Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story, for reviewing and favoriting and reading; all the effort was worth it. Enjoy!
April 14th 2004. (Emma is 30, Killian is 24)
Emma finds herself in a back alley, kneeling behind a Dumpster almost on top of a homeless person who smells like the distillery and luckily doesn't wake up when she moves away.
Her heart is hammering in her chest as she steals the coat draped over a ratty shopping cart, and although she feels awful for her act, she ignores the guilt because she is probably hours or less from a certain death anyway; karma has it for her no matter what she does.
It's only as she's exiting the alley that it occurs to her that she could have just been murdered over a coat so she lengthens her steps and heads for the nearest parking lot.
Boston is still sleeping, the sun only just rising, and Emma feels like the last woman on Earth, wandering around an abandoned city.
She passes by a bus stop and stops dead in her tracks because there's an ad for Killian's first and only exhibit, and the digital display across the street tells her that it's today.
Emma feels a chill run down her spine because this feels like too big a coincidence to be anything but a sign, and she feels like she's standing in front of a fork in the road, one path leading to salvation and the other one to doom.
The only trouble is, she doesn't know which is which, so she delays her decision and goes to steal a car instead.
A few hours later Emma is sitting on a park bench eating ice-cream and watching the clouds drifting across the sky, enjoying the sun on her face and trying to figure out what to do.
If Emma had been faced with the same choice before she had first met Killian she wouldn't have a dilemma; she would just stay far away from him because he didn't know her before his accident, and therefore, their meeting would have untold consequences Emma wouldn't dare risk.
The sky is almost as blue as Killian's eyes and Emma can practically hear his voice in her head telling her to take a leap of faith, to take charge of her own fate for once.
Logically, it would make the most sense to do something completely different than her usual, but she's still afraid, everything in her rebelling against the idea of tempting fate after a lifetime of avoiding conflict.
The image of Leo's dimpled smile flashes in her mind and she realizes that there's just one thing she can do if she ever hopes to see him and Killian again.
She has to fight and that means going to see her husband's paintings tonight.
"I'm coming for you, Killian Jones", Emma says under her breath and fingers the wad of cash in her pocket, her lips stretching into a wry smile as she exits the park.
Emma spends the afternoon shopping for a perfect dress and shoes, then sneaks into a gym and uses their bathroom to get ready, her resolve strengthening the longer nothing happens to her; she's starting to believe that she's doing the right thing, and it's a heady feeling to finally do what she wants instead of what she thinks she should to appease the universe.
When she gets to the gallery she feels like she's got butterflies in her stomach, and she's glad that there's a lot of people already there even though she's the only one who bothered with a fancy dress.
It should make her feel uncomfortable, but she feels bold and ready to face anything, except Killian, so she focuses on his paintings instead.
She still remembers the day he had finally shown them to her, how he looked at her from under his eyelashes and held his breath for her reaction, his smile the brightest thing in the world when she called them beautiful.
"You either really like that one or you absolutely hate it", Killian says and Emma turns slowly, half-expecting lightning to strike when she finally lays eyes on him.
He is twenty-four years old, his eyes are sparkling with mischief and he still has both hands, but he is her Killian and she is his Emma and in that moment, the rest of the world simply ceases to exist.
"Killian Jones", he introduces himself and they shake hands, a spark jumping between them when he holds her hand slightly longer than necessary.
"Emma Swan", she says and turns back toward the painting, resolute to play it cool and see how tonight goes. "I love this one."
"Go out with me and it's yours", Killian says and she laughs, temping down the sudden urge to kiss his bashful smile and drag him somewhere private.
"Does that line actually work on women?"
"You tell me. I've never used it before you, love", Killian tells her and scratches behind his ear with his left hand, her eyes following the motion greedily before she remembers herself and tells him she's just passing through, so she doesn't have anywhere to put his painting. "I'll set it aside for you until you're ready to take it."
Emma smiles and bites her lip, trying to look like she's thinking it through, enjoying the way he rocks on his heels in anticipation.
"Alright, I guess."
"Tomorrow night?"
"I'm only here tonight", she says with a shrug and it's her turn to hold her breath to see if he's willing to leave his own exhibit just so he could spend time with her even though she just told him she's leaving soon.
"What are we waiting for, then?" He asks and holds out his hand, Emma's fingers tingling even before they come into contact with his; once they do there's a flutter inside her and she knows without a doubt that she had just changed her future.
She doesn't know if it's for better or worse, but looking at Killian's profile as he leads her through the gallery casually saying goodbye to his surprised friends, Emma can't help thinking that everything is going to be okay.
"Well then. Where do you wish us to go?" Killian asks when they exit the gallery, still holding her hand and looking at her as if he'd never seen anything as beautiful as her face.
