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Chapter 4:
Crashing into my bed seems like it would give me a little relief. It doesn't. I toss and turn yet my mind still can't seem to focus on anything other than Killian.
I was sure he was going to kiss me. I was sure I wanted to kiss him. If he would've just leaned in a little sooner, than maybe maybe Milah would've gotten the hint and backed off.
But what were the signs? As much as I want him and will probably always want him (despite my fruitless efforts at numbing my heart), he has shown no indication of wanting me back.
Hitting some guy in a bar was a sign of possessiveness and anger, not of love. And almost kissing me in the alley could really be attributed to anything. I was his girlfriend after all, and Killian is a man that doesn't easily forget. I mean he didn't get over Milah for hundreds of years. He was over me in a matter of seconds it seems. That must mean something right?
All I know is that our almost kiss doesn't have anything to do with wanting me back. We both know that I'm better off alone. He knows this because for the better part of our relationship, I couldn't tell him that I loved him, despite knowing since after our return from Neverland. And I know this because I know myself. I know how screwed up I really am. I know about the faint marks on my arm that no one else (including Killian) knows about, and I know how much deeper my emotional scars run.
Turning over in bed, I try to get comfortable. Despite the flow of tears and the hurricane of emotions going on in my tortured brain, I feel exhausted, and sleep is ever so slowly seeping into every pore of my body. Turning over once more and adjusting my pillow, sleep finally overtakes me and I fall into a steady trance.
I awake with a loud gasp and sit straight up in bed. Sweat covers my forehead and my hands are trembling. Nightmares are nothing new to me, but this one struck me to the core. I was dreaming of my funeral. A dream that I had quite often in my youth. After I found my family and found Killian, this loneliness that plagued me most heavily in my dreams, just disappeared. I was happy, truly exhilaratingly happy. Not anymore.
I am miserable. Once again. As if I couldn't get all the misery out of my system during the first 28 years of my life. Curling myself into a ball, I rock back and forth on my bed, desperately trying to comfort myself. My bones ache with loneliness. My eyes fill up with tears once more, and I can't do anything to stop it. I just let myself feel all the sadness, all the guilt, and all the shame I can. After what seems like an hour, but really what must be 20 minutes, I stop sobbing. I just simply rock back and forth, trying to keep the tears at bay. A task that is proving almost impossible as my eyes cloud up once more.
A loud bang breaks me out of my self-imposed anxiety attack. A cloud of black smoke makes its way under my door and into my room. The door knob turns slowly, as if the person on the other side of the door is still contemplating whether or not to come in.
I turn my body to face my window, not wanting the other person on the other side of the door to see me in my weakened state. The door creaks open slowly, and the person's heavy boots trud heavily on my hardwood. I immediately recognize the foot work. Killian. I turn further away from him, not wanting him to see me cry. After a few moments, I turn slowly around finally ready to recognize his presence in my room and I wipe my eyes. The tension is killing me. What I see when I turn around startles me. Killian is taking off his shoes, setting them neatly next to my bed. I'm about to open my mouth and start a line of questioning when he stops me.
"I'm still mad at you" he says, in a determined voice.
"Then why are you here?" I retort both in confusion and growing anger.
"Because darling, as odd as it may seem, I have the immense pleasure of hearing your thoughts and feeling most of your emotions, especially the intense ones, that you dear swan are inclined to experience. In short, I can't sleep."
His flippant tone doesn't match his serious message. Embarrassment wouldn't be enough to cover the range of emotions I had finding out that he of all people can feel my pain. The only question that comes to mind is: how?
He sees the questioning expression on my face, and precedes to read me like an open book and answers my question without me having to say it.
"We're the dark ones. Like it or not we're connected in more ways than one. Now, hop into bed Swan, the sooner we fall asleep, the sooner you'll feel better, and the sooner I can leave. For good this time"
I shake my head in protest. Nope, absolutely not. Not happening. There's no way we're sharing a bed now of all times. For two very independent and bold people with no problems being sexually active in the past, we had never actually had sex. We didn't have time, okay? And we weren't going to start tonight, broken up and angry with each other.
This time he begs and resorts to a new low.
"C'mon Swan, it's not like we both don't know you still have feelings for me," he says with a smirk.
There it is, there's the darkness coming out. For a while, I didn't think the darkness had altered Killian that much. He didn't appear to be the dark one on the outside, I mean his outfit choices hadn't changed that much. My first thought is to feel self-pity. My second is anger.
"Is that a threat I ask?" my voice remaining steadfast, my eyes holding his straight on. The sexual tension boiling hot in the room.
He smirks, the bastard. He then proceeds to strip of his coat and his jeans, and make his way over to the bed.
He lies comfortably on my sheets, his arms crossed behind his head.
"Coming Swan?"
"I'm not gonna get rid of you tonight am I?" The fight leaving me.
"Don't act like you want me to sweetheart. Remember I can feel your emotions"
"Hmm, like to have your cake and eat it too huh, Killy" I retort, proud of my snippy response.
I know he hates when anyone calls him that, and somehow this gives me great satisfaction. I won't be the only one embarrassed tonight will I?
"Just get in bed darling" he responds grumpily.
With that, I make my way to the opposite side of the bed, getting in quickly under the covers.
I lie as far away from him as possible. My eyes remain wide open as I stare out the window and try to calm my breathing. Tears are still at the edge of my eyes, threatening to run silently down my cheeks. I curl further into myself, almost as if I'm protecting myself with my own arms.
I feel myself being pulled backward. I'm being pulled into warmth. His pair of strong arms wrap around me, and bring me into his embrace. Immediately I feel better. A sense of belonging hits me immediately and for the first time in weeks, I feel at peace. Finally I am able to drift off to sleep.