Chapter Fourteen

The corset is tight. A little too tight today. And even though it's November and the air is icy cold, she still feels like she's unable to breathe properly. She's too warm, thanks to the layers of clothing she wears. She has half a mind just to take it all off.

She's glad when her scene, another one with August, comes to an end, signalling she's done for the day. It's only six PM, a rarity for this job, but she'll take the early finish, even if it means she'll have to get up early the next day to make up the hours. In truth, there's not much they can film— they're coming to the hiatus soon and they're already ahead of schedule. It's unusual for them; maybe Isaac's influence isn't entirely a bad thing.

Emma and the rest of the cast are planning to meet for drinks after her scene to celebrate the early finish. It was August's idea. He'd claimed he was starting to become close to all the cast, but Emma has a sneaky suspicion that he's just using it as an excuse to get close to Elsa. Ever since he brought her up, Emma has been watching them. She's always been good at watching people, but even a blind man could see August's feelings for Elsa. Emma often catches him staring at her, only to look away shyly when she noticed. It's cute.

Emma unlaces her corset and changes quickly into her leggings and shirt. The material feels softer against her skin and without all the scratchy lace and the heavy materials, she feels almost naked, as she always does when she rejoins the world of the living.

She unbraids her hair, and is pleasantly surprised to find it fall in gentle waves around her shoulder. She doesn't have time to change before drinks, and there would be little point, especially since they're leaving to go to the bar around the corner.

She touches up her make-up, adding some eyeliner and mascara before she grabs her bag, slings it over her shoulder, and exits the costume trailer.

She steps down the metal stairs into the cool night air. It's pitch black and even though the nights have been darker for some time now, she's still not entirely used to it, especially after spending so much time in the bright lights of the make-up trailer and the studio. The air is crisp with winter and she curses herself, wishing she brought some sort of jacket. Her red leather one would have done nicely, but she'd forgotten to pick it up.

She's so busy cursing herself that she hardly notices that someone's in her path until she walks into them. Or him, since he's taller than her, and more angular. She looks up into his face and her own immediately breaks out into a smile. Killian.

"In a hurry, love?" he asks, with a wide smile.

"Not exactly," she says, folding her arms. She looks him up and down. He's wearing his normal clothes; a shirt and his usual leather jacket. So he was smart enough to bring a coat. Like her, his bag is slung over his shoulder, looking less like a bag, resembling more of a deformed lump. "You finished now, huh?"

"Aye." He takes a step forward to her and she catches the scent of perfume and powder. "So how about you and I set sail?"

She quirks an eyebrow. "Set sail?"

"You know, back to my place. We should probably take advantage of our time off, am I right? And it's such a beautiful night…"

She wrinkles her nose. She's pretty sure it's about to rain. "That would be great Killian, but I can't."

"Ah. Say no more. Henry, is it?"

She shakes her head. "No, it's— I'm going out for drinks with the rest of the cast. You're not coming?"

He frowns, the space between his eyebrows puckering as he shakes his head. "I don't believe I've had an invitation?"

Emma frowns. "You haven't? I'm pretty sure August said he invited you. But I might have misheard him."

She doesn't miss the way Killian's jaw clenches upon hearing August's name. "He said that, did he?"

"Yeah, that's what he said." She tilted her head. "Unless… he did ask you and you misheard?"

"I sincerely doubt that." His words lack warmth.

She frowns. "So, are you coming or not? Because—" She checks her watch. "I kinda really need to go now if I'm gonna get there on time."

"I'm sure August won't miss your company for a few minutes. Or perhaps he will, considering how obsessed he's been with you as of late." He flashes her an empty, sarcastic smile.

Her stomach flips at his words. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on Emma." He gives her another one of those smiles. "Surely you've noticed the way he follows you around like a little lost puppy?"

She bristles. "August doesn't follow me around."

"Of course not. That's why he's been at my house every week to watch the episode with us."

