This is gonna break me clean in two
this is gonna bring me close to you
she is everything I need that I never knew I wanted
she is everything I want that I never knew I needed
she is by the fray
"What was the earliest years Japanese art gets traced back to?"
"Uh, tenth century B.C," Emma responds, tapping her fingers on the mattress.
He nods. "List three types of Greek art."
"Hellenistic, Classical and Archaic," she answers confidently, and then comes the yawn. It's 10:30 PM, well, somewhere around there, she's bound to get tired at some point.
He snaps her binder shut. "Tired?"
She shrugs, licking her lips to wet them after so much talking and testing. "Sort of. I'm tired, but not to the point where I actually want to sleep yet."
"I suppose we can stay up for awhile more, because I probably won't be able to sleep until you are." He takes a drink from his water. "I know one thing, and it's that you'll do quite fine on this exam of yours," he assures her, throwing the binder onto the table. "You've done well before, you can do it again."
With a stretch of her back, she sighs. "Only fine?"
"Perfect," he corrects, smiling brightly at her.
"Hey, I want your opinion on something," she says, rubbing the back of her neck from the strain. "You don't need to give me an immediate answer though."
"Out with it, Swan."
Emma sighs. "Ruby thinks I should just permanently move in with you," she tells him. "And I just remembered to bring this up-"
He stops her. "It would be an honour, love. Really, I wouldn't mind having your permanent company." He smirks like the devil. "It would be a lot more convenient than the usual."
"Really?"
"Aye. I suppose it's just your choice, isn't it now?"
"It is. And I don't know yet." She shrugs, falling back on the bed. "It would be nice to get away from Ruby, but then I'd have to put up with so much of you and I don't know who I can tolerate more," she comments quite sarcastically; but to an extent, it's still the truth. "A boyfriend or a best friend? I can't tell if I'm jeopardizing myself or not by having to make this very important decision."
"I, for one, cannot tell if you are teasing me," he mutters. "And if you are, I'd like you to have a fair warning that you are playing quite a dangerous game with me, darling."
"Yeah, dangerous. Right."
He chuckles. "Don't believe me, do you?" he taunts her with such a question, the thought and curiosity bestowing over her.
"What are you going to d-"
Her phone interrupts her.
And it's Walsh. Again.
"I swear, does he ever fucking give up on this crap?" she murmurs angrily, ignoring the phone call and throwing it onto the side table. "I told him not to call.
"Ignore it. Get a new number, maybe?"
She lets out an exasperated sigh of frustration. She sits up properly. "It didn't stop him before, why should it stop him now?"
"Come on, Swan, think a bit more positively," he encourages, leaning forward to wrap his arm around her waist. "You're not alone in this, and this time, I for sure am not going to leave you to fall to whatever he wants to do with you," Killian assures her, his hand rubbing up and down her back. "Besides, I'm the one who owns you now." He winks, making her body tremble in a way that has never happened before.
It's an uneasy feeling flooding through her, but by the time they're both in bed, she can't manage to let her eyes close and let her body fall to fatigue. An hour ago, she was yawning every fifteen minutes or so, but now she's oddly not as tired as she thought, and she doesn't know what exactly is bothering her to this point. It's definitely not Walsh, because she's already had enough of him, and she knows he's not worth thinking about.
But, perhaps it's Killian. The way he smiles and laughs, the way he jokes and flirts, the way he touches and assures. Perhaps it's the way he treats her, the way she's never been really actually used to, and during the moments she did feel like she was cared for, loved, it had all been a petty little ruse in the very end. So, perhaps it's just the idea of losing him like every other guy she's ever dated, which means the two asshole boyfriends from her past.
So yes, she has a completely rugged heart, one that's gone through more pain with two boyfriends than it should have, so yes, she's always hesitant on opening up to anyone, especially if it's to a best friend who can easily break her again. But then again, something tells her to trust him, and then another says to not try with this entire thing.
God fucking damnit, why does doubt have to always cloud her own judgement? It's annoying to her, she can't think straight, and by the time she's even realized, it's halfway through the night (or morning) and she's yet to fall asleep; to get rest for the test she has in like… five hours or so. So, she has five hours to get sleep, somehow of course, if only there was something magical to aid her. Emma tries everything; counting sheep, staring at the ceiling until she gets bored, but nothing really does turn out to work. The last time she had a night this serious, it was back when she was with Walsh.
She silently groans, pushing herself out of bed. Quietly, she peeks out the door and into the empty hallway, and she finds herself soon strolling out of the building. Well, more like trudging, but point taken. She's tired, but she can't sleep. Insomnia is building up inside of her, and that's not something she wants. The inability to sleep like this, it hurts sometimes, to know how hard she tries, yet she can't do a single damn thing to fix it.
