A/N; I am SO sorry for how long it's taken me to get this next chapter up - I hit a bit of a dead end and just couldn't find any inspiration to write all that much over hiatus, but I'm back now! I hope you all enjoy chapter three, it was so fun to write. Enjoy!
If Emma Swan could be described in one word, it would be impatient.
She paced back and forth across the front lobby of the inn, the swiftness of her strides echoing through the thin and quiet air with a certain sense of ferocity. Emma nibbled at the chapped skin of her bottom nip and sucked on the inside of her cheek; she blew out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding and heaved out a heavy sigh before crossing her arms over her chest and giving herself a gentle reassuring squeeze.
The day had practically come and gone as soon as Killian had strode out of the front door several hours ago; the gentle rays that had filtered in through the thin curtains that shielded the windows morphed into bright waves of sunshine around midafternoon, and then they had dimmed into the muted afterglow of the evening sunset, the sky showing off its natural beauty through a sea of colors.
Emma's heart ached in a way that she hadn't thought was possible; she missed the sound of his voice and his the rumbling waves of his laughter, the way he carried himself and interacted with the townspeople, that gentle tilt of his lips that made her stomach flip and her heart clench, that stupidly ridiculous raise of his right eyebrow when he'd catch her subtly admiring him, the annoying yet exhilarating jolt that she would feel inside her veins whenever they'd pass by each other, barely missing the touch of one other's skin with only the tiniest bit of distance between them.
Emma Swan was falling for Killian Jones, and she was falling for him fast.
"If you think any harder I think you'll actually combust," came Elsa's teasing voice, causing Emma to pause her pacing and jump slightly in surprise.
"God," Emma exhaled as her heart race accelerated. "You scared me."
"We've been here for a full two hours!" Elsa replied in exasperation, her lips morphing into a scowl as she nudged away Graham's lanky legs which had been splayed across her lap. He looked up from his phone, blinking blearily as his mop of curly brown hair ruffled from Elsa's rough movements.
"I didn't ask you to stay," Emma retorted, turning to face her friends as she placed her hands on her hips.
Elsa rolled her eyes, "Can you blame us for being worried? You've been here all day, you didn't even come by this afternoon to pick up the lunch order that Mary Margaret placed!"
"You have nothing to be worried about," Emma nearly cried out in frustration, tired of having to repeat herself after Elsa and Graham had barged in precisely twenty-seven minutes after Killian had left (not that she had been counting), scaring her out of her wits and demanding that the three of them go out for some pizza.
Emma had hesitated, causing Elsa's eyebrows to shoot up to her hairline while Graham had furrowed his. She wanted to laugh at her friend's reactions and how they seemed to know her so well; Emma Swan never declined a pizza date, even if it meant she'd be third-wheeling, but she immediately played it off to the best of her ability, giving them an anxious smile and hoping they didn't see through her lie when she said that her parents had given her some extra paperwork to sort out for the day.
"Flower boy will be back soon enough," Elsa reasoned. "He's probably out for the day, working on a fancy new arrangement. You have to get out of here and do something to pass the time. God, you're moping around as if you've just gotten dumped."
Emma opened her mouth to retort, but Graham beat her to it.
"Who the hell is flower boy?"
Elsa immediately reached over to give his arm a smack and Emma bit back a snort of amusement at his affronted expression.
"Emma's lover," Elsa supplied, sticking her tongue out at Graham as he made a face at her. Graham waggled his eyebrows as he turned to face Emma, and Emma scoffed in response.
"He is not my lover," she said defensively. "It's been two days since I met him, I barely even know the guy."
"Yeah, but you're in love with him." Elsa stated, her icy blue eyes flitting over her nails as she didn't spare Emma a second glance.
"I am not!"
"He could be a psychopath for all we know," Graham supplied in amusement.
"You're not helping," Elsa hissed. "My point is that Emma's in love with him. I mean, look at her! She's whipped."
"I am not."
"She so is," Elsa sing-songed, her tone light and her expression utterly amused. "Come on, Emma, you're being boring. Let's continue this discussion over some pizza, yeah? I'm starving."
Emma spun on her heel, making her way back towards the front desk as she rolled her eyes.
"You two lovebirds go ahead," she called over her shoulder towards Elsa and Graham. "I do have paperwork to finish, and I promised mom and dad that I'd have it done for them since they decided to call it an early night."
