the pillow instead of blonde locks, everything had seemed right; as though every other woman who had slept beside Will in that bed had been there to fill in time as he waited for something greater. But with Emma it was different. It felt like Emma was coming home.
The ring box, a gift from another man, was so foreign in Will's grasp as their eyes met. He gazed at Emma, her eyes wide with curiosity. He placed the ring box on the nightstand and sat beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight.
Emma drew a deep breath. "I gave Ken his engagement ring back."
As they sat upon the mattress, Will could feel the heat radiating from the side of Emma's body, just as he had been warmed every night for the last six months, as they rested beside each other in bed, neither daring to touch the other. Soon. Soon you'll belong to each other as real lovers do.
"We both know that there was never a real chance with Ken," she started. Emma's gaze fell from Will's down to her lap. He watched Emma swallow. "But, I...I kept Carl's ring, because I tried. I really tried, Will."
She turned her gaze to meet Will's.
"I know you did," he whispered.
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It was after SAT prep on Tuesday night that she waited for Will to walk her to her car. She listened outside his office door as he chatted with Holly. Emma's blood ran cold as she listened to Holly easily roll Spanish terms off her tongue, and instantly, Emma's wedding ring felt too tight on her finger.
"I'm sorry that took so long," Will gushed after Holly had left his office and wished goodnight to Emma with a condescending wink. "Holly had a few ideas about songs we could sing to the glee club to help them try to understand...the intricacies of adult relationships."
Emma blushed. "That's okay. I'm going home to an empty house, anyway." Will raised an eyebrow. "Carl's out of town on a business trip," Emma explained.
They walked beside each other in the dark through the parking lot, their steps tapping the gravel in practiced harmony. "Although, I must say that it does go against my duties as overseer of the celibacy club to know that Holly is encouraging such..." Emma swallowed, "...you know."
Sex, Emma. Don't pretend it's so foreign to you, Will's eyes pleaded with a glance her way. Emma was oblivious as she stared ahead. "But I can understand that Holly's just doing her job."
"You didn't seem so understanding when you told me how disappointed you were in me today," Will commented, his gaze fixed on the ground as they reached her car.
"It's been a long day." Emma opened the car door and placed her bag and folder on the backseat. "I've cooled down."
Will chuckled. The bright light from the street lamp lit Emma's hair a light shade of blonde. It was too bright. Everything was wrong.
"Well, while you're not feisty, I want to apologise to you about last week, about Sue playing that message over loudspeaker. I'm sorry, Emma," Will breathed. "I humiliated you."
Emma closed the car door, her toes feeling cramped in the teal Mary Janes she had purchased the weekend before. A shopping spree, a guilty pleasure to take her mind off other matters.
"It's okay, Will. It wasn't your fault." Will watched as Emma caught her bottom lip between her teeth. He stood taller. "Besides, even if I did hear that message- alone- I would have realised you were drunk and didn't mean it."
His stare bore into hers. He pleaded with a look, and begged her for the truth. Emma swallowed.
She could feel the promise of what was to come as soon as Will licked his lips and tilted his head towards her. His lips were on Emma's, warm and wet as they caressed Emma's flesh. She moaned, he pressed her against the side of the car.
Will's tongue slipped against hers, and as Emma trembled at the shock of heat coursing through her body, her hands slid beneath his leather jacket daringly. She began to massage the sides of his torso with her fingertips.
Will stifled a groan. His hands found the curve of Emma's hips, the daintiness of her ribs. He touched her, discovered her body for the first time in a year. Warmth. Love. Pent-up need.
Emma pulled away suddenly, and attempted to put some space between them. She dropped her gaze and wiped at her swollen lips with the back of her hand.
"Just come home with me." He pressed his hips against hers, and Emma's behind softly collided with the driver's door once again. Emma looked down, surprised by the sensation of the bulge, ardently straining against Will's jeans.
"I'm still a virgin," Emma whispered coarsely.
Will sighed sympathetically. Their stare was strong. "We don't have to do anything intimate. I just need to be with you. Maybe...maybe we could hold each other."
He rested his forehead against hers. "Please, Emma." Her body hummed with anticipation. "I'm begging you for just one night." One night wasn't enough. "He would never, ever have to know."A secret. A passion they'd take to their grave. "I need to be alone with you." She could see it, the two of them spooned together on his neatly made bed, resting gently on top of the duvet as Will breathed in Emma's perfume, his face buried in the crook of her neck. "To get over you."
"It won't work," she choked.
"Just...please. One night. Just us." He brushed the fallen strands from her vision. "I can't stop thinking about you."
Her stare was wild, so wide and hungry. No, her conscience scolded. Yes, the insatiable desire teased.
"I'm married, Will," she reminded him. "I never asked you for 'just one night' when you were married."
Will shook his head. "Not with words." His tone was husky, and when he shamefully looked down to his feet, Emma listened to the tears that burned sadly on his cheeks. "You begged every other way that you could." He glanced up, and his cheeks were tear-stained with hope. God. His soulful eyes. "I need to stop loving you, Emma."