Luckily, the nights are cool, regardless of the fact that the mornings and afternoons are far too warm and humid. The gentle air hitting her bare arms make her involuntary shudder, but the air is making her relax a little bit more. Maybe this walk was all she really needed, some dark skies and warm lights shining through some windows enough to settle her down.
Her feet wander around, but she eventually finds herself sitting in front of that fountain again, just watching the water flow down and around.
"Swan?"
"Over here," she says.
"Bloody hell, I was going to use the washroom but I noticed the bed empty," he mutters, sitting down next to her. "You can't just sneak off like that," he whispers, holding her closely, "scaring me out of the blue."
"Sorry. I needed air. Like… badly. I couldn't sleep, and this time there wasn't much bothering me." She sighs, feeling his warmth calm her. "I've been up for like four hours. I figured a walk could clear my mind."
He presses a kiss into her hair. "Let's go back and we can devise a plan to get you back to sleep. You need your well deserved rest for tomorrows... wait, todays examination."
"Alright."
While they walk back, he frequently tightens his grip on her hand, and she doesn't know whether it's intentional or not, but it does make her a little bit giddy inside. Every single touch they share, things that have been ignored from before, are all being brought to light and to both of their attentions. She rubs her eyes when they get back, knowing that she's slowly getting tired. But at this rate, she's not going to end up falling asleep until another hour from now.
She curls up in bed, and for some reason, she wants the feeling of being in someones arms. Just wants the comfort and warmth, and damn, she's 23 and feels like some lovestruck teenager when she backtracks to her shitty high school days. When life was a bitch when she was with Neal.
"Killian?"
"Aye?"
She sighs, rolling around to face him from the other side of the room. "Can you... sleep with me? I just- I don't know, I feel like maybe I can get some sleep then." Emma feels completely embarrassed at her request, but he doesn't even hesitate to climb in next to her, hearing the ruffle of the sheets lift up.
"You could have asked earlier, love," he mumbles. "Anything else?"
"No. Thank you," she breathes out, closing her eyes.
The usual warmth that emits off his body whenever he's standing beside her changes into something else, she's beyond relaxed now, her mind finally drifting off to a better place, a place where her imagination never rests. Her breathing finally evens out, her shoulders no longed too tensed, and her body finally stops being it's oddly active self. Throw 'taking it slow' out the window now.
She dreams of a better life, a life full of happiness, no stress, no anticipation in having something come back from her past to haunt her. She dreams of Killian Jones, his cheeky smile, his never-ending innuendos, his favorable assurance and assistance she never can deny in the end. And then it strikes her. When has she ever actually denied him of his offers? Never. Or rarely. She's always been honored by having his help, always been welcome to his aid because she's never really had the guts to turn him down, or it's because she just can't turn him down. It's as if she's always been using him, never actually being as thankful as she should be, taking him more for granted as best friend than what he really deserves.
Well, more doubt in her life that she doesn't need at the moment. He doesn't need a broken person in his life, but what exactly is this? Being selfish? No, no it's not, but hell, she just wants these dumb voices in her head to just go away.
"Love, wake up."
It's a distant voice, but that lilted accent is very familiar.
"Swan!"
Her eyes fly open, and Killian is looking over her shoulder, a firm hand has been shaking her. "And I was finally getting the sleep I needed," she mutters.
"Good morning, love."
"Morning," she grumbles. shoving herself forward to sit up. "Why did you wake me?"
He laughs. "You have a test to get to."
She glances at the time as she starts to scramble out of bed. "Right."
She changes far too quickly for her own liking, grabs her bag, making sure she has her pens and other stuff. However, before she storms off, Killian grabs her by the wrist and spins her around. He wishes her good luck and presses a short-lived kiss to her lips, and that is something she can get used to. She just mumbles a thanks before she's running halfway across the school property to get to her class. The entire time, she's smiling and shaking her head at the thought. She's happy, and this happy is not a regular part of her life, so for once, she just lets herself soak in the somewhat foreign feeling.
The entire time she's writing the test, she's thinking back to the stuff Killian had helped her review. In most cases, it does help, but for some things she just needs to rely on her pure memory or guts. Multiple choice questions are usually questions she can complete as ease, but some of the numbers are slipping out of her brain before she's able to colour in the right answer on her sheet. Think, think, think, repeats in her brain, closing her eyes and blowing out a breath. And then, bingo. There's ten minutes left, and she has to answer another twenty questions.
There's plenty of time, because while she scans through the remainder, she realizes they're easy, well, at least for her- just until she stumbles on one question that is confusing her. A wild guess needs to be made. Just as the professor says time's up, she leans back in her seat and sighs. Close call still, she thinks, handing her test in.
