Once seated at the restaurant, Emma takes her phone one and starts to play around with it, trying her best to avoid reality. She doesn't have the stomach to watch Mary Margaret and David exchange their nauseating lovey-dovey looks. Emma just about gets through with scrolling through her Instagram feed when she hears a smooth, British voice speak above her.
"David Nolan? Is that your girlfriend?" asks the the voice, disbelievingly. Emma looks up and sees a pair of electric blue eyes staring down upon her. Emma quickly averts her gaze and looks at her lap.
"Nope, this is my girlfriend." David corrects while gesturing towards Mary Margaret. "Mary Margaret Blanchard."
"Well it's lovely to meet you, Mary Margaret." The man turns towards Emma. "What about you, love? What is your name?"
Emma glares at the man, and responds, "My name is Emma and I'm not your love." Emma spits the last word out with disgust.
The man smiles. "Swan, like the bird?"
"Yes, like the bird." Emma responds stiffly. "Why? Is there a problem with my name?" The man's smile fades and was instead replaced by a look of shame. Emma could feel Mary Margaret and David tense up.
"No, It's fine! Anyways, I can hardly judge you on your name when I've got a peculiar name of my own. Killian Jones."
"Oh." Emma says out loud, leaving the group in somewhat of an uncomfortable silence. Trying her best not to make eye contact with this "Killian Jones", Emma decides to study the patterns on the shirt of Killian's sleeve. It's a simple checkered pattern, but Emma can't help admiring the soft green shade they are. Her eyes follow the pattern all the way up to the end of his sleeve, where it ends in a cuff just below his wrist. His wrist, which adorned a dark tally mark. A strong surge of jealousy runs through Emma as she continues to stare at Killian's tally mark. David subtly clears his throat and Emma's head jerks up, her eyes meeting David's. Her face hardens and she tears her eyes
Suddenly, Mary Margaret spoke, clearly unable to stand the awkwardness any longer.
"David, remind me again how you two met."
From then on, there is a steady stream of chatter as David and Killian tell Emma and Mary Margaret stories of their time together while they were in London.
"So, and correct me if I'm wrong, you're telling me that you're the one who convinced David to get a buzzcut?" Emma asks Killian, disbelievingly.
"Yep. You heard me right. You should have seen the look on his face after he got it. I could have sworn he started to cry after he saw himself in the mirror." says Killian jokingly. David glowers fiercely at Killian. "Don't listen to him." David directs at Mary Margaret and Emma. "He's just a drama queen." Emma looks towards Killian, who was blushing comically. Emma rolled her eyes, feeling a sense of unprovoked irritation towards this man. Attempting to change the subject, Emma turns to David, her eyes training on the glass in front of his plate.
"Rum? David, I never knew you were much of a rum drinker." Emma states. Killian snickers.
"He wasn't until I forced a glass of rum down his throat a few months ago. After that, he was hooked."
David scoffs. "And when he said he forced a glass of rum down my throat, he literally means he forced a glass down my throat. He had me in a choke hold and everything."
"It was for your own good, mate! That beer you used to drink was as bad as goat's milk." said Killian, defensively
Emma laughs under her breath while Mary Margaret asks, "Goat's milk? Why on earth do you know what goat's milk tastes like?
"Well, love. That's a long story." Killian answers. "How about we head over to my place and I'll explain it?"
Emma internally groans. "Sounds good" David answers, raising his eyebrows at Emma. Mary Margaret shoots him a look. Killian notices this and without prying, asks,
"How about you, Swan? You okay?"
Emma inhales sharply and plasters on a sugary sweet smile. There goes the rest of her night.
"Duh! How can I turn down a story about goat's milk?" Emma answers, jokingly.
Mary Margaret looks delighted and lets out a laugh, which slowly turns into a yawn. Seeing this sends a blast of fatigue throughout Emma's body. "Hello, jet lag," Emma thinks to herself.
"But first, I think Mary Margaret and I are going to need two of the largest cups of coffee this restaurant offers."