"I invited him!" Her voice is a little loud a few passing extras look to them, eyes bright with interest. Emma wraps her arms around herself and takes a step towards him, lowering her voice. It wouldn't be great if news of their disagreement— not even that— got out. The media would have a field day. They're always fighting for a scrap of information about them. "You know I invited him. And if you remember rightly, you'll remember that I asked you if it was okay. You had every opportunity to say no."

He glares at her and she glares back, arms folded. His gaze sears into her but she doesn't move her eyes, not once. She'll stand her ground, as she always does. She knows she's in the right now; Killian is the one being silly. No, more than silly. He's being a complete and utter idiot. It strikes her as completely out of character. Killian doesn't have a tendency to be impulsive. He is so gentle and kind when it comes to her. He always thinks about his words and his actions. He does his best to make her feel loved in every respect. He never pushes her. He is always the perfect gentleman. She struggles to remember a time when he wasn't, but she manages to remember one. It was way back, before they were even together, when—

When Killian believed her and Graham to be together. That had sparked the hostile attitude she sees before her. Her next words, she speaks with caution, eyes fixed on his face.

"Killian, are you jealous?"

"No," he hisses, too quickly. She raises an eyebrow and he shakes his head. "No. I'm not. I have nothing to be jealous of. Why would I?" And then, just like that, his face changes. That mask of anger melts away to something more gentle and familiar. He sighs, his shoulders deflating. When he meets her eyes again, his are sheepish. Slightly ashamed. "I'm being a fool, aren't I?"

"A fool? How very archaic. It seems like you've been getting too wrapped up in Kings and Queens." She means it in more way than one.

He sighs again, nodding. "That I am." He frowns, almost in thought. "I'm sorry, love. I suppose I've just had a difficult day and with Isaac and the scripts—"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." She takes his hand. "I understand. What's happening recently— it would make anyone feel mad. But it's just a show. And I'm more than sure August doesn't harbour any feelings for me."

He looks at her from beneath his eyelashes. "How can you be so sure?"

"He—" She casts her eyes around and then lowers her voice again. "He kinda has a thing for Elsa."

Killian quirks an eyebrow. "Elsa?"

"I know, right?" She allows herself a laugh before all humour drops from her face and she looks up into his eyes, sincerely. She squeezes his hand. "But you should know that if August did feel something for me that wasn't platonic or friendship or whatever, it wouldn't matter. I care about you. I want to be with you."

She pulls him closer by his hand and he rests his forehead against hers. For a moment they stand there, and she breathes in the musky scent of his leather jacket, the lingering aroma of powder and hairspray. For once, she's not worrying about who might be watching or why. She doesn't worry as he strokes her hair with his hand, his other hand settling on her neck. They might be out in the open, but their whole fanbase could see for all she cares. They're in their own little bubble, closed off from the world, closed off from everyone but each other. All she cares about is Killian feeling better— knowing that, though she has yet to say it, she loves him. With every inch of her heart.

Maybe she should say it. Maybe now is the moment.

"I love you," he breathes before she has chance. It's the second time she's heard it since he admitted it the night they were attacked by paparazzi. He's cautious when it comes to those three words, like he's frightened the mention of them might push her away. She takes it as a sign.

"I—"

"Hey, Emma, are you coming?"

The sound makes them both jump, their bubble of intimacy pierced. It's August who holds the needle. Killian sighs, starts to slowly pull back from her. For a second it's like she's in a daze. She shakes her head, trying to get out of it, but her heart is pounding with the adrenaline of the words she was about to say. She feels the adrenaline leave her veins, taking her courage with her.

She looks up at August. She still holds Killian's hand, although he tries to pull away. She doesn't want to let him go. It's strange how there was once a time when she would have shied away from any of his touches, yet now all she wants to do is touch him.

August is dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He stands a little away from the, but he's watching them with an unreadable expression.

"Give me one minute, August?" Emma says, trying to keep her voice light, though she can feel anger bubbling just under the surface.

