Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for favoriting and subscribing! It means a lot to me that so many of you guys are enjoying this story...even when I am not the most reliable with my updates. But this chapter is a long one so maybe that will make up for it!

Chapter Seven – 50 Days Left

"Bullocks mate. I am canceling on Regina this instant."

How had Robin forgotten today was July 13th?

"No you bloody aren't you git. Liam would want at least one of us to be happy."

Robin stood statue still at the edge of the living room, phone held in his hand. He was now convinced he would not be seeing Regina tonight. Killian sat on the plush couch in an awkward position. His clothes looked clean but it was clear he had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before. "Killian, I-"

"I know mate. But she will be waiting." Killian shifted his legs, feeling more uncomfortable than he looked. He no longer wanted the attention on him so he deflected the conversation, "How are you two getting on?"

At this moment Killian didn't really care to discuss his cousin's relationship but anything was better than focusing on Liam.

There was always a dull ache in his chest whenever he thought about his older brother. But on this day every year, without fail, the ache turned into a full-blown, heart-wrenching stab. Maybe it was the fact that another year had passed and Liam should be a year older. Seven years later and Liam would be thirty-one now.

Killian would never get over the fact that Liam never got to experience the things he looked forward to most.

Though he was only 24, Liam Jones was always a hopeless romantic. The pub scene was never for him, rather, preferring a quiet cafe or book store to meet women. He dreamed of a grand love story. Something Jane Austen would be inspired by. He wanted to settle down in a small cottage with a white fence. It wouldn't be much but it would be theirs.

Killian always gave Liam a hard time whenever he would audibly daydream of those things. Killian never understood why someone as young, good looking and successful as his brother would want to skip the fun part of life and go straight to the boring stuff.

And now he would never get the chance. He would never see Liam on his wedding day, shedding a tear as his beautiful bride walked down the aisle. He wouldn't see Liam become a father, holding his first child in the hospital. Killian would never see Liam get old and sail the seas as he was meant to be.

That's what got Killian the most. The thing that burned his throat and pricked at the back of his eyes. Liam deserved to be a husband and a father. He deserved to nag Killian into settling down and finding 'the one' someday. He deserved that perfect house with the perfect little fence in front. He deserved all of that and so much more.

But he would never be anything more than a 24 year old with a far off dream and a tragic ending.

"We're fine." Robin's curt voice brought Killian back to their conversation.

Masking his internal battle, Killian scoffed, "Come off it mate, you're bonkers for the lass."

Killian knew Robin was utterly head over heels for the waitress but his cousin had yet to articulate such.

Their friendship had developed ten fold from the innocence of a month ago. Which Killian found strange because Robin didn't have friendships with women. Especially women like Regina Queen. But here he was, the picture of a perfect gentleman, no signs of ill intent. But Killian knew his cousin and that look in his eye was anything but friendly.

Killian had also gotten to know Regina some in their time at the Plaza and he knew something was there. She was intelligent, more than she was letting on. But she was also outwardly adventurous and optimistic of the world. She was a dreamer with a hint of ambiguity. And she had hooked Robin from day one.

It didn't help the man's case that she was breathtakingly beautiful. That, of course, being what initially drew Robin to her but now he could see she was so much more. And he hadn't even scratched the surface.

Robin blushed at Killian's accusatory comment, "Sod off," was all he could manage.

Killian stayed silent, goading his cousin into continuing. Robin only sighed, "I don't know what you want me to say mate."

Again, Killian didn't say anything.

Grunting his annoyance, Robin drug his palms over his face, he hated when Killian did this to him. "You want me to say she's bloody perfect? That she's literally the only girl to see me and not my name or money? That she makes me look at the world differently? Makes me want to be a better man? Fine! You happy? I'm bloody bonkers for her you stupid arse!"

Silence pressed between the two. That is, until Killian burst out into a loud, thick laugh. He doubled over from his spot on the couch, clutching his stomach as his laughter filled the penthouse.

Robin's tanned faces turned 20 shades of pink at his cousin's reaction. "Oh fuck you Killian."

"No no," Killian said, trying to catch his breath, "I'm sorry! I should have been writing that all down to send off to Nicholas Sparks for his next novel." Another round of chuckles ensued at Killian's jab.

If it had been any other day of the year Robin would have punched him right in the jaw. But he was glad Killian was laughing, even if it was at his expense.

