A/N: Yes hello, here is the next chapter! While I'm still debating if this is the last chapter or not (don't worry you're still getting an epilogue eventually, when my jealous mistress law school decides to leave me be) I am pretty proud of this chapter as well. As always, I hope you like it and reviews are always welcome!

Much love!

-Steph

Chapter 13

The few nights ever since David's birthday that Emma has gotten the chance to fall asleep have been minimal and even then she cannot fully say that she has gotten a good night's sleep. All night she tosses and turns, dreaming the same dream, except it isn't a dream it's a memory.

It always starts out the same way. She lies on a bed in a dark room, quietly monitoring her breathing so it matches his. She can see the line of the horizon lighting up with the first glimpse of the morning sun from her window, and she feels him stir underneath the covers, his arm draping itself across her bare stomach subconsciously pulling her closer to him. He tucks his chin on her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck when hot, thick tears start flowing freely down her cheeks, she doesn't want to cry but she can't help it. She never wanted this day to come.

She turns her face towards his and kisses his cheek, making him stir and groggily open his eyes, smile sweetly at her, and be unaware that she feels as if her world is crumbling all around her. He notices though, when he goes to kiss her cheek and he feels the wet tear stains on them. His eyes focus then and he holds her close.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks, his voice dry and sleepy.

"Nothing, I'm just being stupid." She responds, bringing the covers up to her eyes.

"Swan, you're crying. Tell me." He prods, pulling the cover down to focus his blue eyes on her green ones.

"I just…I just don't want to leave." Her voice sounds so small, so vulnerable. She hates it.

"It will all be alright, love. We'll see each other again, sooner than you think."

"But when?"

"I don't know. Soon." She rolls her eyes and makes to look away, but his hand gently tugs at her chin and turns her face towards his. He looks at her with determined eyes, determined to be strong for her, for both of them.

"Hey, I love you. We will make this work." He says before capturing her lips in a kiss, a kiss that deepens quickly and ends with him moving inside of her. Killian towers over her, his hands pinning hers down to the mattress on either side of her head. His lips trail kisses down her neck, biting her lightly on her collarbone. The early morning light shines dimly on his face, making his eyes look like such a pale shade of blue that they're almost transparent. Emma's breaths are short, and her skin shines with a thin layer of sweat. She can feel the heat of her orgasm coil low in her belly; Killian nods encouragingly desperate for her to have her release. Her walls tighten around him, bringing him along with her. They come together for the first time that morning, her name a whisper on his lips. Killian stills inside of her as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck wanting to keep the moment intact, wanting to keep him in her arms forever, wanting this morning to never end.

And that's how the dream ends, with Emma reliving the last moments she shared with Killian back in Ireland before she left back for America. She stares up at her ceiling every night afterwards, remembering how fast their relationship faded away after that. At first they kept up communication as well as they could have with the distance, time difference. They'd send each other emails and call each other every weekend, but as fast as they had gotten together, that's as fast as they lost contact. Killian lost his brother Liam to a drunk driving accident that summer, and after that the emails were less frequent, the calls even more so until one day Emma called him and said that maybe trying to keep their relationship alive was just not worth it anymore. He needed to grieve, Emma couldn't fathom clinging onto hope any longer, and they both needed to move on with their individual lives even if it was apart from each other.

Emma knows the real reason why she can't sleep, why she's so restless, and so anxious: she needs to end whatever she has with August. The night of the party August had walked her home, held her hand on the way back to her apartment, and kissed her outside of her door. She was sure that he was going to spend the night, like he has countless times before, instead he stayed outside her threshold, his hand outstretched towards hers, his fingers laced with her own.

"Swan, wait." He had said.

"What is it? Aren't you coming in? I wore my sexy new underwear." She prodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. After her encounter with Killian, and the amount of drinks she had consumed, she wouldn't have minded some well-deserved sex. August smiled at her, brushing her hair off of her face, giving her a look that Emma could easily pinpoint as that of a person who's falling for the person in front of them.

"Swan, I don't know how I can say this, so I'm just going to say it." August started, clearly nervous.