"Surprise me."
"Would it be too presumptuous of me to take you home so that I can paint you?" He asks with a sheepish smile that warms Emma up inside even before he shrugs out of his leather jacket and drapes it around her shoulders.
"Just a tiny bit", Emma tells him and points out the fact that they've just met. "You could be a serial killer."
"Three dozen people just saw you leaving with me, and even if they hadn't I wouldn't dream of hurting you", Killian says and he looks slightly offended that she could think him capable of such an atrocious act.
"How about you buy me a drink first and we see how that goes?" Emma says and walks backwards in the direction of the closest bar, pulling him along.
"As you wish", Killian agrees and caresses the back of her hand with his thumb as they walk, then playfully asks her if she knows where she's going.
"I know this city like the back of my hand", Emma reassures him and he lifts an eloquent eyebrow, making her remember that she had told him she's just passing through. "Don't worry, Jones. I won't get us lost."
"I wouldn't mind getting lost with you, Swan", he shoots back and oh how she loves him like this, so carefree and smooth and endearing at the same time.
"Maybe someday you will", she tells him softly and swings their arms as they walk, coming up with the usual fantastical answers to his questions that made him grin when he was in hospital and make him laugh now, the sound rumbling through her and making her feel content even with the threat hanging over her head.
She's with Killian, and that's what she chooses to focus on instead of letting the fear ruin what might very well be her last night on Earth.
It takes Killian exactly two drinks to convince Emma to go home with him (or, rather, she stops fighting herself and gives in) and another to loosen her up enough to pose for him lying down on the couch.
He doesn't have a studio but he's got a studio apartment that's full of canvases in various stages of completion, and most of the furniture he owns looks older than the two of them put together with streaks of paint on every piece.
"Take off your shoes", Killian instructs her and Emma gives him a sideways look but complies anyway before settling down on her side, her head resting on her outstretched arm and her hair spilling over the edge of the couch. "You are absolutely stunning like that, Swan."
"Just like this?" She teases and it amuses her immensely that it's so easy to make him blush, turn him from a cocky dreamboat into a shy artist in the blink of an eye.
"Try to stay still", Killian tells her and arranges her hair to his liking, their faces inches apart because he's kneeling next to the couch; it would be so easy to reach for him and pull him down for a kiss but Emma feels that it's important that Killian paints her first so she obeys his instructions, watching him paint and thinking how she's never going to get tired of it.
There's a frown etched between his dark brows and his eyes are sharp and bright, but what makes him so beautiful is the look of deep concentration on his face as he creates something wonderful using just paint and his own talent.
Killian looks at Emma differently when he paints, making her feel oddly exposed, but it's him so it's not a bad feeling; if anything, it's strangely liberating, and it makes her feel lighter, all her troubles brushed away by her artist's loving hand.
"Falling asleep on me, love?" He asks her softly and she blinks, realizing that she actually was.
"Sorry."
"It's alright. We can take a break", he says and sets down the brush, sitting next to her on the couch and tracing her cheek with his knuckles, his eyes watching hers to gauge her reaction.
He is so very young, his eyes so very blue with hopeful wonder, with adoration that would be suspicious if it were coming from anybody but him, and Emma feels something loosen in her chest, the torment of years and years of fear and pain erased because no matter what happens, she was here, and more important, she was loved.
She was so loved.
Emma leans into Killian's touch and covers his hand with hers, giving him unspoken permission to kiss her the way she knows he wants to, her eyes fluttering closed when he starts leaning down, the touch of his lips to hers sending an electric charge through her body.
They've kissed a thousand times before and they've had several first kisses, but this one feels special, epic and breathtaking and so heavy with purpose neither can understand.
It is a kiss that defies both death and time, a kiss that makes the universe pay attention for once and changes Emma's fate.
She wraps her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him down, sighing when he embraces her and pushes his knee between her legs, holding her as close and possible and still kissing her, setting her skin on fire and making the world stop turning for just an instant, before it starts again, different and brand new.
Killian makes love to her gently, driving her crazy with slow strokes and endearments whispered against her ear, their fingers entwined above her head as he thrusts into her, his gaze filled with such awe she can't help a blush that colors her cheeks and makes him even more enthusiastic to bring her to completion first.
Afterwards, they lie quietly on his narrow couch, their noses brushing together and their eyes closed, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.
Emma can tell exactly the moment he falls asleep and she snuggles deeper into his embrace, so sated and pleasantly aching that she doesn't even attempt to fight her own exhaustion.
She doesn't know what tomorrow will bring, but she's got faith that she's going to live to see it because she had picked the right path.
The one that lead to Killian.
The one that lead to love.
The one she would take a thousand times over, no matter the consequences.
Review?