Robin hadn't really planned to admit those things tonight. Or ever. Didn't make them untrue though. Damn Killian and that stupid stare of his.

But he was right; Robin had fallen for the waitress. But their relationship was complicated, to say the least. They were friends. Which still didn't sound like the right word for it. Granted, Robin didn't have many—or any—female friends so for all he knew this could be normal. But if he was reading Regina correctly, she too felt something deeper than a platonic camaraderie for the man.

They hadn't shared more than a brush of the arm since their initial flirtatious behaviors at the Jolly Rodger at the start of the summer. And the tension was palpable—sparks flying through the air every time they were next to each other. But he refused to push her. The air around her was unlike anything he had seen before. She was not a one-night-stand type of girl. And for the first time in his life he was getting to know a woman passed her preferred libation. And it was...nice.

He was a gentleman...even if that realization had only come recently.

Robin was happy that Killian was no longer throwing insults at him but that left the room with a tense feeling. For a moment, Robin didn't know how to proceed. As he opened his mouth to speak, Killian beat him to the punch. "Well you enjoy your night with the lass. I'm going to go get some work done at the cafe down the street." Without waiting for a reply, Killian was out the door and gone.

Of course Robin knew it was a lie. But he didn't care to stop his cousin. Killian always did this on July 13th, make up some plan and disappear for the night. He wanted to be alone in his sorrows. The first few years Robin worried that he would end up in a ditch or in the drunk tank but Killian would always be there come July 14th, like clockwork.

"Stupid. Like honestly?" Emma mumbled under her breath.

She was wiping down the bar of the dimly lit hotel lounge. She tried to take her frustration out on the few stains that remained from the lunch crowd with no avail. Although she had left Regina in their room three hours ago to start her shift, Emma was still fuming at her cousin's utter disregard.

She was going out with Robin. Again. Like they hadn't just had that major discussion less than a week ago.

Tonight, there was only more cryptic advice from Emma and more "I'm an adult" bullshit from Regina. Emma had hoped her shift in the lounge would take her mind off of her cousin but it was a Monday night, a slow Monday night, and she only had two customers—a couple in their 60s sitting closely in the corner booth giggling and sharing sweet kisses.

They reminded her of her parents. Although her parents were a few years younger, they were still very much in love after decades of being together.

She missed them, more than she would voice. She was still annoyed they had sent her here. But she begrudgingly knew they were just doing what they thought was best.

The company had grown immensely since Emma was born. Years ago Grandpa George and Uncle Henry had taken their small business loan and turned it into one of the biggest freight companies in the world. Then, with decades of success under their belt, David and Mary-Margaret took the opportunity to branch out into other business ventures—commercial real estate and then eventually clothing design.

Nolan-Mills was a multifaceted success worth billions of dollars and Emma would soon be majority shareholder.

But somehow getting someone's drink order wrong scared her more.

"What must a man do to get a drink around here?"

The low lilting voice of Killian Jones surprised Emma. Her back had been turned away from the counter as she polished the clean glasses and she was caught off guard. That didn't happen often and now goose bumps ran down the backsides of her legs in embarrassment. Thankfully, her lower half was covered by fitted black slacks, keeping her secret to herself. Her nightly uniform was finished off with a simple emerald green polo with the Plaza's logo on the left breast.

As she finally turned to greet the Brit she noticed something was off. He sat there slumped against the bar counter, all familiar light gone from his face. There was a small smile gracing his pale pink lips but it did not reach his eyes. He seemed to be staring through her as if he was somewhere else entirely.

She noted his demeanor but decided it would be best not to comment. She would consider them friends, as much as she tried to avoid that idea, but she didn't feel it appropriate to push the boundaries of their acquaintance. The women still had Operation Boy Toy to complete, so Emma played it safe.

"What can I get you Jones?"

"Rum."

Rum? She served him drinks everyday and never once had he requested rum. But again, Emma did not comment.

Grabbing the bottle of Sailor Jerry and a tumbler from the shelf behind her, Emma turned back to pour the drink. Just as she was about to top off the customary one ounce of liquor, Killian's hand was on hers. Fire ran up her arm and she switched her gaze to the man in front of her. His eyes, however, were hooded, focused only on the continual pour of liquid dropping into his glass. In an instant the bottle was removed from her hand and was placed next to him, signaling he would be holding onto it for now.

