A/N: Happy summer! I'm officially 1/3 a lawyer and 100% full child! I hope you are all feeling ok and not as dead from the finale as I am. I am so proud of Emma and her growth but also I am lying dead in a ditch overwhelmed by feels. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! I had fun writing it -love steph
Chapter Six- Across The Universe
I wake up once again to the sound of waves crashing against the shore and I realize that instead of waking up alone, my arm is draped across Emma's bare stomach, her back to me, and her body molded against mine in a perfect fit. It's early, and I gander that it's no earlier than seven in the morning by the way the sun streams into her room and reflects off of her sun-drenched hair.
Last night was different than the rest. After making an appearance at the Vanity Fair After Party, we slinked back to Malibu where we walked along the shore and talked and talked until I felt like my jaw was about to run away on its own. We sat out there on the porch listening to the waves crash against the shore, never in silence, her back nestled against my chest with my arms around her. She finally told me about Neal, her complete story up until the moment she met me. I held her close as she cried, showing me a side of Emma Swan that I couldn't have fathomed into existence. The sex as usual was extraordinary, maybe even better than before. I know I wasn't alone in feeling the electricity in the air as I moved inside her, her jagged breath and moans setting the background music to the rhythm of our lovemaking. Because it was just that, when I moved inside Emma last night, I was making love to her and I don't deny it. Which is why I am terrified.
Absolutely scared shiteless.
Of what I'm terrified I couldn't possibly say. I could be terrified about the fact that I'm developing strong feelings for the lass. But I could also be terrified that she's developing them for me. As she held onto me when she cried last night, I felt that she was holding onto me as more than comfort, but for dear life. She was choosing me as the person to open up to after all that has happened to her and unbeknownst to her, she was placing a burden on my shoulders that I was not worthy to bear, or prepared to bear.
I don't want to be another disappointment for her. I don't want to be the source of her discomfort, I don't want to be the source of her sadness, and given my track record, the fact that I am positively still in love with Milah, and the notion that whatever we have was doomed to fail from the beginning, I know that I can't save Emma from heartbreak unless I nip whatever this is while it's young and fragile.
"Killian, I can practically hear you thinking." Emma's sleepy voice brakes my train of thought as they are trying to convince me that breaking things off with her is for the best. She turns to look at me with her bright green eyes, the smile on her face lighting them up with the familiar devious mirth that has slowly crept back into her gaze over the past weeks. I feel my breath hitch in my throat, whatever snarky remark I have for her die in the back of my mind before I'm able to say anything to her. I'm falling for her, headfirst and with rocks lining my pockets, sure to drown me in her laugh, in her everything if she lets me.
Terrified, I am absolutely terrified.
"Killian, are you okay?" she asks concerned and the only reply I can muster is to bring her face close to mine and kiss her. She kisses me back and, soon, I am ready for her. We fall into an easy rhythm with each other, her palms flat against my chest as she lifts herself slowly along the length of my shaft and my breathing mixing in tune with her moaning. As the sun rises, it fuses itself with the brightness of her hair and makes her look like a sunlit vision above me. It takes everything from my part to not let her bring me up with her, burning me with her brightness in the process.
Tomorrow, I'll end things tomorrow.
-/-
As I walk around my apartment later that day, I'm unable to rid myself of the thought of Emma Swan and the way she looked this morning. She looked free, happy, and as bright as the sunrise behind her. She looked content and at ease, almost as if she felt right at home. I can't be her home, I think just as my phone buzzes next to me.
"Liam?" I ask out loud when my brother doesn't start talking the moment our call is connected. I can't help but wonder why he's calling me, seeing as he rarely ever does for something positive.
"Killian, are you home?" Liam asks through the phone, his voice noticeably ragged and out of breath.
"Aye." I answer, knowing full well that he must be on his way to my apartment. Calling while he's already here tends to be his defining characteristic.
"Brilliant, open up."
I walk over and open up the door and sure enough, my older brother is right outside of it. Without saying a word he walks right past me and goes straight to my computer, and pulls up a video.
"Hello to you too, Liam." I say, shaking my head at him and at his noticeably excited self.
