Emma

Hands fisted in my hair, knotting and pulling at my scalp. Body pushing against mine, moving and molding himself to me. Our breaths coming in faster and faster, my eyes shut tight. He lets go of my hair only to trail it down my face and neck all the way down to my breasts. I feel him move his face from my neck where he'd been hiding and move down until I feel his hot breath graze over my nipples and my torso began to involuntarily lift off the bed…

Beep beep beep. 6:05 am. Beep beep beep. Fuck me.

It was a dream. Another dream, to be precise. I'd been having more and more dreams with the same faceless guy. Every time it happens I wake up in a sweat, panting, wanting. I couldn't keep this up, though. I needed my sleep to be undisturbed and restful, not plenty disturbed and restless.

Today would be like every other uneventful day in the life of a grad student. Except it wasn't because it was my first day. Regardless, I had meant to treat today like any other.

After reaching over to slam my alarm clock in the face to shut it up, I leave the mess that is my bed, or rather a very comfy swarm of blankets and pillows. With my eyes still groggy with sleep I make my way over to the bathroom. What a mess, I think to myself as I look in the mirror. My hair completely disheveled, curling this way and that. Not cute at all. My nightgown is riding up and also not in a cute way. I swear the bags under my eyes are getting bigger and bigger every day. Same old, same old.

I had long ago given up the hope that someday I would roll out of bed looking like Karlie Kloss instead of boring, plain Emma Swan. So now I give a nod of acknowledgement to my buddies the eye bags, take the nearest hair tie and wrap my hair up out of my face so I can get to work on looking presentable.

After brushing my teeth, combing out the knots in my hair, applying some makeup, and putting in my contacts, I made my way to my dresser to choose my outfit only to look over at the clock and realize I had never changed the hour after daylight savings yesterday! Fuck me twice.

How could I do that? Now I only have an hour to finish getting ready and get to my first class! Fuck fuck fuck. This was not the way it was supposed to go. Maybe in high school I didn't have my life together. There was Neal—no, let's not go there today. Point is that by college, Emma Swan got her shit together. Routine, life goals, and plans. I did not mess up… ever.

Realizing there was no point wondering what caused my brain to fart last night, I quickly pull on a black pencil skirt, a white blouse, my trusty worn-down riding boots and my signature red leather jacket. Putting it on always gave me that extra boost of confidence I needed in my day, and boy did I wear it every day, come rain or shine. It had been a constant since finding it in that thrift store that time with Neal—nope, definitely not going there today.

Today was about me. I had worked my butt off for four years in college while working two jobs and tutoring and volunteering to guarantee my spot in this grad school. I needed this. I owed it to myself and to my family.

I look over at the clock again. 6:35am. Which really meant 7:35am, giving me only 10 minutes to grab a granola bar and my bag to get out the door of my dorm and get to my class in Grimm Hall. I can do this.

I'm out the door just as predicted and halfway to Grimm when I realize I forgot my phone. This day could just not get any worse. Whatever, I think, I would have had to silence it anyway and everyone knows it's my first day anyway. Who would call me?

With five minutes left, I stop over at the bagel truck in front of Grimm to pick up some coffee so I wouldn't be dying in class. Standing in line I suddenly felt like someone was watching me. I turned around to see who was behind me in line. There was only a guy, really tall so I couldn't see his face. How strange. It really felt like someone was watching me.

The food truck girl hands me my coffee with a smile. "Here you go!" she beams. Her enthusiasm only manages to pull out a sheepish grin from me as I mumble my thanks. As I turn around, I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulder. My shoulders bunch up and I look up at Really Tall Guy and my jaw falls open.

He's absolutely gorgeous. Clear blue eyes, tousled brown hair and just the right amount of stubble. Oh, why hadn't I bothered to look up before? Looking at him is making my day. It dawns on me I've been staring for a little too long without saying anything when he breaks out into a dimpled smile. What's my name again?

"Sorry to bother you," he says. Shit, he's British too? What the— "I noticed you were holding a course packet in your hands and it said 'Principles of Education' and I was just wondering-"

He pauses, looking uncertain. I guess I'm still staring. Compose yourself, Swan! "Hmm? Oh yes, yeah. I'm taking the class with Professor Alvarez." I look away from his cute adorable little face for a second. Shit shit shit. Does this mean he's in my class? Oh no. I need to be nice! Okay. "Are you in that class too?" Please say no, please. He'll be trouble.

"Yes! Oh good, I'm glad you're in it because that would have been really embarrassing if you weren't," he chuckles, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. I look down and see his outfit of choice. Long blue woolen coat with a knitted beige scarf. Nice. Jeans and boots. Nice. Casual. Messenger bag. Hot. Nothing gets me going more than the thought of this guy being as studious as can be. Or as me.

Oops, I didn't respond again! Shit shit shit. Play it cool. "Oh don't worry. I totally get it. It's nice to find a buddy for your classes," I say with a smile. A buddy? God, what a dork.

He reaches over to grab his coffee from a now blushing food truck girl and he dazzles her with a full on smile. He points his coffee towards Grimm Hall and asks, "Shall we?"

In my head, I save the way he phrased that question for later. I imagine him asking me to dance, to give him a kiss, to give him a blow— Stop it. He needs an answer. I smile up at him.

"Of course. Don't want to be late."