A/N Thank you for your patience! Back in January I got depressed and stopped writing. But now that I'm not working (thank you, pandemic) I realized I had the time and energy to pick this back up. And I know a lot of you are probably bored at home and wanting some distraction, and I hope I can do that for you. Thank you so much for the comments, I treasure each and every one. This is probably my favorite chapter, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do. Let me know either way!
~The Captain~
Emma didn't know what she was doing. She only knew she needed warmth, and he provided it. Her hand had a mind of its own as it moved from his chest to the back of his head without her permission. Her fingers were just cold, that's all, she tried telling herself. She didn't believe it. Couldn't even lie to herself.
She certainly hadn't intended on pulling his head closer to hers, or moving her own in a position to face him, but she had done it. Before she realized what she was doing, his lips met hers.
A wave of warmth pulsated through her, starting at her lips and cascading through her body, breaking the ice, thawing her soul, bringing her back to the reality of this devastatingly hot summer day.
The heat was the last thing on her mind. She was overwhelmed with feeling, senses, and it finally clicked what he smelled like. Salt, sea, leather, rum, and rosewood. A delicious combination. She knew in her heart she could never copy how this felt, not with ink, nor paints, not needlepoint. There were no words for fireworks and a shared soul. It was simply beyond.
She drank him up, feeling her need to lengthen this perfect memory, scorching it into her brain for all eternity. She licked his lips without thought and his opened for her. Their lips danced incomparably.
At some point she had moved unconsciously, sitting in his lap with a leg to either side. Her mind was completely gone, any logical thought gone, any contemplation of her actions, gone.
His arms tightened around her waist as they continued this act of purity and bliss. She imagined heaven felt like this. Was she dead? If this was death, she didn't mind at all. She could spend eternity in his embrace.
The familiar pang of needing to breath graced her lunges, and they parted in union, eyes connecting, before their foreheads pressed together in a familiarity she could not name.
Her breathing was heavy and ragged as her mind was coming back to her. Confusion started to cloud her thoughts, and she pulled away, realizing what she just did. Her eyes were wide, taking him in. He looked at her with a look of hope, eyes drinking hers in. He seemed as mentally vacant as she felt.
He was real? He was real. That was real.
She quickly stood, realizing her position on his lap, and he followed suit. She looked in the direction of the clearing. The glorious colors of the land and sky were back. The ship was real, it was just sitting there, albeit a little lopsided. She looked back at the man, in all black leather, save for the red vest. She suddenly realized his left hand was missing, replaced with a hook. She ignored that little tidbit for the time being.
The heat of the day finally caught up with her, and she realized what a perfect day it was for leather.
"Well." She cleared her throat, realizing how hoarse she sounded. "You certainly know how to make an entrance." Emma waved a hand toward the ship.
"Aye, I've been told." There was a spark in his incredibly blue eyes, and a smirk on his lips. He bowed deeply, his arms out wide in a dramatic flourish before standing up straight, taller than her by a head. "Captain Killian Jones." He introduced himself.
"You're a pirate?" She asked with a raised brow, allowing herself to take his image in, from head to toe.
"I've been called much worse." He took a step toward her, she took a step back. "If I were to judge you on your appearance alone, I might assume you were a pirate too… Would you grant me the pleasure of knowing your name, love?"
She looked down at the red leather pants and black vest, remembering how she thought her appearance looked fiercely pirate-like. She suddenly felt embarrassed, but quickly turned the feeling into an attack.
"I'm not your 'love'." She replied, ignoring his question. "What is your ship doing in my clearing?" She asked a bit too loudly.
"Crashing, apparently." He glanced back at it momentarily, shaking his head before turning towards her. "At least you, milady, seem to be doing much better than when I found you."
She raised her eyebrows. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this is land. And I would have been much better off had I not been scared to death of that damn ship flying toward me."
"Aye, true lass." he took another step forward, his smirk widening when she held her ground. "However, I've no idea how we set sail through the stars without my consent, especially with only three men aboard. The rest of my men were left at Port, and I simply wouldn't do such a thing. It's bad form."
She scoffed. "Since when does a ship sail through the stars? And since when have pirates felt concerned about bad form?"
"She's a curious ship, I'll give you that." He paused a moment, eyes sparkling, taking another step forward. "And I'm her curious Captain." If he moved any closer, they would be touching.
"You expect me to believe your ship flew on it's own, through the stars just to arrive on my doorstep, nearly killing me." She knew he was telling the truth, though, as absurd as it sounded. She was impossibly good at telling a lie from the truth.
"You can thank me for that 'nearly' bit. I did carry you to safety."
"I wouldn't have needed you to carry me to safety if your ship had stayed in Port."
"Are you sure about that, love?" He smirked at her obvious agitation to the nickname. "You seemed rather in need of a good warming up, which I provided, and will be glad to provide again if the need were ever to arise." He winked.
She scoffed at that, but he was right about helping her. She just wished he hadn't looked so smug about it, with his eyebrows, and smirk and gorgeous blue-
Before she could finish that thought, The Captain's eyes dimmed, his face turned to a blank expression, and he stumbled a bit before falling to the ground. She knelt down to him, terrified, and not entirely sure why she felt that way. Emma could see the end of a small dagger in his side.
When she looked up, she saw a victorious smile on the lips of the strangely dressed man. Until his eyes met hers, and his face fell rapidly.
