hey guys. i did want to have this one up for yesterday but i had a super busy day since i'm moving soon. and then i have to repack because i start my first year of university in october, and i move in there on september 18th. anyways, i'm going to try to get updates every sunday now, since i want them to be quite regular.

anyways, i hope you all like this one! also, i'm sorry for the upcoming angst. it doesn't last long though, i promise!

- shauna! xo

When the movie finishes, her head is tucked into his neck and she's got an arm laid across his waist, her side pressed firmly into his. Her eyes are closed as she breathes heavily into the skin of his neck, though she's not asleep and her lips twitch when she hears him groan slightly in his sleep.

Her eyes flutter open to look at him and she catches his eyelids flashing behind his eyes, his lips parting slightly, and he looks so boyish like this, so calm and relaxed in a way she hasn't seen in a while, that it makes her own muscles relax.

She watches as he shuffles slightly in his sleep and his own arm, that is circled around her waist, tightens slightly (and boy, he's lucky that she feels so high on these pain meds right now, because otherwise, that might have been a tad painful).

Fractured ribs and all that.

Wasn't the greatest of situations.

She mulls of the two of them, of how far they'd come in such a short amount of time. She thinks of his time with Milah slightly, how they're relationship had changed slightly since the two of them had broke up, bordering on the edge of flirty here and now (but didn't Killian flirt with everybody?).

She thinks of how she'd dismissed him so easily earlier and she finds she doesn't really want to anymore. She's just tired, so tired. Of everything and everyone and maybe, just a small part of her doesn't want to be alone. Knowing that she has Killian and he's single.

It's better, knowing that he's not with anyone. But, she just tells herself it was Milah and how horrible she was, to everyone in general.

But, it still leaves a bitter taste in her mouth thinking of Killian with anyone else. Anyone that could take him away from her.

She watches, and listens as he snores lightly and her lips twist up as she remembers the conversation a few days ago when Killian had adamantly protested he didn't snore.

Didn't all men?

He's glaring down at her, his usually bright, blue eyes narrowed.

"I do not snore, Swan," he huffs.

She smirks, watches as he crosses his arms over his chest when he pouts.

God, he was such a drama queen sometimes.

Rolling her eyes, she turns her back to him and she's strolling off to the corner of her room so she could deposit her earrings on her desk (she never was one for the dressing table - honestly, she's not much the girly type).

"Whatever you say, babe," she grins, knowing how much he hated the nickname.

It had all started a few months earlier when he and Milah were in their on-off-again casual, relationship. Honestly, she'd long since stopped trying to keep track with the two of them. It was seriously exhausting.

That, and she never really liked Emma. With her long, dark hair and her perfect skin, and her sharp eyes.

Well, no love lost there, either.

Emma didn't much like her either and quite frankly, all she did was make sure Emma didn't have much time with Killian when she knew that the two of them were only best friends. Friends, that's all they'd ever be.

She always made a show whenever Emma was around. Emma saw it, saw the way Milah smirked at her when her lips came down on Killian's, his lips moving against hers as her eyes remained open, focussed on her. Not that she ever said anything.

Emma, had merely snorted and rolled her eyes until Killian had pulled away, a slight blush on his cheeks as his hand came up to scratch that spot behind his ear and he took a step back from his girlfriend with what Emma assumed was a warning look on his face.

Milah rolled her eyes.

"Baby," she whined, her accent drawing the syllables out. "Come on, it's nothing she-" and Emma swears she isn't missing the way her tongue curls with disgust around her name, "hasn't seen before."

Killian doesn't say anything, and Emma turns her head, eyes looking down at the paper beneath her though there's a fighting smirk on her lips.

Baby.

That, and she knows how much the nickname irritates him. He was seriously easy to wind up.

She never let him live it down after that.

So, when he stares down at her as he protests that he doesn't snore, she merely uses the name and he's almost growling softly.

"Swan," he whines.

She snorts.

"You're such a child sometimes, Jones," she comments. "But, yeah, you do snore, buddy. No denying it. I even have the proof on my phone."

"You could have faked that," he sniffs, his head turning to the side.