And now because she doesn't want to stay in this wretched Historical Art class, she finds herself slinging the backpack over her shoulder and ditching that room at fast as possible. On the way back, she grabs herself a quick to-go breakfast, running into Ruby and Victor as usual. She chucks the empty coffee cup into the garbage along with the paper bag.
The rest of her classes for the day are a bore, nothing special or important comes up as the usual. Most classes are going pretty chill since the break is arriving, and she's pretty excited. Just the 'more people' attending turns her away from the entire cottage thing. Making new friends was never Emma's strong suit, she should be even lucky that Ruby, Victor, David, Mary Margaret, and Killian are her friends in the first place. If it wasn't for all of their persistence, she probably would be sitting in her room alone, listening to music and randomly doodling in her sketchbook.
Some friends are worth having. She knows that. Good thing she has trustworthy ones where she feels comfortable hanging around with.
Eventually, she drags herself back to the dorms through the unsettling heat that's driving itself into Maine. And when she does get back, she takes a long awaited cold shower, works on the art project which is coming along nicely. There are several shades of blue being used, and then there's this yellow and white that blend in nicely. However, she's struggling to find the absolute light source, or at least, where to place it as most. She sighs, dabbing her paintbrush into the water and cleaning it off. After another hour of devoted painting time, she's almost done.
"Hello, love," Killian greets, shutting the door behind him. "Did I miss the painting session? Or should I say, invading Swan's personal space time?"
She rolls her eyes at spins around in the chair. "I was actually just about to clean up." She stands up. "You can check it out and give me your thoughts though while I clean all this up."
It's a complete mess, but she manages anyways.
"These two figures are quite interesting Swan, I like the way you've delicately painted them passing each other," he comments, his eyes scanning over the canvas. "But, I can very well tell you're struggling with the light."
"Perceptive."
Killian smirks. "I know I am," he says. "Anyways, I think you should do something with their shadows. Perhaps a silhouette of the sort to show of the darkness they're in, and that they are the passing lights in each other's life? A mere suggestion of the sort, if you understand what I'm trying to say," he offers, shrugging nonchalantly. "The lyrics were somewhat similar about them passing in the night, aye? Cluelessly of course, but that is dependent on your own interpretation."
"Yes, and your interpretation is pretty accurate with mine. They coincide in a way, so I'll figure out a way soon. Thanks for your suggestion, I'll come around with something eventually," she responds, wiping her hands with a wet cloth. "Just need to let it dry now before I put it away."
He nods curtly, licking his lips. "In other news, how was your exam, love?"
She chuckles, remembering her encounter with that one damn fucking question. "I'm sure I got most of it down. Except I know for sure there was this one multiple choice question that I had no clue about. I don't even remember what it was to be honest. There goes my chance at a perfect."
"You tried."
She shrugs. "Yeah, I guess I did. You testing me put a lot of it into my mind," she says, "and I think it's 'cause you repeatedly kept correcting me when I made a mistake though. And then you mocked me about it." Then, she narrows her eyes at him, jerking her side to the side slightly. "Can I mention that mocking me about it was not very helpful at all?"
"Admit it, you did enjoy me making fun of you once and awhile, Swan," he wildly remarks, taking steps toward her.
A scoff turns into a breathy laugh. "Yes, I had a lot of fun being humiliated again."
He looks surprised. "Again?"
"Right, well… Apparently all our friends knew you liked me way before I did," she murmurs, slightly embarrassed. "As most people see it, I'm a stubborn person. I'd like to think I'm not, but who am I to run from the truth?"
This damn change of topic though, she brought it upon herself, now she needs to deal with it, because she knows it's not going in the best direction.
"Hey, you might be an infuriating stubborn woman, but you are my infuriating stubborn woman," he compliments, a playful smile glowing on his face. "Besides, no one could blame you for not noticing any earlier, lass. You had other things to focus on, such as that art of yours you cherish so well."
"I could have prevented myself from my own heartbreak if I had noticed your affections earlier," she says, and it's hardly over a whisper, sort of self-deprecating and full of reflection.
"Emma, listen to me love, it was not your fault," he insists, his hands firmly placed on her shoulders. "I wasn't forward enough with you, and by all means, that's more of my fault than yours. You had embarked on your own voyage, one that hadn't consisted of me being your significant other at the moment. But have you ever thought about the aftermath, Swan? The way you stood up, and fought back? The way you might have cried and mourned, but never really did let it get you as down as it might have if you had let it?
"You're a tough lass, never forget that. Pushed and pulled, yet still intact. Abandoned and lost, yet still found a way. You have thick skin, you're a bloody brilliant person. Remember that. Don't think any of this was ever your fault, you made your own choices, and perhaps those decisions have taught you more than you'd have ever expected yourself. Put some faith in yourself, Swan. You've once said quite passionately to fight back and prove who you are. Do that yourself sometime, believe in yourself."
