A/N: Enjoy and have a happy Friday the 13th :) Thanks for all the favs, follows and feedback! (haha triple f)

Prompts-Send to my tumblr, as-you-wishlove

Disclaimer: I do not, sadly, own Once Upon a Time, or any of its characters. One can only dream :c

To this day, Emma was still uncertain as to what particular shade of blue his eyes were.

It was, to be honest, a trivial issue, but it bothered her nonetheless and for some reason when she was alone she found her thoughts floating back to that small matter of the color of his eyes.

When Emma had first met the man formerly known as Captain Hook-not Killian Jones, that came much, much later-she was taken aback by the sharp coldness of his eyes and how they cut through her, piercing her soul. Despite the fact that they were beautiful, his eyes (she could admit that freely now), and were a light blue a shade lighter than the sky, what haunted her the most was what his eyes held.

Nothing. No emotion driving him, as if his feelings had been ripped from his body and all that was left was a shell. Sure, he had charisma and charm at first, she would have given him that, but he looked empty. No smile reached his eyes, no anger set them ablaze.

And how he had gone so far, Emma had no desire to know, but it scared her, how alive but dead he was. Part of her felt sympathy towards him, but most of her was enthralled and trapped by him and she needed to escape and run away from him, and that she did.

She remembered the first time she had seen his eyes filled with an emotion, though. It was a lethal combination of fury and sorrow and she could see all he wanted was revenge when he hurt Belle but the former Dark One, of all people, was not a force to be reckoned with.

Apparently, neither was Captain Hook.

When she caught his gaze, though just for a second, she wanted to melt into the ground, which was saying a lot, because Emma Swan did not back down. But his eyes, how they overflowed with such anger and power and passion and hatred, made her realize that however his first love, Milah, had died, Rumplestiltskin had a part to play in it.

It frightened her and still made her shudder when she thought of how black his eyes turned, such a deep navy blue that the whites of his eyes looked unaturally vivid and his pupils could no longer be seen.

Even to this day, she was sure it was the lowest she had ever seen him.

She then observed him, his actions and his face, when he came back to help rescue Henry. She was just gauging to see if he was sincere, if it showed on his face and in his eyes (at least, that's what she told herself) and she was surprised at how utterly different his eyes had looked from before.

It was like observing a lake thaw out for the first time, as if the heat and intensity of her watchful glare had melted him. (And that was exactly when she should have sensed there was something there but she refused to see it and now she was stuck, stuck and trapped and perfectly happy with him but she had never imagined it...)

He appeared more like a captain and less like a pirate, as if he had once been a man of honor (she hadn't know then but she knew now, who he truly was). Though she ignored it, she could see his hurt now, the little flowers of pain blooming behind that wall of ice he had constructed brick by brick. She could see herself in his eyes, her reflection, she could read him like an open book as he did her and it just pissed her off so much, that a person could have eyes like he did. They trapped her and ensnared her and she just could not run away from him.

When exactly had he ceased to become Captain Hook and started to become Killian Jones? When had his eyes changed from empty to overflowing to full and complete? She was never sure.

Maybe it was when he took them to Neverland, or perhaps it was when they had shared that kiss full of fire and fervor and intensity. Maybe it was when he told her he loved her, or when they returned to Storybrooke and he gave her space and they were spared from the curse and he saved her, he was the savior this time for all of them (but especially her, oh god how he'd saved her and fixed her and made her whole).

But the conclusion she always came to was this: All she knew was that every time she met his eyes, she now saw an ocean, an ocean she was drowning in, one that was filled with hope and love and sacrifice. It was undeniable, and she knew that the boy with the eyes of the sea had saved her.

One could take him away from the sea but one would never take the sea out of him. He'd swept her off her feet and into his ocean and he'd mended her and made her whole. And it all started, she reveled, with one look at his eyes.