Because all of the little touches and hand holding and just…the constant contact between these two just speaks to my soul…
The walk back to the loft is a quiet one, with David obviously lost in his own thoughts and Regina leading the way with Henry on her arm. They're a rag tag bunch; a bit beat up by all that's transpired so far, but reinvigorated in a way by Snow's departure and her unwavering faith in this family and the mission ahead.
Family… It's something he isn't used to having, but he's quickly beginning to realize how much he's needed to find himself as part of one. The burden he carries for the decision all of these people made to come down here to save him is still heavy, at times so oppressive he has to fight to keep his composure intact. Thankfully, the weight feels somewhat lightened since being able to thank David and their shared plan to find a way to get Snow back home having succeeded. As he looks ahead he wonders if perhaps some of it has actually been shifted to David's shoulders instead. Letting someone share your burden…where has he heard that before? He is apparently slow at learning to take his own advice.
"Thank you…"
At the soft sound of her voice, he looks to his right to see Emma peering up at him with that lone tear she can never seem to hold back adorning her cheek. Luckily, he knows happiness to be the cause of it this time around. Releasing her hand, he snakes his arm around her back to pull her into a hug. The fluffy cuff of her hood tickles his nose until the strength of her returned embrace knocks it from her head to fall back along her neck and over his arm. He takes a deep breath of the cold air and holds on tighter, thankful that she seems to crave these moments of comfort just as much as he. It's a needy thing, the slide of her fingers between his or the press of her hand in the crook of his arm, the warmth of her body resting against his on the small sofa in the loft or in her bed during their futile attempts at sleep. His heart, not really there in his chest, it just aches for her touch.
Perhaps it isn't an ache? Despite not really believing yet that he wholly deserves it, he's come to terms with the fact that Emma Swan is his True Love, in that magical way that he's still trying to understand. And this knowledge has made him ponder what that really means, how her heart is now, possibly, somehow sustaining them both. So, perhaps this pull is his soul simply needing that heartbeat, a desire to share in the rapid thump when she's afraid or the quiet thrum when things are calm? All he knows is he doesn't truly feel whole when she's not there by his side. And though they haven't spoken of it, he can only imagine how torn apart and empty she must have felt after he died, leaving her alone and without her other half. It was torture for him, more painful than anything Hades had inflicted.
He needs to say the words more, so he does.
"I love you."
With her cheek resting beneath his chin, goosebumps erupt in the wake of her breath caressing his bare throat as she reciprocates with her own declaration of, "I love you, too."
He continues to hold her a moment longer before pulling back to seek out her lips for a soft kiss. It's a quick and gentle touch, but he swears he feels a flutter where his heart should be when she kisses him back.