"Sorry, this can't wait little brother." He says, not even bothering to look at me. I roll my eyes as he pats the couch next to him and he motions at me to sit.
"Younger brother." I sigh automatically.
"Sod off, little brother." The video plays and I immediately recognize it as my altercation with Lilith Page last night. Bloody brilliant, here we go. When it finishes and my vehement speech towards Page is no longer, I look up to an expectant Liam, his eyebrows raised incredulously.
"Look, Liam. I hardly think that defending Swan, shows instability alright? It was a fuck-up and I apologize." I start defensively but Liam just laughs and shakes his head at me, his hand resting condescendingly on my shoulder. "What in God's name are you laughing at?" I ask him, my eyebrows knit in confusion.
"It's just so obvious, isn't it?" A grin starts growing on his face but I have no idea what he's going on about. If he's not here to yell at me, then why is he here?
"Obviously not, because I'm not following what's so amusing to you." I tell him and he replays the video and points at me then at Emma.
"Killian, you love her. Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don't? Look at the way you look at her! It's obvious, little brother." He says animatedly. I know why he's happy that something like this were to happen to me, ever since Milah left me I've been a broken shell of a man. That is, until Emma came into the picture.
"Younger bro—wait, hold on. Love? Don't be idiotic, Liam. I don't love Emma Swan." It takes everything in me to not laugh at him. Me? In love with Emma Swan? Absolutely not. I can admit that I care for the lass, that she has quickly become my friend, and yes I do rather enjoy having sex with her almost every night. But that doesn't mean that I love her. Not in the least.
At least…I don't think I do.
"Bullshit, Killian, you do. I was wondering if it was true, considering how close you've both been acting, how you don't want to rip each other's throats off anymore, and this video confirms my suspicions." Gods this is exactly the reason why Emma and I have to call the sexual tryst between us off. It's starting to gain unwanted attention, and the last thing I want to do is to be on my couch on a Monday afternoon explaining to my older brother that I do not want anything to do with anyone right now, much less with Emma.
I'm not ready for any type of commitment.
"Liam, we are just friends. I care for her, aye, but I do not love her." I say standing up and heading for the kitchen to grab a beer, hoping that he'd let the subject go.
"Why are you hanging out with her out of the times when you absolutely have to, then?" No such luck. He follows me into the kitchen and I take another bottle and open it up for him as a way to bide my time to give him a convincing answer.
"It has something to do with proving myself to you lot, if I remember correctly. Convince us that you still care Killian!" I mock his earlier statement before taking a swig, relishing in the bitter liquid going down my throat and warming up my stomach.
"Oh, sod off, Killian. You know we wouldn't dream of keeping the band up without you." Liam exclaims. I can tell that he's very upset by the concept of me not having deep-seated feelings for Emma Swan. To be honest, even if I did tell him that she and I have been fooling around for the past couple of months would anger him more than thrill him. He's so bloody forthright, he probably hasn't ever been in a predicament like the one Swan and I are in.
"You could've very well fooled me. Even if I could end what we have right now I'm not about to leave Emma out on the cold. She needs me." I tell him and I'm not lying, Emma does need me to stick around so she can land auditions. She texted me earlier that after last night she's been receiving scripts from producing companies. Not the big fish she's wanting to fry, but she's still auditioning for whatever she gets offered at this point, you know, within reason.
"How is this supposed to make me believe that you don't love her?" Liam asks and he's making good use of fucking riling me up a wall.
"Because it's the bloody truth." I tell him defiantly as I rest my back against the wall.
"I don't believe you." Liam counters, his defiant voice matching mine.
"Then believe the fact that I still love Milah." I say and immediately I knew it was the wrong thing to tell him. Liam never liked Milah, he thought she was flighty and immature. He'd make an effort to stomach her for my sake, but I knew that he liked her as much as she liked him, meaning that were it not for me, their tolerance for each other was basically non-existent.
But I loved her. I still do love her. She was everything I ever wanted in a partner. She was strong and ambitious—albeit perhaps too ambitious in hindsight—she had a thrill for life that I have never encountered in another soul. Milah was everything to me, and the day I came back from tour with the locks changed and my stuff in the hall it was the harshest blow to my chest that I've ever received.
