A/N: Here's the fourth chapter. The updates will come less frequently after this one, but don't worry. You won't have to wait several months before a new chapter comes out. Oh and this is the last chapter before the angst takes control. Just a warning ;) Hope you like it.
He wakes up and for the first time in a while the empty feeling is gone.
A new day is finally exciting instead of dreading.
He takes his time to get out of bed, slowly removing its blue cover. He feels a cough coming up and when it does, it sounds like he has been smoking since childbirth. His throat burns and feels like a dry desert that hasn't seen any rainfall for years.
The winter cold, in combination with the rain that decided to crash their date, has brought its toll.
After another coughing session, Killian leaves his warm den in search of a remedy.
He should have some coughing syrup or some throat tablets lying around in his bathroom. He opens every cabinet and goes through nearly every drawer in the light green room, without success. Some water will have to do.
Killian doesn't actually mind the soreness.
The evening he had makes it all worth.
Emma opened up, to his surprise, and exposed a small part of her tale. He now knows more about Henry and his passion for books and video games and about her job and the idiots she encounters daily. She even told him bits of her past.
Killian hopes that he can show her that she can trust him and that both of their lives have been difficult.
He takes another sip of his glass while looking out of the window.
The street is alive with people dressed in business suits. Killian despises how they all wear black. He has nothing against the color, he's rather fond of it, but after a while, it starts to remind him of a funeral.
When he opened the café, he instantly decided that they would not have a dress code, but that everyone, well, only he at that time, could wear whatever they wanted, but no more than one black piece of clothing at a time.
Aurora was delighted by his decision when she came on board and surprised Killian with the amount of pink clothing she owned.
He, for one, was more prone to the color blue, which was also quite visible in his wardrobe.
A car honk brings Killian back to the image in front of him. In the mass of black suits, one person stands out. The mailman. Time to check his mailbox.
He sets his glass on the table and goes downstairs.
A small, metal key is fished out of his front pocket. Killian opens one of the identical boxes and goes through the content.
Advertisements, some more bills to pay and a letter from Liam.
He smiles and hurries back to his flat, taking two steps at a time. A lot of people would find it odd that he and his brother still communicate via written letter in this day and age, but Killian quite likes it.
It's far more personal than text messages and it isn't interrupted by the time difference like Skype calls.
The only disadvantage is that it takes about two weeks before a letter arrives, but the brothers don't mind that.
He opens the white envelope and takes the letter out of it. When he unfolds it, a picture falls out. He bends to pick it off the wooden floor. It's a picture of the northern lights.
What do you think of it, little brother? is written on the back and the first thing Killian thinks is that Liam should stop calling him little brother.
He turns it back around and Killian stares with awe.
His brother is a photographer and quite an exquisite one, may he say. He travels around to take pictures of nature in its various forms and not so long ago he returned from a trip to Scandinavia.
Sometimes, when he sees pictures, Killian is jealous of his older brother.
The fact that Liam gets paid to travel around the world and to visit stunning places is difficult to wrap his head around. But Killian is also always proud of the masterpieces Liam takes.
He has an entire collection of his brother's oeuvre hanging on his fridge. This one gets a place in the middle and Killian returns to the letter.
It says that he has gotten an offer from National Geographic to make a coverage. He doesn't know about what yet, but he's clearly very happy.
Killian smiles and immediately starts writing a response. The blank sheet of paper fills with blue words of congratulation and his swirly font also tells about the nearly finished renovation.
Should he also mention Emma?
He taps his pen on his table while considering. After some time of weighing his options, a small scratch has appeared on the table and Killian makes a decision. It might be soon, but it will take two weeks before the letter even arrives and a lot can happen in two weeks.
Killian continues writing, telling all about the gorgeous blonde in his life. He writes his goodbye and signs his name. The folded letter goes into its envelope and Killian fills in the address, that he knows by heart after penning it down countless times. He searches for the international stamps and sticks one on the corner of the square.
His throat starts to ache again and he crosses the room to his half-full glass of water. He passes the clock on the way there and his eyes widen when he sees what it shows.
8:55.
Bloody hell, he's going to be late.
