The museums were beautiful and endless, but there was still something missing while he roamed through the paintings and displays. It was Emma. He picked up the next postcard for her at the National Maritime Museum along with prints of old ship plans and designs.
Emma,
I wish you were here to see this museum! We'll have to come back some day. It's not the same being at museums without you telling me all of the facts and stories behind the artifacts we see. Reading the placards is not nearly as fun or as educational. I'm thinking of the time we went out of the city, at least fifty miles, after a rough week of classes, and found a place where we could see the stars. I still stay we probably crossed the state line. There was a glorious planetarium in the museum that may have beaten our journey out by a long shot. I could have stayed in there forever. I miss you. Wait for me, I'll be home soon. -k
After Killian made his declaration to Emma to no longer allow her to be sad over Neal, he knew it was time to go into full on friend mode. To be a rebound was not what he desired. He was not here for short term. It was a marathon, not a sprint, and if he let himself kiss her while she laughed at an old Batman movie, he would never forgive himself.
Emma was not so much on the same page. The late night movie marathons made something inside her warm up, and she found that her heart would occasionally clench in longing for the man who sat next to her on the couch. She tried to brush it off as leftover feelings from Neal. She was sad and vulnerable, it was a natural reaction to breakup.
And yet.
Had he always been so handsome? Why was she just now noticing the sharpness of his jaw line, or the depth of his eyes? Was his hair always so soft? His touch always so gentle when he woke her up on the couch to move her to her bed? Sometimes he would carry her to bed when she refused to get up, and his arms were stable and strong. She felt safe.
It was on a whim that a month after Neal left she bought them tickets to the UT Dallas baseball game, something Killian used to love going to, even if their team lost every time. She rationalized with herself that it was only a tentative date. She wouldn't label it that, but it would be a sort of trial run for her to see what spending time with just one another would be like outside of their apartment and favorite coffee shop. She was hopeful, to say the least.
Emma arrived home that Friday evening, tickets clutched in an envelope, and excitement and nervousness pulsing through to her fingertips.
"Killian!" she called, dropping her backpack in the kitchen. She noticed something was off upon further entering the apartment. There were shoes by the couch that did not belong to her, and looked much too small to belong to Killian. And too feminine. "Killian?"
Her head snapped towards Killian's bedroom door when she heard a woman's bubbling giggle coming from his room. A weight fell into her stomach, as her eyes grew wide and her excitement turned into instant regret.
The envelope with tickets dropped to the floor, landing next to her feet.
She heard something that sounded like someone falling, and the giggling lasted for a few more seconds. She quickly glanced around the apartment, and decided to make a quick exit for her room. She had her hand on the handle of the door when she heard his door open.
"Swan! I, uh, didn't expect you home so soon," Killian was out of breath and his face was flushed a bright red. "Is everything okay? What's wrong?" he said as she turned around to look at him.
There was tense silence between the two of them, as Emma took in his mostly bare figure. He had nothing but boxer briefs on, and his hair was wild. She saw the faint outline of muscle definition that traced his arms, pecs, and stomach. Their eyes met and she could hear the blood rushing through her ears, the heat rising up her neck and into her ears, and her heart began to beat faster. The jealousy she felt of the woman who was currently in his bed was more than she thought she was possible. She wouldn't be surprised if she looked in the mirror and saw her skin turning green.
Shaking her head violently, Emma turned away from the door. "I'll give you some space," she said a lot less confidently than she had planned. She made a direct line towards the front door, picking up her backpack by one strap on her way by.
She almost didn't turn around to look at him before she left. Habit kicked in, though, along with the desire to see him again. A longing coursed through her body, and all she wanted was to have him ask her to stay. His eyes were wide, though, and it seemed as if he were at a loss for words. She let herself briefly wonder if he had felt the same electricity she had. There was no time to ponder it too long, though. He hadn't asked her to stay. He hadn't said anything. She opened the front door and was out of it before she could do anything she might regret. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she knew she had to put distance in between them, especially if she intended for their friendship to survive any longer. She bounded down the three flights of stairs and into the damp, humid air.
You're running, her inner conscious said in a sing-song voice that sounded an awful lot like Killian's. Sweat started to gather at her hairline as she found her car in the parking lot, threw her backpack in, and quickly started the car.
"Am not," she muttered to herself as she threw the car in reverse and headed towards the I-30 East exit. "I just need space."
The darkness that came with the late winter settled over the long and winding interstate as she drove until her car was almost out of gas. Not quite feeling like the two hundred miles she had already put between herself and Killian was enough, she filled up her tank at a 24/hour gas station somewhere in Arkansas and kept going.
She had no destination in mind, only a feeling: the need to drive until her body no longer shook and her head was no longer swarming with the image of Killian with someone who wasn't her.
Nashville wasn't too far off.
The city of music. Dreams. Civil War history.
It wouldn't be the worst place to spend a week off, she decided, as the town drew ever nearer. Definitely not the worst place.