Oh, no.
"Then...god, Will. Just stop." Her expression was littered with desperate effort to believe her words. With a palm pressed against his chest, Emma pushed Will away. Her eyes burned with angered confusion. "I want you to stop."
When Emma arrived home, Carl had the table set perfectly for the dinner with her parents they had been planning for weeks. Carl's features were bright and hopeful as he took Emma's coat and gushed how beautiful his wife was. Her husband was beautiful, too, Emma knew. Perhaps more classically beautiful than Will. Dark, handsome, brooding Carl. But the image of Will's desperate stare flashed before Emma's eyes. I need to stop loving you. His words rang through Emma's ears, humming, piercing.
As Carl flashed Emma a toothy grin, his eyes beaming with expectation, Emma didn't know why she lied to Will and told him Carl was out of town. In fact, she wanted to forget that she even tested her willpower.
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"Well, if this is your wedding ring, where's your engagement ring?" Will whispered as Emma stared at the open box on the nightstand.
"I never had one," Emma confessed, her stare settled on the double frame behind the ring box, Will and Emma's school photos gazing over the room.
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"So this is your room key," Carl handed Emma the credit-card sized key. "And this is mine." He slid the other key into his back pocket.
Emma smiled softly, her cheeks coloured pink with guilt.
"And..." he reached into the small envelope which he had taken the other two keys from, "this is an extra key—to my room—in case you change your mind." Carl winked playfully, and placed the card in Emma's open palm, curling her fingers around the plastic like a mould.
"Okay." Her whisper was quiet, withdrawn and childlike.
"It's okay, Emma." Carl's eyes were clouded with pity. "No regrets, right baby?"
Emma nodded and forced a smile.
No regrets, right baby? The question played on Emma's mind. Don't feel guilty, Emma, because I knew what I was getting myself into, the question read. It was as though Carl were telling her that he wouldn't apologise for their quick marriage. No, he didn't mind that they wouldn't be consummating their marriage on their wedding night in the bridal suite at Caesar's Palace. Carl was assuring Emma that he was fine. And it was so sweet of him to not pressure her. But he wasn't asking if she was okay. He was making it known that he could deal with her.
Will would have posed the question differently, was the constant worry on Emma's conscience. Do you regret marrying me? Will would have said. Emma would have had a choice. Yes, I regret marrying you in Vegas, Will. No, Will, I don't regret marrying you. And Emma wouldn't have been caught in a marriage she hadn't considered properly. She would have had a real choice. Not because she was head over heels in love with Will and she just wanted to be with him, but because he would have had the decency to ask, and then listen.
Carl hadn't given her an engagement ring. He hadn't even got down on one knee. He had asked her to marry him at the luggage bay at the airport, after a security officer had ruffled through Emma's suitcase on a routine check, setting her anxiety up a level. Carl had spotted the lingerie Emma had packed as the bored officer searched for anything suspicious, and not ten minutes later, had posed the question by the conveyor belt as they waited for Carl's bag to pop through the chute.
Emma convinced herself that broken tradition was kept her from losing her virginity on her wedding night. If tradition was broken, why did it matter that she had sex with Carl that night? Time hadn't mattered that day. Carl hadn't considered how long it would take Emma to deal with everything, what an engagement meant to her. So why did it matter that just because making love was desired by Carl, that sex was the only important tradition that day?
That night, Emma didn't use the spare key to Carl's room. On her wedding night, all alone in the large king-sized bed, Emma locked her heart with the key labelled security.
Emma could live without passion. She could deal with the dreams of Will's naked body moving against hers, his groans of satisfaction as she cried out his name. She'd be a mother to a child with dark hair instead of light curls. She'd be happy. Her marriage wouldn't be intense and make her heart hammer each time her husband was in the same room as her. But Emma would be happy.
Emma knew that her opposition to go to Carl's hotel room that night was just a valid excuse.
There was the real reason. The only reason.
It was the thought that another person would be inside her body that frightened Emma the most. It wasn't who she was more attracted to that told her it was wrong. It wasn't the thought of Will's intense gaze, or Will's gentle hands. It was plain and simple. The fact that another person would touch her insides, graze her heart with desire. Another person would be one with her. And it would be somebody other than Will.
The next morning at the buffet breakfast, Carl smiled gently as he buttered his toast, his expression etched with poorly masked regret. Emma had a hard time swallowing her glass of apple juice.
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Their fingers intertwined upon the mattress. So perfect. So warm. Softness Will had never known. As graceful as they were, Emma's hands were powerful, just like her intellect and soul. She could do anything she wanted to. His only job now was to support her in life with as much love as he could muster. The battle between them was over, and their life together would soon begin to change.
"It's okay," Will breathed reassuringly. "I still have my wedding ring."
"I...I know," Emma stuttered. "I found it in your suit pocket the night I helped you pack for New York." Will's ears instantly felt hot at the memory. "Before we..." she coughed and bit her lip, "I knew it was there when we...you know..."
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"That's the one I was wearing the first day I met you."