"Sure thing." But he doesn't make a move to leave them. He just waits.

Swallowing her irritation, Emma looks back up at Killian, and her gaze immediately softens. Like August's, his expression is unreadable and the only thing Emma can gauge from it is that he's annoyed. A muscle jumps in his jaw as he clenches his teeth. But when he speaks, his voice is perfectly calm. "You should go."

Her eyebrows pull together. "You're not coming with us?"

He shakes his head. He's not looking at her; his eyes are on August. "Alas, I have things to do."

"What things?"

"Scripts to read. I have to Skype my brother. Things like that." But he's still not looking at her and that gut feeling decides to make an appearance.

"You're lying to me."

He gives the air around them a small, nonchalant smile. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

Emma reaches out and cups his cheek with her hand, softly moving his head back to face her. His eyes meet hers and there's something empty about them. They make her wish they were still in that bubble of intimacy. She wishes she told him she loved him. She could do it now but August is still lurking and she's not sure how much he can hear. It wouldn't feel right.

So instead she says, "You are acting strange."

Another empty smile. "I'm fine, love." Then he leans in and presses his lips to hers. It's the softest kiss he's ever given her. His lips barely brush hers. "Now go," he whispers. "Enjoy yourself."

He steps away from her, leaving her hand to drop by her side. "Killian—" she tries, but he's already gone, making his way through extras and cameramen. Her voice barely carries through the air—it's weak and feeble— and there's something telling her that she shouldn't go after him, something that makes her feel unsettled by his behaviour. Then he's gone completely and August is by her side, giving her a blinding smile.

"You ready?"

She puts on her best pretend smile. "Sure."

By the time August and Emma get to the bar, only Elsa is there. She's sat alone in a corner, a drink in her hand. She's so shrouded by darkness, they almost miss her at first and with a sinking feeling, Emma realises they're the only ones here.

But then they catch a streak of white-blonde hair amidst the darkness and Emma's chest loosens. The last thing she wants is to be with August alone, not with the way Killian's acting at the moment. But at the same time, she doesn't want to feel like she has to act a certain way. August is her friend. She shouldn't feel like she has to avoid him, just because Killian is a little bit jealous.

Should she?

It was Killian who decided not to come to drinks. He was given the option. At least, that's what she tells herself as she slides into the booth next to Elsa. The leather seat is cool through her leggings. The music isn't too loud, so she's able to talk at almost normal level to Elsa.

"Where is everyone else?" When August had told her about who'd be turning up, he'd told her that Will, Robin and Graham would all be there.

She shrugs. "Couldn't make it, I'm afraid."

"That's a shame," August says, sliding in next to Emma. He sits close to her, so that his leg brushes hers. It's not entirely uncomfortable. "They told me they were looking forward to it."

"Yeah, they were," Elsa says with a shrug. "But Grumpy called them back in. Apparently they don't get to leave early like the rest of us. They have to re-shoot some of the scenes. According to Isaac, that is." She frowns. "Apparently he's not happy with something."

August matches her frown. "That's not very fair."

"That's the business. It's rare that we're called in again but when we are, we have to do it. It's usually on cold, wet nights if the directors are feeling generous." She gives August a smile, her eyes sparkling under the lights. "But let's not be sad. It's not our fault they have to go back to work. I'm just glad that I'm not."

Emma laughs. "How selfless of you."

She shrugs. "What can I say?"

"You know what?" August says. "We should toast. But we need drinks for that. Emma, what can I get you?"

"Just a wine, I think." She glances over at Elsa's glass, which is almost empty. She must have been here a while. "And Elsa needs a top up too."

"Of course, of course. I'll be back in a moment."

He disappears through the people, into the darkness and they watch him go. When he's disappeared completely, Emma sits back in her seat, trying to relax.

"Is Killian not here?" Elsa asks.

Upon hearing his name, Emma feels a pang in her chest. "No, he's… not."