"Good to hear my own words spat back at me." She closes her eyes and calmly sighs, recalling all the events. "Damn, I'm not acting quite myself now," she mutters, shaking her head. Avoid the conversation, avoid this, whatever it is because she's not willing to talk about it at the moment. She doesn't need a pep talk from Killian, no matter the situation. "I'm going to get changed and get some rest." She turns around to sort her clothes out.
"You're running."
She freezes in place. "What?"
"You're avoiding the conversation, Swan, I know all too well of all your little tricks and antics," he claims confidently, smiling sadly at her. "But that's okay with me. Only speak when you're comfortable, even if it means another year from now. As long as you stop running at some point, stop being so afraid to open up, I don't mind when." He pushes the chair in, under the table. "And that reminds me… You had a rather good sleep after I was in bed with you." It's his teasing voice all over again.
Emma can't help but roll her eyes at his implication. She drawls, "Your point is…?"
"Oh come one, love. Admit that I had helped you fall asleep soundly." There's a pause. "And that maybe you'll need my help again."
"You're so full of yourself," she mutters, folding her arms over her chest and turning to glare at him. "Do you seriously want me to say that?"
He nods, smirking with a raised eyebrow. "Aye. Can't have a man dream all the time, can you?"
"Fine, fine. I suppose you did help me fall asleep. I just needed someone, alright?"
"It's all I asked for," he whispers, walking forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now, do you need me to be your accomplice in bed once again? Or shall I retire back to mine?"
"Can you stay up for an extra ten minutes?" she requests, feeling some heat build up to her cheeks. "In case I can't fall asleep within that allotted time, I'll ask for you."
"As you wish."
This night, she does need Killian to help her fall asleep. With her back against his chest and his arm gently draped over her center, it feels almost far too domestic, something she's not too familiar with, not even when she was with Walsh or Neal. But it helps, somehow, and she's thankful that he's willing to do anything for her; which is still ridiculous in her mind.
Although the bed is not that spacious, it still manages to surprise her that the both of them can stay in it without one kicking each other out. Not really taking it slow anymore, but who gives a fuck, she thinks in her mind, letting the warmth of his breath seep onto the skin of her neck. He does look at me like I'm the stars to his universe, treats me like I'm the most precious person ever, but that's besides the point. It's that this is serious, real, and it's true she runs- she's been running her entire life- because old habits die hard, so hell yes, she's running like a coward.
Very aware of her own decisions, despite being the one making them, makes her want to turn back in time and just slap her old self and say 'what the actual fuck were you thinking?' because to be serious here, she is making dumb decisions. She does want to be honest with him, of course she does, it's just her first initial reaction is to run, and since it's a damned habit of hers, it means she needs to figure out a way to counteract her own self. Which sounds oddly… odd. Just, weird.
It's a sudden nightmare that wakes her abruptly, and she also startles Killian. He whispers words of comfort into her hair, his hand moving up to rub her waist. To the steady beat of his heart, and the sound of his breathing, she eventually falls asleep again- with the nightmares not on her mind.
By the time she awakes, it's due to her empty and complaining stomach. And then she remembers tonight is date night, and she has no clue about what Killian has planned.
"G'morning, love," he murmurs, tightening his grip around her waist. His voice is full of sleep, his accent thicker than usual. It's actually attractive, but hell if she's going to admit that. "Sleep well I presume?
"Yeah," she mumbles. "Thanks again."
"Might as well make this a regular occurrence," he suggests, though it's with one of his teasing tones, "because not getting sleep is bad for you."
"Thanks Captain Obvious," she grumbles.
Killian peeks over her shoulder with a lazy smile. "Date is tonight."
"I know."
"Dress casual."
"How does this work? We live in the same fucking dorm."
"I'll spend my day with Dave, and you continue to work on your painting until the time's right," he suggests. "Unless you will be missing my company?"
She inwardly groans at his big ego. "In your dreams."
"Would you hurt me if I said I do dream of you?" he whispers into her ear, his breath tickling her. "Because I do."
"Okay, I think it's time to get outta bed," she immediately responds, not wanting to hear all of the stuff he really does mean. She starts to climb over him, but he pulls her back, her face ending up between his neck and shoulder, nearly hitting the wooden header. "Fuck," she curses, "really, Killian? I thought you wanted to spend your day with Dave!"
"I'd rather spend it with you," he says, "so I can invade all your precious personal space," he continues, "assist you with my very own suggestions that you apply to your art," he pauses, "and then take you out so you can get a well deserved break from your dedication, love."
She inhales the scent of his shampoo, a sort of sea mint or something. She sighs, because she's never expected to be this happy before, but she is. "I never knew Killian Jones had such a sweet, soft spot," she mocks, closing her eyes. "Just so you know, I don't pillage and plunder on the first date."
"That's because you haven't been out with me yet."