I got this idea in my head about how Killian craved his other hand for their date and how maybe, after time with Emma, he may begin to think differently.
There was a time, with her, that he wished for two, thinking that his one was not enough. But in this moment, with her tucked in close, his fingers entangled in the silky strands of her hair and his thumb tracing the curve of her neck, he realizes he couldn't have been more wrong. His one, it is blessed, as it has the pleasure of every touch, it doesn't have to share.
One thumb gets to wipe away the tracks of her tears, tug at the corner of her lips as they kiss, dig into her side until her laughter fills the air. One palm will forever lead her in dance, in passion, in steadiness and comfort. She will cling to his one set of fingers, when she's happy or in pain, or to pull him closer if ever he drifts too far.
His one hand keeps all of her secrets, has memorized the fullness of her breasts and knows just where to find the sensitive curve at the back of her thigh. Only five fingertips can sense when soft is not enough, have perfected her rhythm and get to revel in the beauty of her release. Tiny scars mar the skin above the knuckles of his one hand from where she's held on too tight, half-moons he cherishes, especially when brushed lightly by her lips.
One palm felt the racing of her heart as she first confessed her love, the frantic beating beneath her chest as the blackness quickly stole her away. But, it also welcomed her home, found its way back to press tight against hers and fought to never let her go.
Two was for his life before, when he wished for it all and ended up with nothing. With Emma, his one, it's everything and more than enough.