Elsa quirks an eyebrow. It must be Emma's tone, which is far from convincing that everything is alright. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Not exactly. He said he had… stuff," she frowns. "He said he has to Skype his brother. The one who hates me, by the way." She looks down at the polished table, wishing August would hurry up with those drinks. God, she needs one.

"Liam?"

"That's the one."

"Maybe he needs some space. I mean, you guys have been spending a lot of time together. Some would argue that it's too much."

"Maybe." But Emma doesn't feel that way. If anything, she'd rather spend more time with him. It is never enough. And those few precious nights she gets with him alone, without some director telling her what to say to him, feel like diamonds amidst an ocean of glass. She says as much to Elsa, just without the glass metaphor.

"Maybe you should move in together, then," Elsa says.

Emma looks up. "What?"

"Are you honestly telling me the thought hadn't crossed your mind?"

"Honestly? No."

God, no. Not once. She'd never thought about that, not when she was enjoying staying around his house so much. It felt natural, like a routine. She fits into his daily schedule perfectly. Almost too perfectly. But with the way Killian acted over the possibility of a baby, and now the way he's acting with August, she has to ask herself whether he's ready to move in.

Is she?

"Do you want to?" Elsa asks. Her eyes, wide and nonjudgmental, are fixed earnestly on her friend. She has a way of making Emma open up to her, just like Mary Margaret can. Few people have been able to to do that in her life.

"I need to be more drunk for this conversation."

That's when August shows up, drinks in hand. He passes them out and Emma is glad of the distraction. She doesn't like the way her stomach became all fluttery when Elsa mentioned the concept of moving in with Killian. Not to mention the images that crossed her mind. She can see them now; waking up every morning with Killian, making breakfast together, making love whenever they want, wherever they want. The thoughts make her tremble.

But what about Henry? She can't leave him behind, not now she has him back. And she's not sure Killian will appreciate it if she moves a teenage boy into his home, regardless of how many bedrooms and bathrooms he has. Even though Henry spends half of his time at Regina's, it's a huge responsibility and not one she'd want to impose on him unless he was completely sure. And she's not sure he is. Maybe that's why he hasn't asked, even though now she's thinking about it, it seems the most natural thing to do. The most logical step. Moving in should come before marriage and—

Whoa, Emma. Marriage? She hasn't even told him she loves him yet. She'll be changing that, very soon, but it doesn't take away the fact that there are simple too many variables. Not to mention, the media would explode. But at least it would put to a stop to the rumours, replacing them with facts.

"How's your drink?" August asks, nodding to the glass in her hand, untouched by her lips.

She takes a sip and flavour explodes on her tongue. This is what she needs, even though she hasn't eaten. And even though it's impossible, the first sip goes straight to her head. She's already beginning to feel warm underneath her clothes.

Elsa doesn't mention Killian again and Emma's glad. She sits back and listens to Emma and August talk. Anyone could see the way they feel about each other. The way they lean towards each other, past Emma, like she's a third wheel. That's how she feels, and she finds herself wishing Killian was here. She pulls out her phone to text him but then she remembers how strange he was acting earlier, and decides against it, slipping it back into her pocket.

"And then," August says, pausing to take a sip of his drink. Elsa's eyes are wide and on him. It's like Emma doesn't even exist. "I said, "Let the woman go, fool," and he did." Elsa erupts in laughter, but Emma has missed the conversation, her thoughts too wrapped up in Killian.

"What do you think, Emma?" August asks.

Oh shit.

She looks up. "About what?"

He and Elsa look between each other and he gives a chuckle. "The story."

She decides to be honest, biting her lip. "I'm sorry, August but I wasn't listening."

He doesn't seem to be too offended. He laughs, shaking it off. "Story of my life. Most people don't listen to me. They find my stories the work of fiction."

Emma quirks an eyebrow. "Are they?"

"Now that would be telling."

All three of them laugh.