"See, even your parents are having a night to themselves!" Elsa argued as Emma watched Graham struggle to untangle his limbs from Elsa's. "Graham, you piece of – Snow White and Prince Charming, Emma! You're the princess in this story, it's time for your happy ending, too."
"Wow," Emma laughed as her friends joined her near the front. "Has Anna been practicing more fairytale-themed decorations for the cakes? You've been reading too much again."
Graham chuckled and Elsa muttered under her breath, her nose scrunched up in distaste as she wrapped her sweater around her thin frame.
"Are you sure you don't wanna come?" Elsa asked with a sigh, her eyes wide and hopeful as she stood beside Graham. "We'll order a large pizza with all our favorite toppings."
Emma was tempted. Almost.
She shook her head, "Sorry, I don't really feel like being the third wheel on this little impromptu date of yours."
"It's not a date!" Elsa and Graham snapped simultaneously, causing Emma to let out a burst of laughter.
"Of course it's not," Emma winked. "But seriously, you two go have fun, I'll be fine."
"Party pooper," Elsa mumbled as Graham linked his arm through hers and began to drag her away.
"Who even says party pooper anymore?" Emma teased. "Child!"
"Love denier!" she called back from halfway through the front door.
"Look who's talking!"
"Shut up!"
"Bye, Emma!" Graham hollered, and Emma stifled a laugh at her friends' antics.
"Night, Sheriff! Watch over that one, will ya?"
"You know me," she heard him faintly respond as the distance between them grew. Emma shook her head, allowing the front door to fall shut and close behind her with a click.
Emma sighed, allowing the arms of the silence that surrounded her to wrap her in a comforting embrace. She turned towards the old grandfather clock that stood proudly beside the blazing fireplace, catching sight of its rusting hands as it read only half past seven. She pursed her lips, her eyes wandering around and over the lobby and she wracked her mind with things she could occupy herself with for the time being.
She fell into her office chair with a huff, rolling over towards her laptop before hitting a few keys and turning up the volume as gentle melodies crooned from the speakers set up around the front of the lobby.
Her eyes caught sight of the orchids as she stood, and she momentarily froze as bright blue eyes and a charming smile flashed into her mind. She shook her head, her heart strings tugging annoyingly within the confines of her chest and she found herself tracing the outlines of the slightly wilted petals with the tip of her index finger.
For a full half hour Emma distracted herself with irrelevant, mundane chores, and she wandered in and out of her room, humming whatever song was playing at the moment under her breath as she worked.
Emma organized a stack of books that had been messily hidden away at the corner of the desk, probably her father's doing, and unabashedly smiled at the hardcover that laid proudly on top: a decently-sized book on parenting. When her parents had found out that Mary Margaret was pregnant three short months ago, the three of them had been ecstatic. The whole town had rejoiced at the thought of another member being added to the Charming family, and her parents had gone mad trying to find all the old books that they had relied on when they were expecting Emma.
She took her time arranging them in the growing library that resided in her parents' room and precisely five minutes away, Killian Jones found himself and his old battered pickup truck rumbling back in to the quaint little town of Storybrooke.
Killian let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding as the town's welcome sign finally came into view. Earlier that day, he had gone off to deliver the orchids to the owner of the flower shop in the next town over, deciding that it was finally time to give his arrangements of orchids a new home rather than the stuffy backseat of his truck.
The commute to the town of Misthaven was shorter than he anticipated, and he found that his journey back to his lodge and blooming greenhouse near the forest on the outskirts of town wasn't too far away from Storybrooke, either.
He had gone back to his cozy lodge, immediately missing the homey aura that the Charming Inn had provided. Killian showered quickly before stuffing a few belongings and clean clothes into his backpack, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to give Storybrooke a bit more exploration. He stumbled into his greenhouse afterwards, checking up on his flowers and deciding to heave several premade arrangements into his truck to gift the tiny corner shop of flowers that he had seen right beside Granny's Diner. Killian pursed his lips and scratched his fingers through his growing stubble, frowning slightly at the realization that none of the arrangements he had already was the one for Emma.
Killian wandered through the greenhouse with a newfound sense of determination; he strolled up and down the aisles of flowers, observing the ones that had freshly bloomed. He stopped short in front of a section of yellow buttercups, their petals bowing openly towards rays of sunlight that filtered in through the glass windows.
He carefully snipped at the stems of the freshly bloomed buttercups until he had a decently-sized handful, and he returned to his makeshift work station in his lodge, sifting through his messily organized piles of colorful flowers for companions to the buttercups. Ten minutes later he blinked, not realizing how fast he had worked until he saw the new arrangement before him.