"Oh, Christ's sake, Killian! It's been a year!"
"You think I don't bloody know that, Liam? When the love of your life walks out on you, you can't just get over it." I've tried to do so. I've tried to get over Milah. I've gone through depression, fucking any brunette that came through my path, and nearly drank myself into oblivion, yet nothing can rip the love I have for her out of my heart.
"Well, it'll do you some good to start getting over her." He says darkly. He harbors an even greater resentment for Milah now. After she nearly succeeded in derailing my life, I'm sure that Liam wouldn't stomach even a painting of her. "Kil, I just want you to be happy and the way that in so little time Emma has been able to switch from the depressive fuck you were last year, makes me think that you could be happy with her." I'll give him that. Emma has done wonders for my mood—perhaps not for my drinking habits, but the lass can hold her liquor—and she's helped me in feeling happier than I had all last year. However, I know that she is just as emotionally incapacitated as I am, especially now that news broke for her that Neal is married. She was a wreck last night, I wouldn't move in on her in the state she's in even if I did have any romantic inclinations towards her.
She out of all the people I've encountered knows how hard it is to move on from someone when you've signed your heart completely to them. That's probably something that Liam will never understand. He always has one foot planted firmly on the ground, a firm grasp in reality—he's a fighter, not a dreamer—unlike me, who cannot find a way to love without loving completely, without signing over my heart as if I didn't need it for my own wellbeing.
"Easier said than done, mate." I tell him quietly.
"I know. I am allowed to worry about you though."
"I'll be fine, Liam. I'm a survivor, you know that." He smiles at me, understanding that I don't want to talk anymore about the subject. Part of me thinks that I'll never be able to get over the love I had for Milah—opening up my heart to that kind of love again just doesn't seem like it's in the cards for me—and even if that's the case, I know that I'll manage to survive one way or another.
"Aye. Just think about it, though. You're so thick sometimes that it's incredibly possible that when you realize what you've had in front of you for so long is suddenly out of your grasp." He talks about my relationship with Emma as if it were a real, tangible thing, when even we know that it's not. How will I ever be able to lose a relationship that doesn't feel real to the two people who are in it?
"Liam, I will be fine." I repeat firmly.
Everyone knows that you can't lose something you've never had.
-/-
It's been two weeks and we're well into March and Emma and I are still going at it. I'm a complete mess when it comes to her and whatever she wants from me, I do. Liam's words ring in my ear every time I'm with her, and part of me is starting to believe that what he had said was true. Perhaps, I do love her. I certainly do love spending time with her, I love waking up to her glowing self in the mornings, playing video games with her after a particularly long day, while I'm still wired over the gig we had played, and I can't get my head to calm down. Those nights always end with us positively plastered at four in the morning, with her straddling my lap on the couch, and her kisses making me feel drunker than the amount of beers I had ingested in the last two hours.
"Do you think we're getting too serious?" I ask her one night while she plays the latest Grand Theft Auto and bites her own lip as a result of her concentration.
"For us to be serious, Killian, we'd have to be in a relationship." She tells me, her gaze unwavering from the images on the television. I nod, fully knowing that she's right. There isn't anything here between us, just two friends who play video games and hook-up afterwards. That's as far from serious as we can get. She sighs exasperatedly as her character gets gunned down and turns towards me, handing me the controller.
"Right. I was just trying to gauge your opinion, lass." I tell her as I take the controller from her hands and she proceeds to rest her chin on my knees, her eyes looking at me intently.
"Do you want to call it off?" She asks quietly, cocking her head to the side and tracing circles on the fabric over my thighs. I bite my lip and am unable to meet her gaze. I was dead set on calling it off two weeks ago and now that she's offering I'm not sure if I actually want that. Part of me knows that we shouldn't jump into something serious given the fact that we're both emotionally unavailable, however, part of me is terrified that if we call it off, I'll lose the friendship I've developed with her over the past couple of months.