"Don't mind Emma," Elsa says. "She needs to cheer up a little bit, but she's thinking about Killian."

Emma shoots her a look— she's not sure Killian will appreciate being mentioned in Elsa way especially to August— but she doesn't seem to catch it. Or she does, and she just chooses to ignore her. The alcohol has loosened her tongue and it's like she doesn't have any control over her words. Emma's more than sure a completely sober Elsa would keep her mouth shut, but it doesn't stop her from groaning when Elsa says, "Emma is annoyed that Killian chose to Skype his brother than come out with us."

"Huh." August looks at Emma. "He didn't want to come?"

"He said he hadn't been invited. I thought you invited him?"

August shakes his head. "I planned to but I never got round to it. I thought I'd leave the job up to you."

Emma frowns. She's more than sure August had told her he'd invited Killian and Killian had said yes, but she lets it go. There's little point in arguing. She must have heard wrong— it wouldn't be the first time she's made a mistake, or thought things had happened when they hadn't.

"But Skyping his brother…" August trails off, shaking his head. "I hope you don't mind me saying Emma, but that's kind of a dick move."

"His brother lives in England. They rarely have time to chat, so it's important that they do." She doesn't know why her words come out so defensive, or why she feels the need to defend Killian against August. He's only stating his opinion.

"Still, he should have come out with us. With you, his girlfriend." August's eyes soften.

"I don't think Liam would appreciate being blown off for me."

He raises his eyebrows. "Why's that?"

"Liam doesn't like Emma," Elsa explains. "For some, unknown reason."

"He read an article about my past. I—" She shakes her head. She doesn't feel embarrassed to say the words; she knows she should own it. "I had Henry in prison. And then gave him up for adoption, so Liam doesn't trust me. I can't really blame him for it."

"But wait a moment." August frowns. "Henry's in your life now, right? Unless some other boy has been watching the episodes with us?"

"No, that's Henry."

"Then you've already made up for your mistakes. Not that anyone can call them mistakes. Not really. Giving a child up for adoption is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it's pretty brave."

Emma looks down at her drink. She hadn't thought of it like that.

"If anything," August continues. "It should make Liam respect you more."

"Too right!" Elsa chimes in. "The bastard needs to get his own head out his ass, it sounds like. He doesn't even know you. He shouldn't be making assumptions about you."

That's true, too, Emma realises.

"It doesn't matter," she says. "It just is what it is."

August takes another sip of his drink before he speaks again. "And what's Liam gonna do when you guys get married and have kids? Not come to your wedding?"

"Whoa there." Emma hardly hears her own laugh over the sound of alarm bells ringing in her head. "Who said anything about marriage?"

August gives her a look. "C'mon, Emma. We all know that it's gonna happen soon. You guys are perfect for each other, and anyone can see how much you care about each other. I'm surprised Killian hasn't popped the question already." He sighs. "He might as well get a move on."

"Hold on. I'm not even sure I want to get married."

"You're not?" August's eyes slink towards Emma. She sees something flash in his face but she's not entirely sure what it is.

"No."

"Yeah, they haven't even moved in together yet," Elsa says.

"Oh wow," August sighs. "Well, that's awkward."

Emma narrows her eyes. "What is?"

"Killian was only telling me the other day he plans to get married and have children. Not now, obviously, but eventually. In the future. He was telling me marriage is a dealbreaker."

Emma doesn't believe that for one second, which sends another sound of alarm bells through her head. Surely, Killian wouldn't talk to August about marriage, especially not with the way he's been acting recently. It doesn't make sense. She narrows her eyes at August.

Elsa seems to be on the same wavelength for she says, "Killian… was talking you you about… marriage and… babies?"

"I was surprised too." He sighs. "But to be honest, I brought it up. I was telling him about a girlfriend I had who kept pressuring me to propose to her, but I didn't want that. I still don't. Marriage, it doesn't appeal to me."