In a record pace, he grabs his coat and satchel. He throws his keys and phone in there and takes the letter with him to post it on the way. He runs down the stairs, nearly knocking over Graham, the Irish man that lives one story above him.
"Wow!" his neighbor says.
"Sorry, mate, but I'm late for work."
Graham nods understandingly and gives Killian more passage.
Killian could, technically, come late to work and there'd be no one who could say anything about it, but he doesn't like that. It would be incredibly unfair to his employees and if Killian despises something, that's it.
"Sorry, boss, but you are..." Tink looks at her watch. "12 minutes late."
"Apologies, lass. It will not happen again."
Killian takes one of the aprons and ties it around his waist.
"I'm guessing that your date went very well. Is that the reason you're late? Did she stay over?"
She winks at him.
"Tink!"
Killian looks disapprovingly at her and picks up a paint brush. After a while, Tink talks again.
"I'm sorry, but I have to know. How did your date with Emma go?"
"It was good. We ate and talked and it was great."
Killian pretends like the date went okay, when in reality it was amazing and ideal and in no way could it have been more perfect.
He knows better than to use those adjectives in the presence of Tink.
"Did you kiss?" She continues the interrogation and Killian doesn't know how to answer this question.
He doesn't want to lie to her, but what else can he say?
When Tink's face becomes shocked, he knows he waited too long.
"You totally did! Wow, I need to tell Aurora this. She's going to flip."
She points her brush at him. The paint on the tip matches the color of her sweater, but the gesture has too much excitement in it and a few green splatters appear on his apron. She mutters a silent whoops.
"Tink. This is too much. I'm still the owner here and your boss."
He emphasizes the and.
"I get that you're curious, but I have to draw a line somewhere."
They have become friends, but it isn't very professional to discuss his personal life during work hours, even if there are no customers there.
Tink places her hand on his shoulder and looks at him.
"I understand, Killian. But just so you know, I'm happy for you. I really am."
She smiles at him and he smiles back.
"Let's finish this thing so that we can reopen soon. You mentioned Aurora earlier. May I ask where she is?"
"She went to print posters she made to promote the café. They look wonderful, she showed them to me yesterday."
"Oh, great. I think we should be able to open on Friday."
And the subject was back.
"Are you going to invite Emma?" Tink says with a teasing tone.
He looks at her.
"Really, lass?"
"Come on. It's just a question."
She tries to defend herself. Killian shrugs.
"She probably has to work. She has a busy schedule."
"Just ask her. The worst answer you can get is an "I can't make it""
Tink has a point and when they finish the wall, he sends her a text.
"If you want something for that cough of yours, I have these lemon sweets that seriously do magic," Tink says while wiping her hands on her apron.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
She returns and hands them to Killian. Her look scans the room.
"What else do we have to do in here?"
Emma still hasn't responded and it's been three days.
Normally, he wouldn't really worry if it took someone a bit longer to answer, but it's Emma. Her replies are always sent within five minutes of receiving the message.
Why isn't she answering now?
He decides to write another one.
Hi, Emma. I don't know if you've seen my first text, but you definitely don't have to feel obligated to come to the opening. If you're not up for it or you're too busy, I understand. I must mention that there will be a lot of hot chocolate and it might be free for regulars ;)
He deletes the winky face, it's too out of character for him and off the text goes. Tink was wrong.
The worst answer he could get was the lack of one.
Friday.
The big reopening of "A Cup of Jones". The place looks stunning. Tink really did a good job.
They all did.
Without the teamwork they used, it would probably have taken far longer to reopen. He goes over the list in his mind one more time. It seems that everything is in order. He rearranges the magazines on the main table one last time so that the one featuring Liam's pictures is on the top of the pile.
Killian took the picture of the northern lights and ordered a canvas of it, with haste, which is now proudly hanging on the side wall of the shop. He smiles while looking around.
He hates to admit it, but the café looks even better than before. There are all these different elements that make a whole and he can clearly see the influence of the girls in the interior.
Aurora has even managed to sneak in a pink bouquet of roses next to the couch and it still doesn't clash. This is his coffeehouse and he's bloody proud of it.
"It looks great, doesn't it?" Killian turns around and sees Aurora standing behind him.