She merely grins, head shaking as her bracelets also drop down onto the table.

And then, "I'm not a child!"

When she turns around to him, his lips are pressed together and his leg is tapping a rhythm on the floor beneath him. His eyes are wide, like a child's before they throw a tantrum and his arms are crossed over his chest.

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes. "Sure you're not."

She waits until he sighs dramatically, clearly giving up on the argument (and knowing he'd never win against her) until she adds, "Baby."

She's still giggling at his indignant huff and retreating, heavy footsteps when she hears the door slam, followed by a mutter of, "That bloody woman."

Yeah, she definitely loved riling him up.

Just a little.

She's lost in the memory, didn't realise her eyes had drooped closed again until she feels herself been shifted and they prise back open again to see Killian settling her back against the pillows with a crooked grin on his lips.

"Hello, love," he greets. "Good sleep?"

She merely grins.

"Not as good as yours if the snoring is anything to go by."

She receives a playful glare and a light tap to her nose which she shrugs at (thank god, that's getting less painful or maybe that's just the strong stuff the hospital has her on, god damn doctors) and her nose wrinkles in response, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Are you declaring war on me, Jones?" she asks, a teasing note to her voice.

He smirks.

"You would be at a disadvantage in your condition, love," he says slowly. "Would be bad form of me, that."

Her eyes narrow.

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge."

His grin widens, "We'll just have to see in a few short weeks when you're back to your normal, functioning. Won't we, Swan?"

She merely sighs with a raised eyebrow.

"You're lucky it hurts me to move."

His smile falters and his eyes widen.

"Are you okay?" he demands quickly. "Do you need anything. I can get you-"

He trails off when he looks at her face, her lips pressed tightly together as she tries not to laugh and she watches as he tries to form his facial expression into a glare.

"You need to stop that," he warns.

She shrugs.

"You should know better than that by now," she grins. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I can't feel anything with these meds. Some good stuff."

His smirk is back in full force as he directs his baby blues onto her.

"And here I thought you'd be blabbering none sense, admit your fatal attraction to me and we'd be done with it."

She swears if she rolls her eyes anymore around this man, they'll stay that way.

"In your dreams, Jones."

He's off the bed before she can blink, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh, every night," he nods.

She snorts, "And they'll stay that way."

His eyebrows furrow, his hand laying on his chest as he looks back at her with mock hurt.

"Ouch!" he goes on dramatically. "That's painful, Swan. Bruising a man's ego like that? That's some bad form right there."

Oh, god. Him and his bad form.

"I'm sure your ego can take a blow or two," she tells him, dryly.

"I think yours could too," he tells her, nodding his head again. "Did anybody ever tell you, you can be quite cocky?"

She reaches for the pillow behind her, somewhat slowly, since moving still hurts, but he dodges, darting for the doorway when he sees her hands move.

"So violent, Swan!" he gasps.

She rolls her eyes, "You'll get over it."

She thinks he's gone but then there's an actual genuine smile when he pops his head back around the door frame.

"English breakfast for tea?"

She grins back, head cocking to the side as though the answer was obvious.

"Duh!"

(He did have his uses, after all, he was an insanely good cook, which made him an amazing roommate to have, at times, at least. He could be a pain in the ass sometimes.)

-/-

Killian calls up stairs sometime later, to tell her that dinner will be ready within the half hour and to ask if she'd need assistance getting down the stairs.

"I've managed a broken rib or two just fine on my own before," she'd reminded him. "I'll be down soon."

She hadn't even seen him but somehow she knew he was smiling as she'd walked down the stairs.

So, thirty minutes later she was gritting her teeth and cursing her independent need to do this for herself as she gripped tightly to the railing on the landing as she slowly made her way downstairs, the tips of her fingernails scraping against the wood.

(It probably takes her five minutes just to get down.)

She breathes slightly heavy as she leans against the side before continuing into the kitchen.

"Hey, Killian. Is it-"

She stops, dead in her tracks and her eyes widen as she looks in front of her.

Killian is there, alright, but his lips are engaged with another's and who else, but Milah Gold, herself.