"What are you talking about?" Emma was nervous too, not liking the direction this was heading in.

"I want more with you. Tonight…tonight showed me that I want to be with you as more than friends, as more than fuck buddies, as more than whatever it is we're doing." He had said quickly, almost a mumble, all in one breath.

"Oh, August…I don't know-" She started but August cut her off promptly.

"No, don't say anything. Think about it, take the weekend and think about it. I know we said that this wasn't serious, that it was just casual and I'll understand if you do not feel the same way. I just want to spend more time with you, Swan. That's all." And with that he kissed her on the cheek and left her standing in her apartment's threshold, wondering what about the whole exchange didn't feel right.

That was the first night Emma spent tossing and turning, trying to sleep but all her mind pictured was August and Killian. She tried counting sheep but it didn't work, her mind was reeling trying avidly to figure out what just didn't click with the whole exchange. She didn't understand, she liked August so why did this feel so wrong? She really, really liked him. He calls when he says he's going to call, he's cordial, and he's funny, he treats her the way she's always wanted to be treated. Then what was the problem? Why wasn't every single cell inside her body screaming their acceptance to August's question? Why did she feel like something was so undoubtedly wrong that there was simply no use with her forcing herself to want to be with him as more than what they already are?

Realization did not hit until the sun started streaming in through the window marking the dawn of a new day. Emma knew why everything felt so wrong; it was because August had called her "Swan" for the first time ever. Her own name felt so strange coming out of his lips, not because it was unwelcome but because Killian was the only one who ever calls her that and on his voice her name was welcome, her name was home.

Yes, August was real and he was tangible, but as much as she could try to deny it, Killian Jones had stolen her heart long before August ever showed up in her life. Killian is whom she wants, Killian is whom she needs, and Killian is whom she loves.

-/-

Emma is freaking out, not about her decision (which of the limited things she is confident about in her life, the decision to end things with August is the one of those she is sure of) but about how long it's taking August to get to her apartment. She wants to get this over with, rip the relationship off like a Band-Aid, so quick that it will hopefully leave their friendship intact. However, that feat is proving highly difficult since he's decided to take the longest time to arrive at her apartment.

She's never done this.

Yes, she runs. Yes, all of her relationships have failed.

But she's never really dumped anyone. Most of the times she just wasn't good enough for the guys she was with and whenever she felt like the relationship was heading somewhere entirely too serious she simply ran, no questions asked.

And let's not talk about her failed marriage, there's really no need to go there. She feels the ghost of her wedding rings on her finger, the familiar feel of anxiety seeping in through every pore, and her thumb instinctively goes to twirl her rings frantically only to remember half a second later that they're not there anymore. She has half a mind to go to the kitchen and open up that new bottle of Riesling she's been dying to try, just to give herself some liquid courage, but the moment she decides to go pop it open, she hears August knock on the door.

Here it is, now or never.

Emma opens the door and it almost breaks her how he looks so incredibly happy to see her. His face looks open and expectant, his lips going towards her cheek as she lets him inside of her apartment. Emma walks behind him into her living room, where she sits next to him on the couch.

"Missed you," August says simply. God, this is going to suck.

"I missed you too." She says. She's not lying, she really did miss him. August was fun to be around, and that's the honest truth.

"So, what did you decide?" Crap, Emma thinks, I guess he wants to jump right into it.

"Straight to the point, I see." She starts, taking a second to compose herself. "August…I really, don't think I'm ready to get into anything serious right now." She blurts out.

Technically, this could be construed as a half-lie. In actuality, she's serious about trying to fix things with Killian and get back together with him as soon as that is able to happen. Truthfully, however, she doesn't know how soon that is going to be. Accordingly, "right now" is an illusory concept of time in which she has no immediate future prospects, so in that Emma is telling the truth. Or maybe she's just full of shit and just wants to let August down easily.

She's total crap at this. This is why she runs.

No, this is why old Emma ran. New Emma doesn't run, she faces her problems head on.

"Okay…so do you need more time? I'd be willing to wait." Shit, she forgot August is extra understanding and considerate.

