Oh, won't you tell me why
i keep waiting up at night
leaving on the lights
i can never say goodbye
ghost by mat kearney
"Yes, I have a date with him, no we are not doing a double date any time soon, Ruby, god, no, Ruby shut up!"
Killian is punching his pillow by holding in his laughter from across the room, and she's internally growling at how many questions Ruby is asking.
"I want all the details!" Ruby is literally cheering for her for having a date. Who the actual fuck cheers for someone when they have a date? It's just because of her goddamn circumstances, where she was always closing off and was quite disinterested in dating. "You have to tell me, Emma."
"Honestly, I have no details besides the fact I'm dressing casual," she mutters.
"Put Killian on the phone!"
"No, I'm not doing that," Emma sternly responds, glancing over at Killian who's smirking like a smug bastard. "This is our date, not yours."
A sigh comes from the other end. "Don't be such a downer, Emma. You can not tell me now, but you will tell me after the date is over, right?"
"Sure, I'll tell you after it happens. And when I mean after, I mean a day later because I'm not going to shower you with stuff that I'd rather keep private for a bit." That's because you haven't been out with me yet. "I'm only going to summarize though, don't expect some massive explanation of how it goes, that's just gonna turn out weird."
"Any information will be reeled out from you," Ruby says. "Okay, Victor's comin' over, so I'll talk to you later. Bye!"
"Bye."
Time to charge her phone. So, she places it on the table and connects the charger in. The entire time, Killian's just sitting there with a goofy smile, knowing exactly what he's doing, alluring her in such a manner. Except, she's refusing to fall for any of it, she's not going to tell him about what Ruby has in mind for the date.
She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, dropping onto the bed. But, in most cases, she does tend to wonder about what Killian has planned. She hasn't yet pinned into knowing what exactly he'd do. If it's a casual thing, it's not a fancy dinner- which she's not surprised about. Income isn't easy for anyone, but being that Maine is quite wonderful in terms of some nature, she wonders if Killian is going to take her out to somewhere a little less expected.
"I'd have thought you would have caved by now, love."
"Shut up."
"Now you're being all hostile again, please elaborate on your sudden mood change."
"No sudden mood change for your information, perhaps I'm always like this and you just don't pay attention enough."
He laughs. "Oh, darling, I've had my eyes on you since the day I caught sight of you. I know you better than you think, and you are definitely being your hostile self again. Just like the day I found you asleep in the hallway," he says, thrusting himself off his bed and toward her. "You should be lucky I hadn't called campus security about being locked out of your own room. That would have been far more embarrassing, wouldn't it?"
"Would you really would have done that to your best friend?"
"You're right," he says, "I wouldn't have. But, it would have been a good rumour to spread, don't you think?"
Oh my god, is what goes through her mind at the words he says. She groans, rolling onto her side. "Are you just trying to get on my nerves purposely? Because you're doing a really good job at it, I applaud you for that."
"Well, relinquish those thoughts because you won't even remember this conversation by the end of tonight."
She scoffs. "Humor me. Like I'd forget."
"Trust me, darling. You will."
She groans and lets her weight drop onto the bed, ignoring the fact Killian lays down next to her, his finger playing with her hair. As much as she technically despises him in so many ways - damn talented, intelligent, aggravating man - she does like him. It's just that she never knew earlier which sometimes annoys her because she could have saved herself so much more trouble. She walked away from him plenty of time, but at least now she's making her bridge back with him, making amends for the dumb, inexcusable mistakes she's made. (Okay maybe not inexcusable, but just really stupid mistakes.)
"Didn't you say you wanted to hang out with David?" she mumbles her question.
He chuckles, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Did you forget already that I wanted to rather spend my time with you too?"
"Killian, stop being infuriating and sweet. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this at all."
"Good," he murmurs closely to her ear, towering over her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Before she knows it, she pulls him back down on top of him so they meet again. She's never felt so lit up before, not with Walsh, not with Neal, but with Killian of all people. It's just another reason of why they always seem to fit each other so seamlessly, as if they're that ridiculous label people claim - soul mates, was it? Something like that.
His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender, but there's also a small bit of eagerness, hunger, desperation. They've not yet to have any sort of kiss like this, they've been keeping it down.
"Bloody hell," he mutters, pulling back away from her slightly, just hovering enough, making sure he doesn't crush her body on top of his. "You know how to tease a man, Swan."