Emma cocked a blonde eyebrow in confusion but continued her silent streak. Sensing he wished to be alone, she slowly walked down to the other end of the counter, aimlessly cleaning the same spots she had an hour ago.

Checking her phone under the counter, Emma had just under an hour to go until Ruby would be arriving to take over her shift. Unsurprised, she had zero notifications. It was past her parents' bedtime on the east coast and Regina would have nothing to say to her until tomorrow.

She was still adjusting to the fact that her iPhone was no longer blowing up with phone calls and emails regarding Nolan-Mills business. It was total and utter radio silence.

After a few minutes Emma made her way over to the elderly couple. She did not want to interrupt them but she still had a service to provide. She tried to make as much noise as she could as they continued to smooch in the booth. Finally, clearing her throat to make her presence known, the couple quickly split apart and giggled in embarrassment.

"I think we are ready for the check Emma," the grey haired man commented, grabbing hold of his wife's hand under the table.

Smiling warmly at the two, Emma took the check from the front of her short apron and handed it to the man. Turning to give them privacy to pay, she was stopped by the man's voice again, "We don't need any change." They were out of the lounge before Emma could even them give her thanks.

As she was walking back to the register to close the couple's bill, Emma noticed Killian was pouring his second tumbler of rum. The fact that it hadn't been more than fifteen minutes peaked her curiosity. And worry.

"Ok what is the deal?" She tried her best not to sound over-critical.

"Nothing." Emma didn't need her internal lie detector to know this was not nothing.

"I don't believe you." She crossed her arms in determination; she was committed to this now.

"Ok." His voice was indifferent as he raised the glass of amber liquid to his lips. In two large gulps the glass was empty again. Emma's resolve slacked in disbelief as Killian reached for the bottle again to refill his drink.

Reaching out Emma grabs the bottleneck to stop any more rum from pouring into his glass. Killian's eyes flash up to hers. They were steel gray and dull; void of any sign of the usual life that filled the blue orbs.

"Leave it be Swan." She couldn't tell if he meant the conversation or the bottle but the darkness of his voice only pushed her further.

"Killian." Her voice is soft, pleading.

The sound of his name coming from her lips jolting him. That may very well have been the first time she used his first name in conversation. Usually she relied on Jones…or idiot. As he stared into her deep jade eyes his grip on the rum loosened.

Unable to hold her earnest gaze, Killian moved his eyes back to his empty tumbler and awkward silence greeted them both.

"Talk." She said as she grabs her own tumbler from behind her and poured herself a splash of rum. She hated the stuff but her hands needed to move.

Silence continued to engulf them but Emma's gaze only persisted.

"Liam never wanted any part of the business. He did not care for wealth or reputation in the corporate world. He knew he wanted to serve the Queen from a young age. So when he turned eighteen he enlisted in the Royal Navy. It was everything he dreamed of. Being on the open water everyday and having a purpose in life. He served for six years. I didn't see him much in that time but he would do his best to call and visit when the ship was docked. After his tour he decided to take a short vacation before re-enlisting.

"It was a Monday. Liam wanted to go sailing with me but I was too caught up in my own bullshit to make the time for him. The skies were blue that morning. The storm wasn't on anyone's radar. It came out of nowhere. But by the time I knew he was caught in it-…I called the coast guard. They received a distress signal from his boat and were already looking for him.

"He was the most skilled seaman I knew but even he couldn't handle that storm alone. I should have been there with him. I should have-"

The pressure of Emma's soft hand on his forearm stopped his next guilt-ridden thought. His throat was constricted and the back of his eyes were burning. If he had kept talking he would have surely cracked the glass in his vice grip.

The warmth of her whisper called Killian to look into her emerald stones, "Liam wouldn't want you thinking like that."

She could feel the sting of unshed tears at the corners of her own eyes. It did not take long to recall the connection. Liam Jones, first son of Brennan Jones and older brother of Killian Jones. Decorated naval commander and war hero. He died a few summers back on the water. His body was never found. She remembered all the headlines and the televised funeral on the BBC Networks but listening to Killian recall the entire thing... And she knew he blamed himself. Her heart broke for his loss.

Seconds passed as they continued to stare at each other, Emma's hand still on his exposed arm.

"Come on," she said quietly as she grabbed their tumblers and made her way around the edge of the bar. He only continued to sit there, his body now slightly turned as she walked around to his side of the counter.