"August…look, you are incredible. You are, you're just what I needed these last few months. You've helped me so much and I'll always be thankful for you…"Emma starts truthfully.

"But?" August offers, a small rueful smile spreading across his lips.

"I just want to be friends." She lets out flatly, honestly. August sighs and nods his head, seeming to understand.

"You still love him, don't you?" He offers after a while. She could lie, she could evade, and she could completely disregard the question. She debates whether to play dumb or answer him truthfully.

"I do." She said.

"Then, I won't get in the way." He says with finality. He pats his thighs with both of his hands and stands up. Emma looks at him worriedly. Is that it? Was it really going to be that easy?

"Come here, Em." He offers, holding his arms wide open. Emma lets herself be hugged by him, completely befuddled by the whole exchange. He really was too nice for his own good, but that's exactly what she had needed after the long array of disastrous relationships, someone nice and genuinely good for her.

He left after that. August walked right out of Emma's life but for once she didn't feel like their relationship was one that had failed. Yes, it had ended but not because either of them completely messed it up for the other, it had simply run its due course.

Emma sighs contentedly against the kitchen counter. She wasn't terribly relieved that she had ended things with August, but she did feel as if she had done the right thing. Now, he can go ahead and find someone who will truly appreciate what he brings to the table and she can go on living her life focusing on what makes her happy. She takes the Riesling bottle from the counter and deciding to put away the need to drink whenever she felt anxious along with the act of putting the bottle back into the cabinet.

-/-

It's been almost two weeks since Emma broke things up with August and she still hasn't worked up the nerve to walk up to Killian and own up to how she feels about him. Having lunch with Mary Margaret on a Friday she figures out that she needs to get it over with.

But she has to admit that she's terrified to tell him how she feels.

Truthfully, she could have taken the way things ended with August as a progressive fact that she was able to start and end a relationship on a positive note. That she wasn't broken, that in the end she could be brave and smart enough to choose what was right for her. But can she simply let go? It's not like she can control how she feels about Killian. She has to tell him, simply just has to do it...count to three and tell him that she loves him.

Easy.

Her mind is a wreck and she hasn't been able to eat in days, her nerves wrecking her appetite. Mary Margaret scowls at her as Emma pushes around the couscous around her salad plate. Emma has been silent for most of the lunch break, mulling around what she's planning on telling Killian...if she's even brave enough to do anything about it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mary Margaret asks from across the table.

"Nothing." Emma answers.

"I've known you since you were eighteen, I know when something's up." The brunette snaps haughtily. "Fess up."

"I'm just thinking."

"I'm going to need you to talk to me, Emma. I could've just brought a LeanCuisine to the office and be miserable if I would've known how this lunch date was going to go down." Mary Margaret huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning back on her chair.

"Sorry." Emma mumbles, completely enthralled by pushing the mountain of couscous around her plate.

"Talk to me." Mary Margaret whines, snapping her fingers close to Emma's face to get her attention. The woman was insufferable.

"I broke things off with August." Emma tells her finally, earning an eye-roll from Mary Margaret.

"Emma! Why do you always do this? He was so incredible!" She huffs, clearly annoyed.

"Mags, I know…I just didn't love him." Emma responds calmly, this time earning her a tsk from Mary Margaret.

"Emma, you had been dating the guy for like two months I'd be weary if you were in love with him." Mary Margaret tells her plainly, shaking her head.

"No, I mean. He wanted more and I just couldn't give it to him." At this, Mary Margaret becomes even more annoyed, rolling her eyes like she had a decade ago at the Halloween party where Emma had met Killian for the first time.

"Why can't you ever just try?" Mary Margaret huffs again, actually ticking Emma off.

"That's uncalled for. I do try." Emma answers her defensively.

"You do not. You run." Mary Margaret counters.

"Funnily enough, breaking it off with him wasn't me running from commitment." Emma says quietly, pausing for effect.

"What do you mean?"

"Mags, I broke it off with him because I'm still in love with Killian." She answers, looking plainly into Mary Margaret's eyes so she could see that she was serious about it. Mary Margaret looks at her sympathetically and bites her lip.

"I thought you gave up on that." She tells Emma quietly.