"It doesn't?" Elsa asks, a little weakly.

But Emma's eyes are on August. She's trying to gauge whether he's telling the truth, but it's too dark to see. But part of her can believe Killian deciding to say the complete opposite of what August was saying to August, just to prove he isn't anything like him. It sounds like Killian, but it doesn't necessary mean he wants to marry her now.

Elsa must sense Emma's discomfort for she changes the subject, leaning over to August, patting his arm. "Hey, did you see that programme on the cats?"

"Cats?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it was a documentary about this shelter rehoming cats with lost limbs and it was the most heart wrenching thing I've ever seen."

Emma zones out again, her mind flying to Killian. She wonders what he's doing tonight, after he Skypes his brother. That's if he does skype his brother. Before she mentioned going out with August, he was ready for her to come to his house. Surely he would have known she wouldn't have wanted to Skype his brother, too? It doesn't add up. She's so wrapped up in Killian, again, that she hardly realises Elsa's phone has gone off.

That is until Elsa is cursing out a, "Shoot," eyes glued to the screen.

"What's up?" Emma asks.

"It's Grumpy. He wants me back in work. Apparently one of my scenes came out funny, so they're going to have to refilm it, on Isaac's orders. I'm going to have to go."

"That's a shame," August says.

"I know. Ugh. And I'm drunk. Can you believe it?" She grabs her coat from where she left it in the corner of the booth and pulls it around her shoulders. "I hope they like drunk Elizabeth because that's what they're getting."

Emma laughs. "Sorry, Elsa."

"It's okay." She shimmies out the booth and then she turns to August. "Thank you for the drinks." And then to Emma. "Thank you for the company. We'll have to do this again sometime, with everyone here. Especially Killian; he's the life and soul of the party."

For some reason, Emma isn't entirely convinced that he would have been tonight.

They wave goodbye and watch as she leaves. When she's gone, Emma hisses out, "What's he playing at?"

"Who?"

"Isaac."

August sighs. "I wish I knew." Then a thought strikes him. "Hey— maybe all that power has gone to his head. I'm pretty sure he was only working on small shows until he got this one. It's kind of his big break."

Emma's gaze snaps to his. "You knew him?"

"No, I just researched him. I'm good at researching. Writer's thing, and all." He laughs.

"I see."

They fall into an uncomfortable silence. Emma sips at her drink and stares at the table, searching her brain for something to talk about. Usually they have much to talk about, but tonight, Emma's head is so full of Killian. She can't think of a topic that isn't Killian.

"Do you wanna take a selfie?" August asks.

Emma blinks in surprise. "Sure."

He pulls the phone out his pocket and Emma watches as he turns on his camera. "You get me the followers," he says, as he holds the phone up. "Is that selfish?"

She laughs. "I guess."

"Come closer, Emma."

She shuffles closer to him. He throws an arm around her, pulling her even closer. He leans in until his cheek is pressed against her cheek, his hair brushing her hair. It feels too close, but within a smile and a matter of seconds, it'll be over.

A smile.

A flash.

He brings the phone back down and loads up his instagram. She watches for a moment as he types on his phone, tongue between his teeth, thinking of a caption. After a moment, his face lights up into a smile and he looks up at her. "Wanna hear it?"

"Go on."

He clears his throat. "Emma and I. Drinks. Bar. All alone. :("

"We wouldn't be if Isaac didn't keep stealing all our actors away," she says.

He laughs. "True, true."

They don't stay for much longer. With the absence of Elsa and the ghost of Killian, they're unable to keep the conversation going. They speak a little about work, but that's all. Emma has no interest tonight in listening to August's tales of travelling, or other things he tends to bring up. It isn't long before they part ways.

When Emma gets in, she calls Killian, needing to hear his voice, needing to know that everything is okay.

But she gets his voicemail.

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, but I hope this makes up for it! As always, let me know what you think. I'm sorry it's a bit angsty at the moment. :(