"No teasing," she breathes out, opening her eyes. "I said I wouldn't pillage and plunder on the first date, so I'm not going back on my word about that, mate."
"You said on the first date, nothing about other times," he taunts carefully.
Fucking douche knowing how to tread this line he's on. She huffs out of her nose, shaking her head at him. "Stop being smart too," she murmurs, bumping his nose with hers. Everything feels so right with him, it scares the living hell out of her. She's scared she'll lose him somehow - he gets bored of her and leaves, they argue over something dumb and then he's gone, she'll screw it up somehow and neither of them will get to chance to fix it.
"Penny for your thoughts, love?"
She shakes her head, waking herself from the little doubtful trance she put herself in again. "Sorry, just… nothing, me being stupid is all."
"Not stupid, I can hear you thoughts," he says, rolling off of her and pulling her up. "I'm not leaving you if that's what you're thinking."
"I don't know if I should be scared," she begins to say, "or glad you can do that. Please don't do that often; the entire reading thing again, it makes me feel guilty that I even think about these things." She leans on his shoulder, the way he's firm and easy to trust and believe in comes simply from having someone be there.
He chuckles and wraps an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Never feel guilty about it, Swan. If I had gone through everything you've gone through, I'd be in your exact position." His thumb rubs her shoulder in a slow pattern, his cheek resting on top of her head. "And there's nothing I can say to stop you from thinking about it, but," he takes in a breath loudly, "there are things I can do to prove I won't leave you, aye?"
"I guess."
"Darling, I know."
She doesn't. "Always right aren't you?" She looks over at him, keeping her eyes locked on the way he smiles confidently. Faint, but obvious, are the stuttering formations inside her stomach.
"Absolutely."
It's flat out ridiculous how well this guy plans a date. Usually, she hates going off campus, hates it when Ruby drags her somewhere (they're mostly bars and such, not that she's ever invested in that kind of stuff), but with Killian, she feels the freedom drive through her so easily. It's the most carefree she's been in awhile, and to be honest, she likes it.
It's a small, but quite fancy Italian restaurant not far from here, and apparently Killian knows the owner well. He opens the door for her, pulls out her chair, teases her in all the ways possible. She's enjoying her time, forgetting about everything that's ever bothered her in the past week - which includes all thoughts on Walsh - and even worse, his absolute declaration that she will forget their heartfelt conversation from earlier on in the day. Damn him for being right all the time, she thinks as she drinks.
She does catch the way she feels heat rise to her cheeks, the feeling that she knows she's definitely blushing when he compliments her genuinely about how she looks. She does catch the way she nearly snorts (unlady-like) or the way she nearly chokes when he makes some sexual innuendo purposely. She does catch the way her face can come close to feeling sore from smiling so much because she's actually having a good time. She does catch the way her shoulders shake and laugh from the way he makes the worst jokes and comments too. She catches herself being guilty to a lot of things, but none of them bother her, because she's having a good time.
He insists on paying the bill just for tonight. "Let me be the gentleman tonight, love," he tells her, smirking like he always does.
While they walk back in the darkness, the only lights shining on them is the moonlight and streetlights, he reaches out and takes her hand in his, gently squeezing it with a grin on his face. She doesn't realize when it happened, but eventually his jacket is draped over her shoulders while they walk hand in hand. They run into David and Mary Margaret - she doesn't miss the way David glares at David with a protective death stare, or the way Mary Margaret is smiling at Emma. Maybe Killian is rubbing off on her, making her happier in ways than she's had in ages.
To make this bastard even better at this entire dating thing, disregarding the fact they technically live in the same room, he kisses her a sweet goodnight before he's off into the washroom to change and brush his teeth. Idiot, she decides herself, changing out of her casual dress and into a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt that's striped and according to Killian "cute." And everyone knows he never uses words like that.
After she's done brushing her teeth and in bed, Killian joins her without any consent because she knows he knows he doesn't need any. After so many nights of not being able to sleep (and he's the reason she can sleep now) she doesn't bother asking him a second time to stay up later or not, she doesn't tell him he can join her - he just does it, like it's an instinct of his.
And she doesn't blame him for it. The fact she's tucked under his chin, his body warm and molded against hers perfectly, she feels like everything's right to be in his arms. She's never felt more safe and welcome in anyone else.