"No, I think I'm going to go for it." Emma says quickly shaking her head, attempting to shove the some chicken and couscous into her mouth, failing miserably when she was met with the happy squeal that came from Mary Margaret's direction.

"Oh, my God. Are you serious?" she asks excitedly.

"Does that surprise you?" Emma asks her, mildly humored at her friend's excitement.

"No! I'm just…oh, my god! When are you going to do it? Wait, when did you break up with August? Why are you taking so long to tell Killian? How are you going to do it? You should, like, kiss him at a meeting or in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge like all those early 2000s romantic comedies starring Kate Hudson." In true Mary Margaret fashion, the hopeful brunette had gone off on a tangent completely enthralled by the prospect of Emma and Killian getting back together.

"Mags! Breathe! I don't know how I'm going to do it yet, I'm kind of freaking out." Emma says frantically, grabbing Mary Margaret's flailing hands and pulling them back down onto the table before Granny made them exit the restaurant for making too much noise.

"No! Don't freak out! He likes you too! All he does is ask about you and when you were in D.C. Emma, he was miserable, you can't freak out about this."

"I will. I just want to do this right. I don't want to rush into things, I want to think this through." Emma answers her friend, who looks as if she's about to have an aneurysm.

"No! Don't over think! Do it!" Mary Margaret says loudly, earning both of them a disapproving glare from the patrons sitting next to them.

"Okay! Okay! Christ, Mags. How does David stand you?" Emma concedes, placing a twenty-dollar bill on the table to pay for their lunch and standing up.

"He thinks it's cute that I'm feisty." Mary Margaret shrugs.

"He's deluded, you're the devil incarnate." Emma mumbles, shaking her head.

"Same thing."

-/-

Another week had passed and Emma still hasn't mustered up the courage to tell Killian how she feel and it isn't for lack of opportunity to do so. She sees him every day, more than once. It has been a busy couple of weeks at RCM, the marketing and advertising departments were getting everything ready and working together tirelessly to launch new campaigns for three different movies. Emma also can't use the excuse that she hasn't been able to tell Killian because they're not on speaking terms because that's not the case at all. They have been in speaking terms for longer than a month now and they show up to each other's meetings without the need to send their assistants in their steads.

It's driving Emma crazy that she hasn't been able to just do it. That she's so absolutely terrified of what may happen if she does decide to take the plunge. She is with him every day, almost all day long, even into the long hours of the night trying to put the final touches on the different campaigns. They sit across from each other, Chinese takeout in hand, deliberating the final plans and running them by each other to see if anything needed to be tweaked before running them by Regina and ultimately the general public. For the past few weeks, he has taken her ideas and has made them come to life right in front of her. He and his team have executed all of the plans that she has drafted up almost to perfection and yet she still can't muster the courage to pull him by his suit lapel and kiss him fiercely.

She has to do it.

The very next time she sees him she's going to take the plunge. Emma Swan will not run away, Emma Swan will fall and hope that he'll catch her.

And if he doesn't then she'll just have to stand up and brush herself off and keep walking. Except she doesn't want to think about the possibility of him not catching her.

So let's stop thinking about it, she thinks as she stands up and starts pacing around her office. She sets her sights on the view of Manhattan outside of her window. She realizes that she's probably one of the last people in the whole building. Hell, she had even told Ruby to go home what felt like two hours ago, so who knows how late it actually is.

"I just don't see what's so hard about telling him." She starts, mumbling to herself, her last marketing plan left forgotten on top of her desk. "You just have to say, 'Killian, I love you' and you kiss him. Well, maybe not like that. 'I love you, Killian.' That doesn't sound any better. Ugh, this is so stupid. Why can't I just tell him? 'Killian-'"

"You love me." She freezes as she hears his voice cut hers off. This cannot be happening. This isn't what she had planned.

"Killian." She breathes, as she turns around stunned and embarrassed. "W-What are you doing here?" Really, the guy just walks in on her rehearsing to confess her love to him, and she asks him what he is doing in her office?

"I came to see if you wanted to share a ride home." He offers with a knowing smile, his eyebrow arched impossibly high on his forehead.