Killian heard his name being called from outside his door, and that was the beginning and end of everything.
His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, which was that Emma was hurt and needed him. The second he had heard his name the other affairs that he had going on in the moment were pushed aside. Quite literally, he pushed aside the half naked woman that was on top of him. Not the best form, he realized a second later, and he smiled apologetically at her. "Sorry love, hold on for just a moment," he slipped from underneath her and she giggled as he tripped and fell out of bed. Emma wasn't supposed to be home yet, which was the initial reason he thought bringing home a woman he knew from the coffee shop would be alright. As of late, he had been feeling numb to most things. It was probably due to a combination of Emma being around more than usual, and the slow realization that he hadn't done much with his life since graduating college. He needed to feel something, and sex with a perfectly kind woman was the only relatively safe option he could come up with that didn't require a large sum of money.
Opening the door quickly, he saw her standing at her bedroom door, frozen and tense. "Swan! I, uh, didn't expect you home so soon," Emma turned at this, and his face flushed red as she looked him up and down. He had forgotten to put on pants before he opened the door. "Is everything okay? What's wrong?"
Their eyes met across the room, and an undeniable electricity began to course through the room. The air became thicker somehow, and he struggled to get oxygen into his lungs. The look on her face was one he was not familiar with, which was unusual because he was generally pretty accurate when it came to reading her expressions. There was something different, and his heart picked up a beat when he thought for a moment that perhaps it resembled a look of longing. Jealousy? Lust? Maybe even love. Before he had a chance to definitely place it, though, she shook her head as if to clear her mind.
"I'll give you some space," she said in a strained whisper.
Before he could protest, she walked quickly to the kitchen, picked up her backpack, and went to leave.
It all happened too fast.
The words were on his tongue.
She glanced back at him, and it seemed like she was going to say something and then thought better of it.
Her eyes wide, she opened the door.
He almost asked her to stay.
Almost.
She was gone.
It took a moment for him to come to, and when he did, he rushed back into his room to pull on a pair of sweats. The woman on his bed had a look of utter confusion and disbelief.
"I guess that means this is over?" he heard her say when he went to leave the room.
"Sorry, Ariel," he looked at the redheaded beauty on his bed and almost regretted leaving her there. "Raincheck."
Really, he wasn't sure what he would do if he found Emma downstairs. He only hoped she would understand, or at least let him try to explain. She would understand if she listened, he knew she would. She always did.
When he finally made it down to the parking lot, all he saw was the tail of her car pulling out onto the street.
He had barely missed her.
It seemed to be a common theme in his life, he thought as he kicked a nearby garbage can in frustration.
Slowly, he made his way back inside.
She'll be home soon, he thought as he opened the apartment door to find Ariel gone and an envelope on the floor. We'll talk then. Just a misunderstanding. She'll be home soon. He began to methodically make dinner for both of them, and he put her dinner in the fridge on a plate when she wasn't home by the time it was finished. Turning on an old black and white movie, he collapsed on the couch and tried to ignore the growing sense of dread that began to settle in the pit of his stomach.
The first day, he called her twice. Once to see if he could get a hold of her, the second time to hear her voice on the answering machine.
The second day, he anxiously paced around the library, checking in corners and study rooms she was known to hide out in.
The third day, he checked the coffee shop down the street as well.
The fourth day, he didn't leave the apartment.
Five days.
Five days since she left.
He had called her countless times, and each time the call went straight to voicemail, which he figured was due to the fact that her phone charger was still on her bedside table. But, even then, people can buy new phone chargers. It's not like they aren't sold at every gas station in the world.
He called her friends on the fifth day she was missing, and Anna had confirmed that they had heard from her within the past few days and, no, there was no need to report her as a missing person. At that point in the conversation, Anna handed off the phone to her sister, Elsa, who made her own attempt at talking Killian out of forming an all out search party.
"Killian, she is fine. Do you hear the words I am saying? She's alive," Elsa said patiently into the phone.
"But, where is she?" he replied, not fully comforted by the fact that she was supposedly alive.
"Taking a break. You know how hard these past few weeks have been," she said. "Emma is working on her thesis a bit in an undisclosed location."
There was silence from both ends of the phone.
"I don't want to be the one to tell this to you, Killian," she sighed. "But did you ever consider that maybe she doesn't want you to find her?"
The question felt like a slap across the face.
"I… I don't know…"
"There isn't always sense in it," Elsa said. "But she needs space from many things. You're possibly one of them. Don't take it personally. Give her time. She'll be home when she's ready."
There was nothing proper for him to say in return, so he mumbled a thank you and hung up the phone.
Giving her time would be easier if he could manage to get even a small amount of decent sleep. The same nightmare has been haunting him since the first night she left, images of being lost in endless hallways mixed with the feeling of losing her permanently. It was entirely unbearable.
A/N: Thank you for all the love and support :) The end of my current workload is near, then updates will be more consistent :)