Sometimes, she'll wonder if he'll be like Walsh. Treat her nicely, be her everything, and then everything goes downhill. Sometime, she'll wonder if he'll be like Neal. Treat her well, tell her she's perfect, and then abandon her as if she was just a whim. But, a voice in her head and a tug at her heart tells her otherwise, and that's what she vows to trust more than a couple of old doubts resurfacing from her dusty past of relationships.
In the morning, he refuses to let her out of his arms, and she doesn't blame him. It is really comfortable, even on the not so spacious single bed they're sharing every night now.
In the afternoon, she works on her painting, and it's nearly done, she's finally starting to see where everything blends well together. The colours don't contradict too much, rather than that, they're bright and cool, the way they show out. And then there's the ghost of light that they're trying to find when the two figures walk past each other. What's left is a written summary of what she's done, and while it's nearing six in the evening, Killian comes back with some dinner for her which she's eternally thankful for. She's been far too focused on finishing her damn project to end up not having a care in the world for anything else.
In the night, she wakes up to a nightmare. Her eyes quickly flash open to the white wall in front of her, and she's trying to catch her breath. Killian murmurs something to calm her, his hand on top of hers, resting on her stomach, his thumb stroking her hand. She falls asleep to a dreamless remainder of the night, and in the morning, she hardly remembers the fact she even woke up to a forgetful nightmare anyways.
The routine goes on.
With a couple of dates and outings in between when they get the chance.
Ruby bothers her a lot. Killian showers her with so much love (dare she call it anything else because there's nothing else to call it). David continues to be protective and threatening at the same time. Mary Margaret smacks David and scolds him every time simultaneously.
She's starting to grow fond of it all. The touches and kisses, the asking and questions, the comfort and care. Everything's falling into this easy routine she's not had in awhile, and she doesn't actually mind for once because everything that's in place starts to make her smile and laugh more than ever. She's less bitter and hostile according to Killian, and Ruby even says she's 'glowing' (whatever the fuck that means) which is supposedly a good thing.
She might not want to admit it - well, past Emma Swan may not admit it, but present Emma Swan will.
Life is fucking good.
Until when she gets some phone call.
("Is this Emma Swan?" a feminine voice asks.
"Yes, is there something I can help you with?"
"Do you know Killian Jones?"
Something feels lodged in the back of her throat already. "Yes."
"He's at the hospital, please come by as soon as you can. Nothing fatal, but do drop by."
Her breaths drop, and she nearly loses her grasp on the phone as if it's slipping out of her hand at the news. "I'm on my way. Thank you.")
While she's pacing back and forth after calling David about the news, she can't help but wonder what the fuck happened. The nurses were not able to provide much information, because apparently they don't know the story - that worries her.
The doctor comes out saying he'll need a bit of time for a couple of bruises and cuts to heal, but everything else about him is fine and that he can go home tomorrow morning.
Relief washes over her then, she can finally feel like she's breathing again. David urges her inside. "I'll wait out here," he assures her.
Nodding, she opens the door and closes it behind her. She notices the way he's looking at her, his eye full of apologies and nothing else. She catches the weak little smile he gives her. She suddenly can't breathe again, so she takes in a deep breath and walks toward the bed, taking his hand (the non-bruised) and shutting her eyes forcefully. She doesn't find enough strength to yell or cry, she's just worried and slightly frustrated.
Because not only will this affect him -
It affects her.
He explains the entire story. He ran into Walsh. Walsh threw the punch, and then the fight continued there. The rest is history.
She sighs and nods, grabbing a chair and sliding it down next to his bed, keeping her hand interlocked with his. He tells her to go back to school, but she doesn't budge from her seat (stubborn she is of course) or listen to what he has to say. She just wants to sit next to him, give herself time to forgive him - even though she already has because that fucker Walsh is going to get a slap to the face and a kick to the nuts the next time she sees him again.
She can't sleep for the night.
She just watches - observes him, the way his face is so loose and pain-free and the way his chest rises and drops in a repetitive pattern. She leaves his room quietly and goes to one of those shitty vending machines, getting a drink to supply her awareness for the rest of the night. Not going back into the room, she crunches the can up and throws it away, then kicking her foot at the wall lightly. It's not anger anymore, just, she can't lose him, and even if it was just a small fight, she worries a lot. If she lost him, god damn what is she going to do?
Say they aren't dating, she'd lose her best friend, her mentor, her family. She's not willing to lose that all over again. She's not willing to go through more pain and heartbreak after finally starting to open up to the idea that she does like him. She's not willing to go through more loss and abandonment after finally starting to trust him with her heart in his own hands (she's fully aware that he can break her in half with some words or actions). She's been a victim for far too long, she's not going to become one again.