She's dead. Emma Swan is no more, due to massive embarrassment the ground has decided to swallow her up whole. He walks up to her, his tongue subconsciously licking his lower lip. He gives her an infuriatingly cocky grin as he walks around her desk and gets closer to her. She wants to kiss the stupid grin off his face.

She hates him, he's insufferable.

"I also wanted to see how you were." He adds, running his thumb across his lower lip. The act is so simple, but it still makes heat radiate from Emma's stomach. She's missed the effect he has on her, the way the simplest gesture can make her heart swell inside her chest.

"Why?" Emma shifts nervously.

"Because I know you're not with September anymore." He says nonchalantly, his blue eyes meeting her green ones candidly.

"August." Emma corrects him, shaking her head and failing at masking the smile that was forming on her lips.

"I don't care." He tells her simply, his smile matching hers.

"Wait, how did you know I broke up with him?" She asks, but Killian just gives her a knowing look and realization dawns on her. "I'm going to kill Mags." Emma sighs. The woman can't keep a secret to save her life.

"How much did you hear?" she asks unable to contain herself. He's now standing so close to her and the back of her knees are touching the edge of her desk after being coaxed against it.

"All of it." He answers, his hand outstretched towards her, his fingers lacing themselves around strands of blonde hair. Emma's eyes flutter shut at the familiar sensation, it's so welcome.

"And?" she breathes.

The only answer she receives is that of Killian's lips being pressed up against hers a millisecond later. It was euphoric to feel his soft lips against hers again, to feel his hands buried inside of her hair until one cradled her neck and the other cupped her cheek. She can't resist moaning into the kiss and she's having a hard time believing that it's actually happening. Killian's mouth leaves hers and starts trailing kisses along her jaw, both of his hands dipping to her lower back and pulling her towards him. He kisses her again, this time gently tugging her bottom lip between his teeth, making her whimper.

"Wait, wait." Emma breathes pulling back slightly. Killian drops his head unto her shoulder with an exasperated sigh. She knows he wants to continue kissing her but she has to get this off her chest first. "I want to know I'm doing the right thing here." She says, still trying to compose herself.

"Don't be daft, love. Of course you are." He says with a smile, locking his eyes with hers. "I love you too, Swan." Emma's unruly stomach does a flip, the butterflies swirling around it frantically. It's happening, this is really happening.

"I know, but I want to be sure. I don't want to rush into anything and I don't want to just jump into what we had last time. I want to do this right, I want to-"

"You want to be properly courted." Killian finishes for her. His mouth breaks into a full-on grin as he alludes to what he had told her the night that they had decided to start the affair. Except now she was free, she was happy, and jumping into something with him wasn't a choice made out of loneliness.

"Yes." She answers him quietly, grinning as wide as he is.

Killian's hands cup her face, caressing her cheeks. His smile is big and genuine; the light reaches his eyes for the first time in the past months. "Good, now that that's settled. Where were we?" Emma shakes her head and grabs him by the lapels of his suit, lightly pulling his lips down to hers where she kisses him ardently. His teeth nip a little harder on her bottom lip, pulling it out slightly and making her moan.

He grins into the kiss and let's his hands travel further down her back until he cups her bottom and lifts her up onto her desk. Screw going slow, Emma thinks as she lets her hands travel up under his shirt and his tongue seeks entrance into her mouth, this feels wonderful. She wraps her legs around his middle, pulling his noticeably aroused self deeper against her aching core. God, she wants him. She wants him right here on this desk.

Killian seems to feel her desperation and her wanton disregard for professional etiquette and pulls away from her. He kisses her forehead, his panting breath hot against her skin, and he uncrosses her legs from around his midriff.

"Coffee, tomorrow?" he breathes, his forehead pressed against hers.

"Coffee sounds great." She answers just as breathless, feeling incredibly void as he steps away from her and takes all the warmth that she felt with him.

"Did you still want to catch that ride home?" He asks her as they walk down the lobby towards the exit, his fingers ghosting around hers. He smiles at her when she laces their fingers together and gives him a reassuring squeeze.

Finally.

"With you? Always."