Henry

Summary: Emma never imagined how wonderful the morning afters were. Until she realized one big mistake the night before.

Emma woke up with light feathery touches on her hip caressing up to her soft, sensitive bosom and the butterfly kisses across her bare shoulder. She never thought it would be like this, never felt like this—contented, safe, warm—adored. She sighs comfortably and burrowed herself further back into the firm chest of the man she equally and irrevocably loves. She uttered a moan when his hands became rough and his glorious lips nipped the beating pulse on her neck.

She always thought that the morning after would be filled with awkward search for the clothes thrown in haste last night, uncertain smiles and uncomfortable eye contact with phony promises to call each other later—not this.

"Good morning, love." Not with a self-proclaimed devilishly handsome man to wake you up with his affectionate embrace and a voice so enthralling that can still make you feel heated up despite how many rounds you did last night.

Oh, she still remembers the passionate, steamy gazes they gave each other before excusing themselves from the dinner her best friend hosted. How they could not get their hands off of each other even inside the cab and how it went from sweet, loving touches to fervid, sensual and hot when they were finally alone in his apartment. She remembers how she ached for him, feeling wanton, anxiously waiting to fill her carnal needs. And when she finally found his quivering, raw—fuck.

Emma bolted up, the realization dawning on her. Eyes widening and panicking she stares at her boyfriend looking oh-so-gorgeous beneath the sheets. She tried not to ogle at his magnificence—how the morning light illuminate his deep-sea eyes, and his eyebrows—God. And he was biting his lip while openly feasted his sight on her nakedness. "Killian!"

He finally looks up to her eyes and lifts a brow. "What, love?"

"Last night! We…" she trailed off and tried to calm herself down for what she was about to say. But she was kind of distracted at how his mouth quirked up at one side.

"Yeah, I know, love. It was amazing, I never knew I had the energy to satisfy you—but, bloody hell, the way you writhed underneath me—"

"—no, stop!" she felt all the blood in her cheeks. She tried concentrating and closed her eyes, thinking it will distract her from his heated gaze but instead images of their recent enjoyable activities popped behind her eyes. She heard him chuckle. She opened her eyes only to give him her annoyed glare, but he just smirked at her. She finally blurted it out, "Last night, you didn't—we didn't use any protection!"

It was almost amusing, how it finally dawns on him, smirk vanishing, mouth opening and closing and his face paling in realizing what that means.

Emma suddenly lurched forward; hand clamped on her mouth the other on her belly. She rushed toward the bathroom.

When she came back to the bedroom, she found Killian, sitting up on the bed, his back leaning on the headboard and deep in his thoughts. She bit her lip trying to think of what to say in this situation while absent-mindedly picking up a shirt on the floor (not knowing if it was hers or Killians) and wore it over her head. "Killian, it's too early to be sure, but what if…"

He looked up at her and smiled affectionately. He patted the space beside him and beckoned her to come over. Emma obliged and crawled on the bed over to him. He pulled her inside his arms and kissed her temple softly. "It would be lovely if it is a little lass…" he murmured against her hair.

She froze. "What?"

Killian shifted their position so that she faces him. He tenderly stared at her eyes, his hand brushing her cheeks. "Or it could be a boy, either way, I would still be delighted."

She gaped at him. "Killian…what?"

His smile felt like everything will be alright. That after this day ends, he would still smile at her, eyes would still adore her in every way and his lips would still keep telling her how lovely she is and how deeply he loves her. "What I mean, love, is that having a child with you will be wonderful, exceptionally amazing. Whatever he or she is… or both, doesn't matter, I will love our child how I utterly and unconditionally love you, sweetheart." He played with the hair on her shoulder and kissed her forehead after.

"A-are you sure, Killian?" she asked breathy, not fully digesting what he just said. "I mean were still so young, I'm 19 and you— your dreams, your band? Killian, I don't think I'm ready yet."

"I don't care about anything else but you, Emma." He definitely detected the strain on her voice as he assured her with his eyes. He holds on to her hand and kissed her knuckles one by one. Afterwards, he intertwined them with his and gazed up to her. "I love you."

Emma's breath hitched, taking it all in, she stared up the ceiling trying to stop the tears forming in her eyes to fall. Why does she deserve this selfless, adoring man?

"But, come on now, love. Can you imagine? A little you and me—golden curls and my eyes? Or dark-haired with your beautiful green ones? Me as a father would produce a drop-dead gorgeous lass and all the laddies would have to wait in line."

She snorted. "Yeah, and with your humbleness too."

"And your stubbornness…" his embrace tightens around her. She could feel his breath behind her neck.

She snuggled up to him. "And what would we call her?"

"Emillia." His immediate answer made her look up to him and raise an eyebrow. "I might have already thought about this. It's actually a mixture of our names, Emma and Killian."

Emma shook her head. "You're unbelievable…and too sentimental."

"How 'bout Hope, then?"

"Hope?"

"When we met, I got this idea, that I've found the one, my true love…my hope." He scratched behind his reddening ear.

"God, Killian, stop it." She giggled. She absolutely adore his mushiness and sweetness, not that she would admit it out loud. "She should have a strong name like Adreana or Alexandra."

"What? Her name should reflect how sweet and charming she would be, not how she could punch the lights out of your eyes!"

"Killian, a sweet, little girl cannot survive this kind of world. She needs to be strong, tough and independent." She says this with determined eyes and crossed arms in front of her.

"Just like her mother." He surrendered, uncrossing her arms, pulling her hand up to place a soft kiss to it.

There was a moment of pure bliss afterwards, moments where they calmly breathe out on each other, surrounded with comfortable silence and feelings of love and belongingness.

"Wait, what if it's a boy?"

They looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Henry." Then, they both grinned.

"Henry it is…"

And a bit later, they found themselves inside the bathroom, ejecting everything they ate the past night. And a half-hour drive later to the hospital, with their friends inside the emergency room, they found out they only had a bad case of food poisoning. Right there and then, vowed never to let Ruby host another dinner ever again.

"Hey! At least, it's not because ya'll pregnant!" Ruby's high-pitched voice echoed throughout the room. Emma and Killian shared a look.

My first attempt on writing Captain Swan series of one-shots, yay! What do you think?