Buttercups, bluebells, freesias, and large leaves of green complimented each other with their stark colors, and no, Killian totally hadn't thought of Emma while he had put together the arrangement; he definitely hadn't thought of her and her golden hair that resembled rays of sunshine, or her bright green eyes that altered in shades based on the lighting that she was standing under, or her sunny smile that made his insides melt, easily leaving him feeling simultaneously boneless and breathless.
He felt his cheeks burn with heat as his heart sped up at the thought of seeing her again. Jesus, he thought to himself, snap out of it.
He parked under that very same awning that had sheltered his truck from the onslaught of the storm that one fateful night he had stumbled into The Charming Inn, his orchids in tow. This time, he exited his truck with a sense of determination. He glanced over his shoulder at the inn, its front window lit up by a warm glow that illuminated the fairytale-like pathway that led to its entrance.
Killian hitched the cardboard box that held Emma's arrangement under his arms as he strode towards the inn, exhaling softly and watching as his breath fogged up and curled away into the cool evening air. The front door to the inn opened softly as he entered, and he was immediately greeted by the warm afterglow of the fire that danced delicately in the fireplace.
The curtains were drawn and fairy lights twinkled in elegant dips and curves as they floated over his head. Gentle melodies crooned from the speakers and the lights were dimmer than he remembered them to be, and Killian decided that he hadn't ever felt more at home.
He stepped further into the front lobby, stomping his boot-cladded feet lightly over the mat that sat right at the entrance, not wanting to walk in and leave a mess behind him just has he had done upon his first visit.
The sound of light footsteps caused Killian to freeze, and he momentarily began to panic; he hoped that it wasn't Mary Margaret or David that had stayed for the night, but he knew it was always Emma who preferred to take the later shift. Killian huffed out a breath, relaxing slightly as the faint sound of humming joined the mixture of sounds.
He glanced up and suddenly, she was there; she had a book held open in her hands, her palms holding either end of the hardcover as she hummed under her breath and allowed her eyes to flit over the page quickly. Her hair was open and loose, tumbling over her right shoulder in frizzy curls, and Killian could've sworn at that moment that he hadn't ever seen a more beautiful sight.
Emma looked up just as she was about to turn the page to her book, and she nearly stumbled over her own feet. Everything went still as she caught sight of him, and she wanted to pinch herself that his presence wasn't a hallucination after having missed him all day. She felt her eyes widen and her jaw threatened to drop in surprise, but instead she stood up straighter in place and resisted the urge to run a hand through her hair self-consciously.
Emma openly gaped at him, her heart thudding violently in her chest as the skin around his eyes crinkled upwards slightly. His hair was a disheveled mess, tousled from the wind and jutting out in random directions from his own fingers. His tanned skin practically glowed under the dim lighting of the room and she decided that navy blue was her new favorite color, as it was the shade of his long-sleeved Henley that he was wearing. His upper lip curled slowly before revealing his sparkly set of teeth, and she couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh at his grin.
"Hi," she finally managed, fidgeting slightly under the scrutiny of his gaze.
Killian grinned, "Hi,"
"You're back," she couldn't help but voice, immediately wanting to smack herself for stating the obvious.
"You noticed," he replied in a soft, teasing tone.
"Of course I did," Emma replied faintly, causing his grin to grow. She smiled shyly, bowing her head slightly before peering back up at him curiously after catching sight of the box in his hands. "What's in the box?"
"I was hoping you'd ask," he said excitedly, stepping around her and setting it on the front desk easily. "It's a gift."
Emma raised an eyebrow before blinking at him incredulously, recognizing the sincerity in his response.
"A gift?" she queried hesitantly.
Killian nodded, "For you."
Emma blinked, "For me?"
Killian laughed, nudging her with his shoulder and nodding towards the box in encouragement as he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his denim jeans.
Emma hesitated, finding the need for a gift absolutely ridiculous, yet her heart stuttered in her chest and she willed herself to maintain her composure. She opened the box, picking at the flaps of cardboard before peering inside.
Killian watched, entranced, as Emma's breathing seemed to still. The apples of her cheeks tinged pink as her hands reached inside and pulled out the floral arrangement designed especially for her, and his stomach flipped as a slow smile spread across her lips.
Emma turned to face him, the vase of flowers still in hand as she tilted her to her right, her eyes light and playful.
