Disclaimer - I own nothing. All credit goes to ABC studios.
He'd heard the legend, of course – he was over three hundred years old, for God's sake. But he'd never been so desperate as to try to pursue it. Even after Milah's passing, he had not been so hopeless as to engage in the idiotic tall tale he'd heard. Maybe that was because Milah was dead, a curse not even true love's kiss could break. But Emma Swan was right in front of him, so very real and alive, and, yet, he could not have her.
He removed a bottle from his vest and put it to his lips, taking a quick swig of its contents. The alcohol burned slightly, but the feeling soon petered out, leaving only the numbing sensation that Hook so desperately craved. He eyed the sacrifices of warriors past disdainfully. If only they had known their terrible, glorious fate. He briefly considered tossing a coin into the pile of gifts but stopped himself – he wanted no mercy from the siren.
His boots clicked as he walked leisurely toward Lake Nostos, fishing a canteen out of his coat pocket. He squatted down and cautiously began to fill it with water, his eyes darting around the lake, hoping for a sign of movement.
There was a faint splash and then another, one more, two more, three more before Emma's form rose out of the water. Hook's tongue darted out of his mouth and swiped along the edges of his lips. She looked bloody gorgeous in that dress, the fact that it was soaking wet allowing it to cling to the curves of her body. "Swan," he breathed, letting himself shamelessly take in every beautiful part of her. He probably looked like a complete pervert right now, but he didn't care. He finally had this moment in front of him, and he'd be damned if he let it pass.
"Hello, Captain," she greeted, gliding through the water gracefully. "Oh, how I've missed you." She was getting closer and closer now, barely inches away from him. "Do you know how much I've thought of you? Know how much I've wanted to have you near me?"
Her words dripped with innuendos so similar to Hook's that it surprised him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, unable to resist her any longer. Bloody hell, the siren even smelled like Emma (well, at least with an addition of lake water and blood). "Swan," he uttered once more.
The siren chuckled. "It seems like someone's at a loss for words." Hook mumbled agreements into her neck. "Well, then show me how much you've missed me, Captain. Show me how much you want me."
He didn't need to be told twice. He kissed her neck hungrily, seeking out the place that made her squirm the most. A throaty moan from the siren told him that this place happened to be where her neck and shoulder met. Hook smirked smugly into her, bringing all his attention to that particular area. He was going to leave a mark that was for sure. There was something extremely arousing in that – leaving his mark on his Swan.
He growled and turned his attention to the siren's lips, plunging his tongue roughly into her mouth. He allowed his hand to travel up and down her body, letting himself feel her in a way he knew he'd never be able to again. The thought made his actions even more ardent. Emma was so hung up on bloody Neal, the son of the bloody Crocodile. She'd never be his for as long as he lived. The thought terrified and saddened him, but, in that moment, he couldn't think about it. He couldn't allow this moment to be taken away from him. For the only time in his life, Killian Jones was going to have Emma Swan all to himself, and he could do whatever he wanted to her.
It made him somewhat sick to be taking advantage of her in this way (he was always a gentleman), but it was his only chance. His tongue ravaged every corner of her mouth, trying to memorize all of it – her scent (roses and cinnamon), her taste (sea salt and dark chocolate), her touch (bloody intoxicating, it was).
His hook wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to him so that her body was flush against his. His other hand groped her hair ecstatically, yearning to never forget the way her blonde tresses felt between his fingers.
"I fucking love you, Emma Swan," he murmured against her lips. "I fucking love you."
The siren laughed dryly. "The poor, lovesick pirate," she teased. "Come with me, Hook. I'll be yours forever."
He couldn't help the chill that ran through his body at the thought. But it was the same thought that caused him to snap, made him yank away from the vixen, grab his sword, and plunge it into the heart of siren. Emma would never be his, not ever again for even a moment. And definitely not forever.
He watched, nonplussed, as his love turned back into the ever-alluring siren, blood staining the front of her dress. She collapsed into the water, her expression blank. Hook turned away, not wanting to see anymore. His boots made their usual clicking sound as he walked off, and the desire for more rum returned. He wanted to forget this. He needed to forget this.
And Killian Jones left just as he'd come – boots tapping, alcohol drowning his sorrows, and an impossible dream tearing at his insides.
Thanks a million for reading! Please review, favorite, follow, etc.!
Well, this was my first foray into the Captain Swan fandom, and, I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty intimidated by all the amazing Captain Swan authors out there. Any and all thoughts would be appreciated!