Killian's blushing as he pulls back, his eyes wide as he tries to take a step back from the girl.

"Emma," he greets, quietly, and his hand comes up to scratch that spot behind his neck.

Milah, for her part, doesn't seem the least bit fazed as she steps forward, a malicious grin on her lips.

"Hello, Emma," she greets, her teeth shining in the light. "It's great," she emphasises the word too much and Emma knows sarcasm when she sees it, "to see you again. Still living with Killian, I see."

Emma's eyes narrow.

"Considering this is my apartment, yes."

Killian shuffles uncomfortably.

"I stopped by the store earlier," he starts. "We needed some tomatoes, and I bumped into Milah and we got talking."

Milah grins up at him, "As you do."

"So I invited her to dinner. Thought it would be a great opportunity for us to catch up."

Emma's eyes remained narrowed as Milah looks back at her, her eyes wide with false sympathy.

"I was sorry to hear about your... little accident," she settles on, leaving Emma to doubt her intentions to why she's here. She never did like the blonde. "I hope you're doing better."

Emma grits her teeth, lets out a tight, "Thanks."

Killian clears his throat, gestures to the table and shoots her a small smile.

"Why don't you take a seat at the table, Swan? It isn't good for you to be straining yourself so much, doctor's orders, and tea will be ready shortly."

Emma's lips are pressed tightly together as she shakes her head and takes a step back.

She wants to believe that she's not mad at Killian but she sort of is. Not for talking to a girl, for inviting her on... a date or whatever but for inviting Milah back when they'd talked about this, after they'd broken up the last time, because he knew how she felt where Milah was concerned. ssly.

All that she asked of him if he decided to get back with her was that she wouldn't have to deal with the girl. He'd known how she treated Emma, like something you get on the end of your shoe, and god, if she doesn't hate him a little bit right now.

(She tries to ignores the irritational feeling the coarses through her.)

(He doesn't owe you anything, it says. The two of you aren't anything.)

That, and the feeling stirring in her gut feels an awful lot like the times she'd stand on the streets, outside a care home as another girl was given a family, a place to belong in the world with people who would love her.

(She decides to ignore that.)

"I'll pass," she says dryly, shooting an obvious look at Milah. "I'll leave you to catch up."

Milah's got a smirk on her lips, clearly happy to have caused some discomfort at the same time that Killian takes a step forward, a frown pulling at his lips.

"Swa-"

"Never mind," she cuts him off abruptly, a fake, bright smile on her lips, as she averts her eyes, refusing to look at him. "I'm not very hungry, anyway. I think I'll just get an early night."

Killian doesn't stop, a pleading look on his face.

"Emma-"

"Goodnight," she cuts him off, smiling tightly at Milah once more before turning around and booking it the hell out of there as fast as her legs will carry her with the added burden of her painful ribs.

She ignores the tightening of her throat, the way she gulps, even as she gets back to her room and purposely locks the door behind her as she collapses on her bed, gasping for air (so, maybe, she shouldn't have run, quite so literally). She doesn't realise until it's silent, and she's got her head buried in a pillow and she feels wetness, is that she's allowed a few tears to run down her face.

Stupid, traitorous feelings.

She knew it was a bad idea, to let her guard down slightly, to let someone in. To actually be herself and smile and laugh and have fun. To let herself to feel loved for even the tiniest of moments, to care for someone in return.

Even someone like Killian who was her friend, her friend, and nothing more. Because that's all the were. All they'd ever manage to be, especially now.

Right?

Because it wasn't like she loved him, she did, but she wasn't in love with him. That's impossible because he's a roommate and her best friend. She just doesn't like who he's with which is completely reasonable because she's sort of a bitch. That's all. She just wanted what was best for him which was not Milah Gold.

Not by a long shot.

So, sue her for getting emotional.

Still, she'd blame it on the pain, the physicality of her injuries.

There was no need to believe any different, and so she wouldn't.

so what did you guys think?

love it? hate it?

did you have a favourite part? a favourite line?

let me know in a review, because i'd love to hear from you!

- shauna! xo