A/N: Hello again! Killian and Emma are killing me. Damn muses, always acting up. Whatever, hope you enjoy this one! Fun times ahead, I promise.
I listened to 'Reflections' by the Misterwives, 'Luck' by American Authors, 'In My Veins' by Andrew Belle, & 'Poet' by Bastille. Enjoy!
Emma slept far better than she thought she would. Somehow, all of the thoughts in her mind disappeared as she started closing her eyes, allowing her to get the sleep she so desperately needed. In fact, she felt so awake that she didn't even bother with the coffee machine that morning.
Bad mistake.
Here she was, sitting in the coffee shop, waiting for Graham, while downing her second cup.
"Two cups already, Emma?" Graham chuckled, setting his things down, "Impressive."
"Shut up, I didn't have any coffee this morning." Emma grumbled.
"I see." Graham replied with a smile, making Emma furrow her brows as she set her cup back down.
"Why are you making that face?"
"Hm?" Graham smiled, "I'm not making a face."
"You totally were." Emma replied.
"Was not." Graham smiled. Emma couldn't even pretend to be mad at him as she giggled and reached over to hit his arm.
"You're an idiot."
He offered a shrug, making her roll her eyes. At least they were both in good moods. She wished she was in a better one the night before.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you last night." Emma finally admitted, making Graham frown and shake his head.
"I knew you had a bad day. Ruby told me."
"Course she did." Emma groaned, taking a long sip of her coffee.
"Emma, please don't be mad." Graham pleaded, causing her to furrow her brows.
"Why would I be mad at you?" Emma asked.
"I just thought you would because Ruby told me."
"No, that's not your fault, that's hers." Emma shrugged, "Don't sweat it, okay?"
"...Okay."
"You did tell Killian, though." Emma spoke with a raised brow. She smiled as his cheeks reddened and he diverted his attention to his sleeves, "I freaking knew it."
"Sorry." Graham mumbled, "He's my friend, too."
"Oh, yeah, and bros before hoes, right?" Emma mocked, causing him to laugh.
"You know that's not real bro code."
"Oh? Then what is? Humor me." Emma smiled, leaning back into her seat.
"I can't tell you. You're not a bro."
Emma rolled her eyes with a smile, glancing to her watch before grabbing her bag.
"Well, I need to head to class. I'll see you later, I guess."
"Yeah." Graham smiled, "Oh, and you're meeting with Killian tonight, right?"
"Do you guys just have weird guy sleepovers where you talk about everything?" Emma asked incredulously, earning a roaring laugh from Graham, "See you later, Humbert."
She ruffled his curls as she walked by, a smile wide on her face. She promised herself she'd make it a good day.
Luckily, it was a pretty lovely day outside. There was a slight breeze, which felt amazing as she rode her bike. Once she made it to the English building, she parked and locked her bike, then headed up the stairs to the front door. She smiled as she opened the door, only to literally bump into someone. A too familiar someone.
"Ah, fancy seeing you here." Killian smiled, his eyes glancing over Emma's outfit. She didn't feel like putting up with the backlash for commenting on that.
"Oh, yeah, totally random that I'd come here, of all places on campus. It's not like my major is English-based, or anything." Emma spoke with the wave of her hand.
"Right, right." Killian spoke with another smile and the raise of his brows, "You doing anything tonight?"
Emma rolled her eyes at that one. Of course he would. He fucking would.
"Yeah, I'm spending my evening tutoring some idiot athlete."
"Ah, yeah, I just remembered—I'm spending mine with a stuck-up journalist." Killian spoke with a fake smile before pushing past her.
What was that?
"Hey!" Emma called after him, letting the door go and chasing him. He turned at her voice, an eyebrow raised.
"Yes, love?"
"You do not get to call me a 'stuck-up journalist' and get all offended when I call you an 'idiot athlete'!"
"And why is that, Swan?" He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Oh, damn, those biceps. SWAN, GET IT TOGETHER.
"Because you should be able to handle your own medicine."
"For the record, I wasn't offended—I was saving your ass. You'll be late, now." Killian spoke with a smile before turning. Emma looked to her watch with a shriek, spinning on her heel and darting through the hallway.
She would fucking kill him later for that.
"Emma, you're late." Mrs. Mills said as Emma hurried to her seat. Emma could feel her face grow impossibly redder, nodding to her professor.
"Sorry." Emma mumbled, shuffling to get her things out of her bag. Mrs. Mills raised a brow, then continued lecturing.
Emma couldn't focus during the entire lecture. She had to ask Mrs. Mills why she thought it was such a good idea to make her tutor Killian. There better be a damn good reason, she thought.
"Mrs. Mills, I need to talk to you."
"Emma, I have—"
"No, I'm talking to you." Emma said, "I'll make it fast."
The woman rolled her eyes, setting her hands on her hips and giving Emma her attention.
"Why are you making me tutor Killian Jones?" Emma pressed, "And why am I writing a column on the damn lacrosse team?"
"Honestly, Emma? You need a change of pace. You're a good writer, but you play it safe." She replied, "You write about the same thing every time."
Emma felt somewhat offended by her words. She didn't write about the same thing every single time! There was a lot of variation in her work!
"What are you talking about?"
"Emma, you have a lot of potential—so, with potential, you need a challenge to prove that to me." Her editor said, causing Emma to furrow her brows even more.
"A challenge? And you thought the lacrosse team was a good idea?" Emma snapped, "I'm sorry, but that's the dumbest—"
"Let's say I owe Mr. Gold a favor." Mrs. Mills spoke with finality, grabbing her bag and walking out of the room, leaving Emma standing confused.
"A favor?" Emma repeated, though she knew Mrs. Mills was far from hearing range.
Someone was losing a limb. She hadn't decided who yet, but someone was going to pay for this.