"This is for me?" she questioned, her voice breathy and the pupils of her eyes blown wide.
Killian nodded furiously, "Do you, uh, do you like it?"
Emma grinned slowly, a faint flush of pink dusting across her skin, "Did you make it? Yourself?"
"Uh," he stuttered, feeling his own skin heat up as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."
"I love it," Emma responded, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together. Killian's breathing hitched as he stared down at their intertwined hands, and she bit back a smile before feeling the need to continue, "I mean, not that I wouldn't love it if you didn't make it. I still would, uh, I just like that you, y'know, thought of me which is why you put this together and brought it to me."
God, she thought to herself. It hasn't even been ten minutes and I've already made myself look like a total idiot and I'm already smiling more than I have all day.
Killian blinked, taken aback momentarily by her babbling before he found himself coughing into his free hand to cover up his laughter. Emma chuckled as his hand squeezed hers, letting her know that he was just as nervous and anxious as she was.
"Sorry," Emma muttered, a wave of embarrassment washing over as she looked up to find Killian's amused expression.
"No, you're fine," he said with a shake of his head, immediately wanting to take his words back as the both of them stilled, realizing that there were two sides to the same coin at that moment. He resisted the urge to groan as he caught sight of Emma biting her lip, most likely attempting to keep another nervous bout of laughter at bay. "I mean, shit, I just meant –"
"It's okay," Emma reassured him with an easy laugh, her eyes alight with a beautiful sense of happiness. Killian's heart surged at the sight. "Do you, uh – d'ya wanna stick around for dinner or something? I, uh, made some pasta earlier and will have a ton of leftovers otherwise."
She ended her sentence in a questioning manner, cringing to herself at how awkward she sounded. Emma screwed her eyes shut for a brief moment, wanting to laugh at herself out of embarrassment; she didn't even know if he was staying, for goodness' sake. She tried to not let her hopes up, but her heart hammered away wildly in her chest as she caught sight of Killian's bright grin.
"Like a date?" he asked lightly, teasing her but immediately wishing he could take his words back as Emma paled.
"I – I mean," she stumbled. "I guess so? Only if you want it to be. We don't have to, of course, if you don't want to."
"I would love to," he replied, shuffling closer towards her and brushing a strand of her hair out of her face to send her a reassuring smile.
Emma let out a laugh of disbelief, unable to keep a smile of her own from growing on her lips. "Okay," she breathed, tugging on his hand as she led him towards the back room. He stumbled over his own feet, surprised by her actions and hiding his blush as she turned over her shoulder, letting out a bright, joyous laugh. "I'll need help adding the final touches and stuff," she explained. "The pasta just finished cooking, but the sauce isn't ready yet."
Killian watched as she flitted around the abstract room that seemed all too small and big at once; she sauntered towards the back right corner, where a mini kitchen stood in place. A faded plush sofa with several quilted throws and decorative cushions sat adjacent to the wall which held a numerous amount of shelves, each of them mounted with a random array of things.
He found himself gravitating towards a shelf that housed several picture frames, each of them displaying snapshots of Emma and her parents. He smiled fondly at the little girl with curly blonde hair, bright green eyes, and an endearing toothy smile.
"Killian?" he heard her call, and he turned his head over her shoulder, catching her gaze as she peeked around the room.
"Over here," he responded, stepping out from the shadows of the corner of the room and watching as she let out a breath. He shot her a smile, "Need some help?"
"Please," she laughed slightly, shifting the bowls of pasta in her arms as she gripped a bottle of sauce. Killian stepped in front of her, taking the bowls from her, the cool surface of the glass simmering against the heat of his skin. Their hands brushed, and the contact nearly caused the bowl to tumble out from Emma's hands.
"Don't worry, I got it," Killian reassured as he took in her horrified expression. She breathed out a sigh of relief, giving him a small smile as she gathered her hair in her hands and brushed it over one shoulder. Killian swallowed at the sight of the pale skin of her slender neck in the dim room, and he resisted the urge to reach over and fiddle with strands of her hair.
They sat together on the couch, their bodies sinking into the plush material causing the both of them to burst out into laughter simultaneously. Emma shared the story of how the sofa came to be and didn't bother to hide the embarrassing antics of her father at the garage sale that he had first found the sofa at. He told her about his parents back in Ireland and the story of how they fell in love; it was his favorite story he had ever heard, even though his parents had separated when he was rather young, crushing his hopes of love but having that tiny glow of hope remaining in his heart.
