I couldn't help myself. This was totally meant to remain a oneshot, but too many of you beautiful people said that you would like more. So I wrote a little accompaniment which I've left open ended enough that if you beg for more I'd be likely to crumble again… Just sayin'.
That being said, thank you all for your kind words. Hope you like this little moment as well.
…
Here Comes the Sun
…
Part Two
…
"I'm definitely going to need to purchase some more jackets," he says, smiling as she leads him out onto the sidewalk out front of the restaurant they had just shared their fourth date in.
She shrugs into his kindly offered outerwear and throws a smirk over her shoulder as she cuddles into the warm fabric, "You're not wrong. This is mine now."
The leather feels soft and well-worn under her fingertips, but she still relishes in the feeling of his fingers wrapped around hers as he takes her hand, walking beside her in the direction of her apartment.
It's actually not too cool out tonight – not that she's going to mention that and have to give up being curled up in his clothing – the summer well and truly leaving them behind, but not taking all the warmth from the air just yet. There has been a threat of rain all day though, clouds rolling in and out of the otherwise clear sky, but she's cautiously optimistic that they will make it back to her place without having to deal with a change in the weather. She pulls herself in closer to Killian's side and rests her head on his shoulder, amazed with the level of comfort she feels with him after mere weeks of dating.
After their impromptu first date, things had just sort of started falling into place with them. It was surprisingly simple and there were no games. When he wanted to see her, he would call and arrange something. When she had something she wanted to share with someone, she'd text him and knew he'd reply. After a lifetime of running from people and relationships, it felt nice to be running towards something.
Being that he has to travel past her apartment every day to get home, he'd count every chance meeting as a date, worried that their busy lives might mean they never got to sit down to a quiet dinner. But, so far, they've had four dinner dates in three weeks and Emma can't help but think this might be going somewhere.
He's been the perfect gentleman with her though, taking her cautious lead and only offering a kiss to the cheek when she shies away from anything more. But his patience has only made her want him more and she's tired of shying away from someone who has done nothing but impress her at every step.
"So, what are you doing tomorrow night?" he asks, his voice pulling her from her happy reverie.
She shrugs, leaning away from him as they walk so she can turn her head to look at him. "Depends," she challenges, biting her lip.
He turns his head to meet her gaze, slowing their comfortable pace to a standstill as he lets his hands travel down her arms to clasp her fingers between his. He cocks his head to the side, as though contemplating something and, god, Emma hopes it's a kiss. He's got his eyes on her like she's an absolute treasure and she has never been so sure about a man in her life as she is now.
It should worry her that she's only known him a month, but it only comforts her to know that he's someone she can trust.
"Emma," he starts, his tone serious.
Her eyes widen suddenly; his voice is too serious, "Oh god, don't you dare propose!"
He chuckles at her assumption, but shakes his head, "Not yet."
And she breathes out a sigh of relief, internally rolling her eyes at herself – it seems she is still prone to panic, no matter how sure she is of someone in her life. Somehow though, the idea of him proposing one day doesn't seem to spark the same sort of panic.
"I uh, I did want to ask you something though." One of his hands untangles itself from hers and makes its way up to the back of his neck, scratching behind his ear in a gesture that Emma has come to associate with nerves.
Trying to ease his mind, she smiles and leans into him, hoping that she looks inviting and open, "Go ahead."
He gives her that shy grin, that she has become so fond of, before lowering his arm and pulling her in closer to him, "I wondered if you might consider, perhaps, being my girlfriend?"
She lets out a breathy chuckle, still as shocked as ever by him. From the moment they met he has made it no secret that he thinks of her as the most wonderful human he's ever met. She's always been concerned about being put on a pedestal, because there is so much further to fall when she inevitably disappoints the other person. With him, though, she's not afraid.
Her eyes flick to his through a heavy lidded gaze and she shrugs, "I kinda thought I already was."
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls through the atmosphere as though applauding their little moment of promise. But it falls upon the deaf ears of two people who have blocked the rest of the world out.