She runs into Walsh.
She ignores him completely and runs, leaving Killian behind for the night. She just can't deal with them. (She'll screw that motherfucker up next time she sees him; no point in starting drama in the hospital.)
Campus security doesn't say shit (not like they care anyways) as she returns back to the dorm. The run back she's on the verge of tears, her eyes burn like the fire that ignites from a single spark, but she doesn't cry. What she does do is crawl into bed and feel horrible, without having the capability of going into a slumber. What hurts the most, is sleeping without him. Without his presence in the room, without his strong, lean body pressed against hers, without his nose buried at the nook of her neck. It feels like there's a ghost beside her, a remnant of Killian Jones next to her in bed.
She just waits for daylight, and when it finally comes, she doesn't know what to do. Visit him, bring him back, skill class? Go to class, deal with him later?
Neither of those seem promising enough to sway her in either way. She decides to drop by quick and early to see how he's doing, bring him back to campus, and then go to class. Not some full-proof plan, but it'll do.
When she slips through the door, hoping to not wake him up, it's a dumb idea because of course he's already awake and sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his already messy hair. Even with a cut on his lips, bruises on his right hand knuckles, and a healed cut under his cheek, he still looks attractive as hell.
"Please tell me you're here to take me back to school," Killian complains, stretching his neck. "Bloody hospital beds are horrible to sleep in."
She laughs softly, shaking her head. Sleepless nights are her thing, he at least got some sleep while she couldn't. "Yeah, well you seemed pretty okay with it before, at least you got sleep." Shit, she did not mean to say that. She sighs and suppresses a yawn, ignoring the way his eyebrows knit together and how his eyes grow into the blue of the sea.
"You didn't sleep did you, Emma?"
She hears the guilt - he used her first name damn it. All she does is nod subtly and help him out of bed, ignoring his eyes the entire time. It's like there's a knife in her heart, painful and throbbing while she's unable to retract and take it out. It hurts to much to know she could have lost him even though it was a small fight and nothing massive. She was scared to death. "He's at the hospital" are words she never wants to hear again.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes softly, pulling her in for a hug.
No pulling away comes from her, she just sighs, closes her eyes, and holds onto him tighter, clinging onto him because she's never felt so lost before. Without him, she feels so worthless, and that's something she needs to work and build onto. Without him, she feels so lonely and lost, even though she has other friends she can depend and be with. There's just something about Killian that makes her feel more a whole than half, being a rock or an anchor to her entire life. Sweet god she feels so vulnerable and she hates showing her vulnerable side.
When they return, she grabs everything and heads to class (not before Killian gives her a small goodbye kiss and a 'see you later' though).
She nearly falls asleep in class, even though they're not doing anything... and the week is ending which means she has two days to finish her analysis and explanation for her painting. While she's walking back, she gets a call from David asking if she's alright and if everything between her and Killian are fine. Of course she tells him everything's perfectly fine, but he insists there's something off with her mood. She notices it herself too - she feels like she's pulling away again, the walls are becoming a problem for the millionth time, like she can't keep letting people in because they'll disappoint her, or she'll disappoint them, and fucking shit, her life always is a complete mess.
She just wants to get her art done though, so she goes changes paths and heads to the library. She's not feeling so happy anymore. Emma Swan really just can't have a moment, can she?
But damn, when she finishes her one page explanation about the lyrics, her interpretation, and the reasons of why she chose this and that, it's like a weight being lifted off her shoulders. She doesn't have to deal with it anymore. She just needs to print it, and she's finally done with this project. After two weeks (some sessions with Killian included), all her hard work is finally dealt with, and all that remains is one final sheet, and handing it in.
After not checking her phone for two hours, it's a spam of messages from Killian. Most of them are just wondering where she is, and then there's a message that says he'll be out with David. She takes more pain with her than she should from that.
As expected, the dorm is empty and dark when she returns. And with nothing else to bother her, nothing else to do, she needs to catch up on her sleep, or at least attempt to.
But, no matter what happens, she does fall asleep because her body is practically begging for a break.
When she wakes up, she isn't alone.
A/N: Just because she's done her project, does not mean the story is ending any time soon. There were some hints (major hints) in previous chapters about where this is headed, so make sure to stay tuned! Comments are always appreciated.