Emma rambled on about how much she loved the sea after Killian told her that his older brother, Liam, lives near the Irish coast with his wife and newborn daughter. Emma shared stories about her childhood best friend, Lily, and all the trouble that they had gotten into when Emma was off at college. She talked about coming back to Storybrooke with her parents after they had moved away for some time and how they came to opening up the Inn. He told her about how he became interested in flowers and botany; it was his mother and her undeniable admiration towards nature and its beauty, and he figured he could constantly supply people with happiness while sharing the beauty of nature through his own work.
"What's your favorite flower?" she asked him, curiosity getting to the best of her.
He shrugged, "It depends, I guess. Varies a lot. Different flowers mean different things, so I guess it goes with whatever I'm feeling or thinking at the moment."
"Huh," Emma murmured, snorting lightly as he slurped at his pasta, a boyish grin making his way onto his face as Emma grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the corners of his lips.
They continued to exchange stories, adding in contagious laughter and heart-stopping smiles. Two hours later, they found themselves tangled in each other's presence; Emma's head rested on his chest, his cheek was pressed into her hair and their palms were held out in front of them, fingers intertwined as they studied each other's hands.
"Thank you for tonight," Killian whispered, his breath washing over her cheek as she turned to face him.
Emma smiled shyly, "Thank you for coming back."
"Always," he vowed, causing Emma's breathing to shallow as she took in the sincerity that swam in his eyes.
"It's late," Emma whispered reluctantly, sitting up and harshly swallowing the ball of emotion that clogged her throat. She took their empty bowls of pasta off of the coffee table and placed them in the sink, breathing steadily in and out through her nose.
She hesitantly returned to him, wiping the palms of her hands on her jeans as she slowed her footsteps and stood in front of him. He tilted his head to the side, giving her an adoring smile that made her stomach flip and her heart flutter, before holding out his hand for hers.
"May I walk you back to your room, milady?" he asked teasingly, taking her hand in his and leading her out of the backroom.
Emma nodded as she let out a laugh, her heart soaring in her chest out of gratefulness and giddiness as she trailed behind him.
"Which hallway?" he queried as he stopped short near the stairs that led to the second floor.
Emma flushed under his curious gaze, opening and closing her mouth as she fumbled for a way to tell him that her room was right across from his, not that she had intentionally made it that way.
"What is it?" he asked with a slight laugh, an eyebrow arching up as she squirmed under his scrutiny.
"I promise that I didn't do this on purpose," she finally said as she led him towards her room. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, thinking they were on his way to his room before she stopped short in front of the door directly opposite of his.
Killian let out a light chuckle, realizing the irony of the situation and attempting to stifle his laughter.
"This happened completely by chance," she insisted, holding her hands up as she let out a laugh of her own. "I drew your key from the chest completely at random, I didn't know your room was gonna be the one right across from mine."
"Well, maybe," he began lightly, taking a strand of her hair and curling it around his finger. "It was fate."
Emma stared up at him, swallowing harshly as she momentarily lost control of her own breathing for the briefest of moments.
"Maybe," she finally managed. As a boost of confidence surged through her, she stepped up on her tip toes and she leaned into him, her nose brushing against the roughness of his stubble before quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. She smiled to herself as she listened to his breathing hitched, and she quickly stepped away, shooting him a smile as she swiftly unlocked the door to her room. "Goodnight, Killian."
"Goodnight," he whispered in response, a bright grin spread across his face as he stared after her. "Emma, wait," he said, stepping into her door frame before she could shut it. "Pink carnations."
"What?" Emma asked breathlessly, a befuddled expression taking over her features as she blinked at him.
"My favorite flower," Killian laughed. "At the moment I'd say they're pink carnations."
"Pink carnations," Emma repeated. "What do they mean?"
"Gratitude," he murmured, stepping closer to her as he reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. "I'm grateful that I came across this inn and met you, although that freak thunderstorm that drenched me wasn't the highest of my moments. But I think it'll make a hell of a story one day."
Emma's tongue suddenly felt too heavy for her to speak as she fumbled with her words, her heart stuttering inside her chest as she became hyper aware of their close proximity and his warm, enticing touch.
Killian leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, running his fingers through her hair as he removed his hand from the back of her neck. She breathed him in, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of his presence came and went.
"Goodnight, Emma," he said with one final smile.
"Goodnight."