Emma Swan could very well be falling for this man and his smile at her words is everything to her. Before she can chicken out and let this fall through her fingertips, she reaches a hand up to the back of Killian's neck and pulls him down to her awaiting kiss, lips parting on a gasp the moment they touch his.
If they could focus on anything but the soft slide of lips, they would notice lightning sparking above them and another low rumble as the inevitable rain from the day approaches them. But, instead, she simply tilts her head and moans quietly as he tastes her lips, and the droplets falling from the sky begin to make their way into their embrace.
His hand slips beneath the jacket she's wearing, sliding up her back until he reaches heated skin and pressing lightly, trying to draw her even closer. She tugs at his shirt collar, one arm trapped between them, feeling the heavy thud of their twin heartbeats.
The rain starts to fall a little heavier now, clinging to their faces and sliding to where they are joined, adding to the taste of each other. Killian pulls back momentarily, Emma chasing his lips and connecting with his stubbled jawline as he looks up at the rain pouring down on them. He groans as she nips at his pulse point, "I think we might attract the rain, lass."
She grins into his neck, "There are worse things."
He walks her the rest of the way home, trying to hurry along so she won't be cold. But she tugs on his hand and slows him down, more than content to walk in the rain if it means she's walking with him. "It's okay," she tells him with a smile, "I've got your jacket."
He raises an eyebrow, "Aye love, which means I don't."
"Ah, so your rushing isn't out of chivalry."
"I'll admit to thoughts of self preservation."
She spies the foyer light of her apartment building and squeezes his hand, "Well looks like you're in luck – my apartment is just ahead."
But suddenly he is the reluctant party, slowing right down.
Standing out in the rain, he steps in closer to her and speaks in her ear, "So about tomorrow?"
Her heart is hammering so hard in her chest at the low rumble and warm breath of his voice and it takes her a moment to remember that she never did answer him about that. Biting her lip, she looks up at him to find he's moved impossibly close to her again, "I'm free for lunch."
He lets a quick kiss fall on her lips at her answer, happy that it'll be less than 24 hours before he sees her again. She doesn't seem to want to let go of tonight with just a peck though, so she pulls him firmly back to her, opening her lips under his and moaning at the quick contact of his tongue.
This kiss holds more fire than their first, a promise of nights tangled in sheets and each other held in every movement. She presses her body against his and his hand snakes around the back of her, clutching the material of the dress she wears and almost lifting her onto his hips. Breathless and panting, he breaks away, aware that they are still standing on a very public walkway. His forehead rests against hers as his eyes open slowly, seeing the way the rain drops cling to Emma's eyelashes as she, too, catches her breath. He hopes she knows how stunning he finds her in this moment.
"I should go," she whispers, barely audible over the crackle of thunder in the air and the rain collapsing at their feet, as though she doesn't really want him to hear it.
But he does, and he agrees softly with her, pulling back with a nod, "I'll pick you up at 12."
She returns his nod with a wave, stepping towards her apartment building and wishing he was coming with her, "If you're here at 11, I wouldn't be opposed."
He chuckles, waving back, "Eleven it is."
She rests heavily against the closed door of her apartment once she makes it inside, breathing slowly and trying to remember every moment of their night – the way he'd looked upon her with pride as he'd introduced her to friends they bumped into at the restaurant, the way he had pulled out her chair and opened the door for her, the way he had held her at the end of the night, intense and kind all at once.
She's been caught in the trap of falling hard and fast before, but this feels right. And she can't seem to explain it in any other way than that.
Smiling, she makes her way into her apartment and sheds her wet clothing as she walks towards her bathroom. She would never admit it out loud to him, but the thought of seeing Killian all day tomorrow is why she had suggested he picks her up so early. Lunch turning to dinner is definitely something that had crossed her mind. And, as she peels off her stockings and steps into the shower, hand reaching for her razor to shave her legs, she might not be opposed to dinner turning to dessert either.
…
Turns out they both have colds the next day. He brings around warm fudge brownies for dessert.
…
Thoughts?
