Chapter 8
Killian woke up with a splitting headache, groaning loudly when he opened his eyes, and the light pierced his eyeballs with hot needles.
"Bloody hell." He closed his eyes again, burying his face in his hands, digging his thumbs into his temples to ease the pounding in his head.
"Morning, sunshine," a chipper voice reached his ears. "I would have gotten you a birthday cake, but I'm sure your stomach isn't up for sweets just yet, so I got you some aspirin and vitamins. Here you go."
Killian blinked at the glass Emma was holding towards him, and he swallowed another groan as he pulled himself up, reaching for the glass and pills. Slumping back into the pillows after he'd downed the water, he closed his eyes again, not able to handle the brightness of the room just yet - and maybe he could prolong the inevitable talk just a little longer, until he was feeling a little less under the weather.
The mattress suddenly dipped as she sat down beside him, and a moment later she asked softly, "Ready to talk?"
Apparently Emma wasn't granting him a reprieve, and he opened his eyes slowly, realizing that she had closed the curtains, and the room was now not bathed in light anymore, what made his headache kind of bearable, and he pushed himself up again, and leaned back against the headrest.
"Aye, I'm ready."
"Why the hell did you just up and leave?" she asked, watching him carefully as she waited for his answer.
"Aehm … because you told me to?" he replied, voicing it as a question, because he'd thought that was what she wanted - for him to leave her the hell alone - but clearly he must have misinterpreted her meaning somehow.
"I know you're not gay, so you might not understand women as well as I assumed," she told him, shifting on the bed to find a more comfortable position, her voice sounding slightly exasperated when she continues, "But you lived with me for long enough that you should know by now, that you can't take everything I say in anger at face value. Of course I was angry. You lied to me about something important. I think I had the right to be angry."
"Of course you had the right," he said, wanting to touch her but he wasn't sure how that would be perceived, so he suppressed the urge. "But you threw me out of the apartment, and I thought you never wanted to see me again."
"So you just crawled into this sorry excuse of a motel room, and tried to drink yourself into oblivion?"
"Something like that."
"Killian, we were worried. All of us. Robin, David … we didn't know where you were, and if you were okay." A flash of past worry flitted over her eyes, and he gritted his teeth, calling himself a fool. He shouldn't have dropped out like that. The urge to pull her into his arms just grew stronger as she knitted her eyebrows, her hand twitching as if she wanted to reach out to him, but then she drew back, and added with a slightly quavering voice, "At first I was still raving mad at you, but when no one could get a hold of you I feared something terrible happened to you, and no matter how angry I am at you, I still care about you."
"I'm sorry I was the cause of your worries." He couldn't hold himself back any longer, and leaned forward to brush his fingers over the back of her hand. "I'm truly sorry, Emma."
"I know."
Her hand turned, and her fingers intertwined with his for a brief moment before she dropped his hand. His fingers were still tingling from the touch, and he balled his hand into a fist, hoping he could hold on to the sensations for a few moments.
"Let me ask you one thing." She was eyeing him with scrutiny now, her eyes boring into his as if she wanted to read his mind. It was an eerie thought, and he gulped hard, wondering what she would say next. Her voice grew soft when she started to speak again, "Why did you tell me the truth? Why didn't you just leave the apartment? You could have just walked away without ever telling me. Why didn't you?"
"Because I ..." He snapped his mouth shut, his heart slamming into his throat as he realized what he almost said out loud. His brain must still not work properly, because he almost told her he loved her, and that was definitely not something you just blurted out like that out of the blue. Licking his lips, he opted for the much safer option and said, "I care about you, Emma. And I didn't want to lie to you anymore. You have the right to know the truth. I'm sorry for deceiving you in the first place."
"Apology accepted. But we still have a tiny problem here." Her mouth curled up into a smirk, making his heart skip a beat. "I still need a roommate, and I actually like the one I had. So … how about you're coming back?"
"You want me back in the apartment?" he asked, her offer completely taking him by surprise.
"Yes, it's the best way to make you grovel," she replied, her smirk blooming into a full grin now.
"Make me grovel?"
"Aye," she said, grinning from ear to ear when he chuckled. She was just so damn cute when she tried to imitate his accent. "You didn't think I'd just forgive you so easily, did you?"
"Of course not," he replied, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he saw the glint of mischief in her eyes. He would so gonna pay for lying to her, and it probably made him a masochist that he was actually looking forward to it. "So what's my penance?"
"A lot of cooking. That's for sure. Bathroom duty for at least six weeks." She laughed out loud when he plopped back into the pillows and groaned, the laughter still lingering in her voice as she continued, "And foot massages whenever the need arises."
"That's all?" he asked, looking up at her with a cocked eyebrow.
"I'm sure I can come up with a few more things. Just give me a few days," she shot back, standing up from the bed and walking towards the table on which she'd dumped the bag from the pharmacy.
"Emma?" he called after her, waiting for her to turn back to him before speaking again, "Thank you. Thank you for coming to find me."
"You're welcome." She shot him another smile, pointing towards the door. "Let's get you home. There is a party happening tonight, and we can't party without the guest of honor, can we?"
-/-
"So ... Killian is staying?" Ruby asked, leaning against the counter beside her.
"Of course," Emma replied, taking a pull from the bottle of beer in her hand. "He is living here."
"How exactly do you think this could work?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know with the whole 'You're in love with him' situation?"
"I'm not ..."
"Don't say it," Ruby told her firmly, shaking her head. "Don't even try to deny it. We all know it's true."
"Fine," Emma grumbled, letting her eyes roam over the room until she found him standing beside Robin.
"How about telling him that you've feelings for him?" Ruby questioned softly so that no one else could overhear them. "He is not gay after all. So why don't you give it a shot?"
"I'm ..." Emma trailed off, her fingers tightening around the bottle of beer, her heart slamming against her ribcage when Killian looked up and met her gaze, his mouth curling up into a lopsided smirk that made her knees all weak. Living with him might be a tougher challenge than she'd assumed, and she took in a deep breath, facing Ruby again, suddenly realizing what was the real problem here. "I'm scared. What if he doesn't feel the same way, and it's gonna be extremely awkward afterwards, and I'm losing the great friendship we have?"
"Friendship is gonna be enough for you though?"
"It has to." Emma's gaze flitted back to Killian, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him smiling at something Robin had said. "I don't wanna lose him."