"Where are we going?" a shade of blue had returned to his eyes but his voice was still somber.

"Trust me, it will be a lot smoother if you do." She did her best to mimic his signature smirk to lighten the mood. She reached out her left hand to him, waiting for him to oblige.

Rubbing the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, he caved and placed his right hand in hers as she led him out of the lounge. Ruby would be clocking in any minute and there wouldn't be any harm if she left a little bit early, right?

The walk from the Plaza to Roxbury Park was not far but with Emma's hand still in his own, each step felt like an eternity. An eternity he did not mind spending in her presence.

They had remained silent from the moment they left the lounge. He was curious at first to where she was leading him but he soon recognized the large park's entrance.

It was not the most beautiful park in Southern California but it was the best Hollywood could offer.

He continued to stay quiet as they walked through the short grass to the open field. It was dark in the center of the grass as none of the street lamps' light reached that far into the area. Abruptly, Emma stopped but continued to stare out in front of them into the abyss of public land.

"Someone once told me that we cannot let our demons win." The sound of his own words coming from her sweet lips for the second time made his chest fill. For the first time the pain of losing Liam was not as apparent as every other year he indulged the sorrow.

Releasing his hand, Emma made her way to lay face up on the soft grass. He could feel a puzzled look on his face as she gave no explanation to her actions.

"You're a sailor right? Show me some constellations."

The statement was so sincere that Emma would never know what it meant to him. It was something that Liam and he shared as young boys, staying up late on their voyages and stargazing until dawn. Liam was the best storyteller and could entertain young Killian for hours with astrological tales. Again the pain of loss shrunk away and only memories of joy filled Killian's heart.

"Normally, I prefer to do other, more enjoyable, activities with a woman on her back…" Killian could not resist the easy jab the woman beneath him set up. And, although she gave him a look of annoyance, the small smile on her rosy lips told him she was glad his playful banter had returned.

"…but as the lady wishes."

They laid there for what seemed like hours and Emma was now thankful for the radio silence. Killian's lilting voice no longer held the regretful sorrow it had in the hotel's bar, but instead, it was light and smooth as he shared the countless myths of the constellations in the sky.

"Tell me your favorite tale of the stars." She didn't know when, but at some point the two had shifted so close together that their sides were flush against each other. Calf, thigh, hip, shoulder—they all felt warm as Emma longed for that warmth to cover her entire body and not just the right side of her body.

Killian's right arm was tucked behind his head in a makeshift pillow as his left was used to point out the different pictures in the sky. But at Emma's request, he placed it back down at his side, brushing her as it rested between them now.

In reality, the story that instantly came to the front of Killian's mind was Liam's favorite. But over the years of his older brother retelling it, it slowly crept its way to make a home in Killian's heart.

"Some sailors believe that we are all born of the stars. From the beginning of time, each person born once had a home in their own celestial body. They were to wait there until the god's decided what their fate was to be. So depending on the star you were born from, that would help determine your destiny. Some stars burn bright but fade quickly. Others are faithful and reliable, used to navigate journeys. And still others are so far away that they are all but forgotten expect by the chosen few.

"The true heartbreak, though, is that of the stars that are crossed. When deciding a star's destiny the gods were not always kind. Some stars are designed to meet, but only briefly, as they continued on their journey through the sky. And the offspring of those stars often feel the same misfortune—destined to experience this love but lose it soon thereafter."

"From forth the fatal loins of these two foes. A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life." Emma quoted from the first act of Romeo and Juliet.

Killian smiled softly as he turned his head slightly towards the blonde lying next to him, "Shakespeare befriended some sailors in his day."

Hearing his voice closer to her ear now, Emma only continued to stare straight into the sky, "That is your favorite story? Seems sad."

"Ah, you did not let me finish. Although some souls are destined for tragedy, some lovers are graced with the greatest of fates…"

She waited for him to finish his sentence but when it never came she finally turned her gaze to meet his, "Which is?"

Another beat passed as all the ferocity of his blue eyes had returned and the darkness around them closed in even more.

"Being born of the same star."

My inspiration for that last part was from an Emery Allen quote which may or may not make an appearance in later chapters. I know exactly where this story is going but the journey to get there is long and hazy so please be faithful! I WILL finish...someday!

Review!