Wow, response to chapter one was awesome! Thank you to all of you for the reviews, follows and faves and for just coming along to read. I hope you in some way enjoy this :)
…
Two
…
She wakes up cold and sore, her skin still damp from the rain, her hair hanging in frizzy curls brought on by the moisture. Her eyes open and her dreams disappear with each blink, memories and stories confused and muddled. A ship on a sea of stars, the captain a man with a hook for a hand. It's crazy. Ludicrous. Incredible.
A glance at the clock on the wall tells her it's barely 7am and even though it's Saturday she feels reluctant to sleep in. And no, it's not because of the crazy pirate man sleeping outside her apartment.
Oh yeah. Crazy pirate. Outside her apartment.
A groan escapes her as she pulls herself up, her aching body protesting all the way. There's dried blood sticking her stockings to her legs from where she fell last night, the grazes cracking and pulling as she raises herself slowly to open the door.
She doesn't know what to make of her heart beat speeding up, but can't ignore the butterflies in her belly at the sight of him. Any negativity, any pain, it all disappears for a fleeting moment as she opens the door. Because for once in her life, someone has stayed. She's consistently trying to shove him out of her life, but he is still there. And whether that's creepy or not doesn't even cross her mind because the gesture catches her so off guard.
Before he can stir, she finds herself closing the door again, her thumb shoots to her mouth, chewing on the nail as she tries to comprehend just exactly what she's going to do about this guy. Because he's obviously not going anywhere fast.
She settles on a shower to give herself some time to think and time for Killian to leave. Mentally preparing her day gives her a moment of reprieve, planning to collect Henry from his friend's house after lunch and do a spot of grocery shopping. That's the easy stuff, the everyday stuff. It's been a year since they moved into this apartment but there are still a few shelves to go up, a couple of paintings she'd like to display. She nods to herself as she washes the conditioner out of her hair. This is what she needs. Easy, methodical.
However, any efforts on her part to forget about the man in leather sleeping outside her apartment go completely out the window as she steps out into her lounge room and the man in question is casually flicking through an old magazine she'd left sitting on her coffee table.
Her eyes widen and she stumbles back, her hand instinctively reaching for the phone. But he's got that too, holding it up to show her just how much she doesn't have the upper hand.
"What the hell?!" she breathes, her heart positively racing. She hadn't thought of him as a threat before, but the way he's sitting there so calmly screams psychopath to her and she's suddenly very aware of the fact that she's all alone in this apartment. "How the hell did you get in here?"
"Pirate, remember?" He looks at her sincerely, his eyes screaming honesty at her, "Lass, I just wish to talk."
She doesn't know what it is about him that makes her want to keep giving him chances where with others she never would. A nagging voice at the back of her head reminds her that it's probably because he hasn't necessarily done anything to warrant needing a second chance. In fact, apart from an ill-timed kiss upon their first meeting, he has been a perfect gentleman. A gentleman who has consistently shown up when he's said he's going to, a gentleman who's soft voice had lulled her into a peaceful sleep only last night.
She's still uncertain of his sanity, but for whatever reason it seems logical for her to sit on the couch with him and listen to what he has to say, "But this is the last time. I can't have you hanging around here anymore. Henry lives here too and…"
"Oi! The lad enjoys my company."
She can't deny him that. Henry has always had a big imagination and a big heart. So when a man had been pleading for them to just listen while it had been pouring rain outside, Henry had been the one to let him in. It was the first of several times they would hear his story. Of a pirate looking for a lost girl.
She clasps her hands in front of her, pondering how best to address the whole situation, "Killian, I don't know who you are, but this has got to end."
He nods and she can't quite believe that he's agreeing, but his mouth opens and she realises quite suddenly that his nod is not one of acceptance, "It will end when you remember me, when you remember your life."
"No, but you don't understand. This is my life. I don't know how else to make you see." Her eyes plead for him to get it, "I can't hold off on calling the cops much longer, this is bordering on harassment."
And even he can see her threats are empty, but he still leans away from her a small amount. She thinks she may have finally got to him, but instead he reaches inside a leather satchel to pull out a large book. She glances the title as he flips it over in his hands.
"Really? A book of fairy tales? Killian, this needs to stop."
He looks down, obviously hurt, but ignores her protests, "This is the story of so many lives, lives of people I care about more than I thought I ever could. It would please this pirate's heart if you would merely consider the possibility of some truth in these tales." His good hand lingers over the cover of the book, reverence in his touch, "I'll leave this with you, lass."
And with that he stands, leaving the leather bound pages on her coffee table. He's nearly made it to the door when she catches him, "Killian?"
He breathes out, his eyes closing and, basking in the bittersweet way her voice caresses his given name, he turns to face her. "Aye?"
"Will I-? When will-?" she's not quite sure how to ask, but he's certain of his answer.
"Tomorrow, love. I'll see you tomorrow."
And she smiles because she knows he'll keep his word.
…
"Why didn't you tell him to stay, mom?" Henry complains as he crashes through the door and into the apartment, "I like him."
She tries to stop the little pain that hits her heart at his words. She knows he doesn't mean it in any way horrible, but she does sometimes feel guilty that she's bringing up a boy without a father figure in his life. And it's nice that he seems to have found someone he likes in Killian, but really? Did it have to be a delusional man with an aptitude for fairy tales?
"He said he'll be by tomorrow."
Henry smiles, flopping down on the couch, "Good. I want to ask him more about Peter Pan!"
She doesn't know why she does it, but at this point, her motives for everything are quite questionable, as though she's not really herself, so she waves a hand towards the book still sitting on the coffee table, "He left that if you want to see if there's anything in there."
His whole face lights up, "No way! He left this with us? This is so important!"
She shakes her head, "Henry, I don't know if you should be buying into this whole story. He could be very dangerous."
But her son is very perceptive and sees right through her, "Oh right mom. That's why you invited him into the house. Just admit it – you like him."
She wants to laugh, but it's really unnerving her how much it's starting to show, how her feelings towards the man who calls himself a pirate are bubbling to the surface. But instead of admitting it to her son – or herself for that matter – she rolls her eyes at him. "Just read your book," she mutters before escaping the knowing look her son is shooting her.
…
"You're nearly twelve, kid."
"It doesn't matter. I want you to read one to me."
Emma looks furtively at the book. It's one thing for Killian to try and make her read it, but another thing entirely for her son to, "Do you guys have it in for me or something? Is he calling you and planning this with you?"
Henry shakes his head as he crawls under the blankets of his bed. "He doesn't even own a phone, mom," he says matter-of-factly.
How he knows this she doesn't even want to try and figure out. She hasn't let the 'pirate' into their life that much, has she?
"Okay, okay, one story," she concedes. It can't hurt to read just one, plus she can't remember the last time she did this for Henry. She shakes her head as she sits down and opens the book, she should be able to remember that, right? Surely in his life she's done this.
"Can you read the one about Captain Hook and Tinkerbelle?"
Emma frowns, still thrown off by her seemingly missing memories, and now this? "Hook and Tinkerbelle? That's not how the story goes. What are they true loves or something?" she says it as a joke, but still feels a tug of jealousy in the pit of her stomach that she can't explain.
Henry shakes his head, "No, Tinkerbelle helps people find their true love."
She raises her eyebrows at this new twist, "And Captain Hook, villain of the seven seas, has a true love?"
He nods, smiling up at his mother, "Yeah, he does."