"Yes, it does. I'm impressed that we didn't turn it into a mess." Killian grins at her.
"I think we have Tink to thank for that because this goes beyond my sense of interior design." She giggles and then her face turns more serious.
"Have you heard anything from Emma?"
"Not a word," he replies, "I don't even know if she's coming today."
"We'll see, I guess."
She glances at the wall, where the huge clock is hanging.
"It's time." she says and she walks to the door where the open sign is hanging.
"The honor's yours, Killian."
Killian joins her at the door and just before he turns the sign, they hear Tink.
"You were going to open without me? Really?"
They both throw her a guilty smile.
"Sorry, lass," Killian then says. "But now that you're here, can I finally open?"
"Go for it!" Killian turns the sign and only seconds after he does, Elsa already comes in.
"You're back!" she says.
"We're back!" Tink and Aurora nearly scream.
Killian laughs and turns to Elsa.
"An iced coffee for you?"
"Yes, please," she answers.
"How you drink that in mid-winter, I will never understand," Killian says while preparing her drink.
She smiles and rearranges her light blond braid.
"Well, let's just say that the cold's never bothered me."
The day flies by and Killian is pleased to see that among the faces of his regulars, there are quite a few new people who come in and try "A Cup of Jones" and it seems that they like what they see.
There is one face Killian constantly keeps looking for but it never shows up. He doesn't want this day to end on a negative note, so he ignores the letdown and focuses on getting Will out of the building.
"Aurora!" he shouts. "I need some help."
Now's the time to discover what Aurora's secret trick is.
"What's wrong?" Aurora comes in from the back with her half eaten sandwich in her hands and when she sees Will, she sighs and mumbles something in the line of "this fucking dude."
"Up, Scarlett, or do you want me to call Anastasia to tell you everything about your day here? I mean I'd have to mention that you weren't actually at that class she sent you to."
Will's eyes turn big and he suddenly feels hurried.
"Did you redecorate the place? It looks much better like this, dunnit?" he says, trying to change the subject and when Aurora raises her eyebrows, he starts begging. "Oi, dinna tell Ana, please. I'm leaving."
He walks out of the door.
"So that's how you do it. Who's Anastasia?" Killian looks surprised at Aurora.
She answers, "His fiancée and a friend of mine. We met in yoga class and she always tells me everything she plans for her dear Will. Like his marital preparation class, which he should've gone to today while he was sitting here. Honestly, I have enough leverage on that man to last a whole year." Aurora smirks.
"To be honest, lass, I wasn't expecting that from you."
She eats the last bit of her sandwich and shrugs like it's nothing. Killian smiles.
"I think it's time for champagne," he says while lifting a single eyebrow.
Tink's face appears from behind the door.
"Did I actually hear the word champagne?"
Her hair wiggles and the joy on her face is apparent. It's a comic sight and they all start laughing.
"Surprise."
After another two days, Killian has completely given up on Emma.
He sent her one more text asking if everything was okay, but like his previous ones, it remained unanswered. He tries not to be let down too much, but it still feels shitty. He really thought that something could've happened, but he guesses it wasn't supposed to.
He also knows how to take a hint.
It's fair to say that it is completely understandable that Killian has to blink twice when she's suddenly standing in line like every other Monday, ready for her morning coffee. She ends up on his service and she briefly tells him what she wants.
He replies, "I know, Swan. You're a regular, remember?"
She looks irritated and Killian's confusion grows even more. Yes, her mood is bad on Mondays, but this is a whole new level.
"Is everything okay, Emma? Did something happen with Henry or...?"
"Yes and no," Emma says abruptly. She reaches for her coffee and leaves.
Killian is taken aback. Aurora, who sees the whole ordeal, looks at him with concern.
He doesn't know what to say.
What happened to her? She isn't even acknowledging him or the evening they spent together.
Did they really go on a date or is his mind just playing foul tricks on him?
No, he's sure of it.
The memories he has are hard to forget and far too detailed to be fiction. Emma was on the J.R. jr. and they dined and talked and watched the sky and kissed.
He must have done something.
Something that made Emma become this way.
Bloody hell. What did he do?
Extra A/N: The song I used for this chapter is Believe by Mumford and Sons