"You know what? You have to let it all go." She handed Will the vest, their fingertips brushing. "You're following your dreams."
His gaze was soft, but heartbreak flickered in shining hazel as he bent down to place the vest in the 'giving away' box. "You should know that you're my dream, too."
She wouldn't have heard it if his whisper was any softer.
Emma's eyes widened, and her heart absolutely throbbed in her chest as he looked up.
Will stood still, watching Emma, curious to see what she would say.
She licked her lips. Her mouth felt dry. Her limbs felt heavy.
Oh, god, she was going to faint.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, Will's vest tight in her trembling grip.
"I'm sorry, Emma," he confessed. "I know how well you're doing with therapy and everything, and I don't want to upset you when things are going really well for you." He shook his head, and she watched the pink blush of apology rise over his strong neck. "I'm not trying to confuse you," Will clarified. "I just can't leave without telling you that."
She was silent. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed.
"I'm having a really hard time leaving you like this," he continued. "And I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing."
She cupped his cheek with a lifeless palm. He'd breathe energy into her again, was the mantra she had lived with since her annulment. Was it over now?
"You are." She leant forward and pressed her cheek against Will's. Burning skin. She awkwardly kissed the side of his nose. Another kiss on his cheekbone. "You are," she breathed, pecking his strong, lightly stubbled jaw line with her soft lips. His chin was granted a kiss, too. "You are." The corner of his lips.
His lips found hers, hard, and desperately confused. Their flesh warmed each other's bodies, and instinct took over. His hands travelled to her sides, and as their tongues collided, her hands fisted in his tight grey shirt.
He pressed Emma into the mattress at the end of the bed, and before Emma could consider the penetrating, erotic sensation of his tongue massaging hers, Will's hand were behind her thighs and he was shuffling them up the bed towards the pillows.
Her thighs subconsciously fell at the sides of his waist, her green skirt long since ridden up to her hips.
More.
Will dropped Emma against the pillows with a tormented grunt. She whimpered against his lips.
Will's fingers trembled furiously as he toyed with the buttons of her cardigan. Sensing Will's nervousness, Emma raked her fingers through his curls, and pulled his face down into her neck. His breath was heavy, wet against her untouched skin. As he panted, he pushed the cardigan from her skinny arms. Emma sighed, and he pulled back to gauge her reaction.
Heated lust.
He hovered over her. Gazing down at Emma's white blouse, his mad eyes could almost see what was beneath. Emma. Emma's bare body.
If Will wasn't a true, gentle soul, he would have ripped the buttons from white blouse. He was still passionate, though. His fingertips were lit with desperation as he separated the material.
Oh God.
Pretty little breasts sat in cream-coloured satin. Will swallowed harshly. He needed to feel her.
A tear slipped from his eye, and fell to her naked sternum.
They gazed at each other as he reached out and flattened his palm between her breasts.
Emma held his face in her palms, her stare half-lidded with arousal as he ventured to trace the smooth curve of her breast with his index finger. He tilted his head to kiss the inside of her wrist at the side of his jaw. Her thumb pressed gently into the dimple of his chin.
"Will," Emma whispered, her tone unnaturally hoarse. "You're too intense." His body was strong between the vice grip of Emma's naked thighs. Denim rubbed against her skin as Will pressed into her. He was aroused. So aroused. And her body was on fire.
He kissed her again, and Emma revelled in the warmth of his hands on her chest, her pale skin. His large, magical fingers slid into the cups of her bra, and grazed over her nipples.
"I...I..." he stuttered. I love you. She could hear it aching on his tongue, the confession warm on his sweet breath.
"Please." She whispered between kisses. "Don't say it." His lips fell to adore her breasts.
He kissed her softness hungrily. "Then tell me you'll wait for me," he pleaded, his breath heavy with a strange hitch. Coarseness. He flattened his tongue against the curve of her chest. "Promise me that you won't let another man touch you."
Emma moaned in agreement, and Will ran his hand up her thigh. Higher. Higher. Further than Carl's fingers had ever ventured.
"Will." She looked down to her open blouse. I'm not ready, her stare confessed.
"I know." He smoothed her messy hair back. "Let's just make love like this. Okay? No more than this."
"Okay."
Her head fell back onto the pillow, and his warm lips graced her skin once more. When she turned her head, she could see the vest pushed to the edge of the mattress. She closed her eyes, and drowned in the sensation of his kisses on her taut skin.
When she wore the vest to work that week and he recognised it, Emma was honest with herself for the first time in a long while. She didn't have the heart to throw it away.
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"There's no point pretending that we were never married to other people," Emma acknowledged as her shoulder pressed against Will's. "They made us who we are, whether we were together or apart. Dating, or...married."
Emma turned her attention to Will. His eyes were glowing with a secret. A safe secret.
They were cursed with white magic for a change, she realised. Yet, the dark hazel of his eyes told her something different: You and I will be blessed with goodness forever. We're good people. Emma, you make us good people.
"Maybe we could put the rings together. You know, somewhere safe," Will suggested.
Somewhere safe sounded wonderful.