"I just don't want to fuck up what we have, Swan." I concede quietly, finally meeting her gaze. I feel her shift onto her knees, her face now parallel with my chest and I instinctively go tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"What do we have, Killian?" She whispers, her eyes widening apprehensively but whether if she's gaining a trace of hope or giving into fear, I have no idea.
"I've been trying to figure that out for weeks now." I tell her, my hand shifting from her hair to the soft skin of her cheek. I see a blush start to creep from her neck up to her face, where it becomes flushed. Christ, I think, she really is beautiful.
"We are friends, are we not?" she asks me, her hand creeping up to cover mine and moving it off of her face as she goes to sit next to me on the sofa. She doesn't meet my gaze, her eyes focused on the lines on the palm of my hand instead.
"Aye, I just don't know if perhaps we're starting to drift into uncharted territory." I tell her and I notice that her chest starts rising up quickly, her breaths becoming shallower.
"As in being more than friends?" She asks methodically, trying to understand the meaning behind every word.
"Perhaps. It surely does feel like that, doesn't it?" I say and her eyes finally come up and meet mine. I can sense that she's just as terrified as I am, just as incredibly unprepared to be having this conversation as I am.
"Sometimes." She concedes, tugging at her hair nervously.
"Aye." I nod and I am a bit pleased to find out that she's been having the same feelings that I have been having lately towards our situation—and most importantly, me.
"Do you want more?" She asks, seemingly out of nowhere, making me stop dead in my tracks, not knowing how to answer her. It should feel natural that we both want to be together, it should emerge from a place of mutual understanding and want not from this place of unease and confusion.
"I'm not sure it would be fair to ask that of you." I tell her quietly and she nods.
"Because you're still in love with Milah?" she asks. Am I still in love with Milah? Practice and habit tells me that I still am, but is that really what I feel right at this moment? Of that I am not remotely sure. I want to say that I am but when I have Emma in front of me, the thoughts I have about Milah are increasingly minimal with the passing of each day that I am without her.
"I'm just confused, love." I say, knowing full well that it's the truth. If I had both Milah and Emma in front of me, I don't know whom I'd choose. Equal factors both make me want to choose one over the other, and equal factors make me hesitate on a final choice between the two. With Milah, it was us against the world. We were partners as well as lovers, but the deep-seated ache that she left in my heart when she abandoned me makes me hesitant to ever choose her. With Emma, the friendship that we've developed and the way she challenges me, makes me think that I'd choose her in a heartbeat. However, the idea of us jumping the gun and rushing into a relationship is most certainly doomed to backfire and losing her friendship is something I don't want to risk.
"It wouldn't be fair for me to ask more of you either, you know." She says as she starts to run her hand through the back of my hair. I close my eyes momentarily and permit myself to enjoy the caress.
"Because of Neal?" I whisper, opening my eyes and looking at her. She merely nods. We ease into a silence for a moment, her hand still threading through my cropped locks, before she speaks up again.
"Maybe we should take a break from all of this." She says and I would be lying if I said that it didn't feel like a wave of ice cold water didn't just rush all over me.
"Would you still come on tour if we did?" I ask hopefully, not knowing what this break entailed.
"If you still wanted me there, then yes." She answers me, grinning widely.
"I do want you there." I tell her sincerely. I notice her chest swell, as her smile gets wider—if possible.
"Then I'll be there." She nods before kissing me out of habit. She pulls back, her eyes widened at the acknowledgement of her action. I pull her back towards me and kiss her again, my hand going to the small of her back before I ease her body to lie back on the sofa.
"I'll agree to your break if I can still kiss you on weekends." She laughs and nods and I am in awe. She truly is so beautiful, her hair framing her face and neck like a wild halo around her. I absentmindedly lick my lips as I take the sight of her body in—her milky pale skin in contrast with her black dress, the freckles around her arms, the curves of her breasts as her chest heaves up and down, the way her eyes have darkened from vibrant green into a deep hunter green as the night progresseses—her smile falters just a bit and for the first time she seems nervous around me. "Do you think we could—you know—one last time?" I stutter out, feeling just as nervous as she probably does.
"I'd like that." She nods enthusiastically and that's all I need to crash my lips onto hers again, relishing in the sweetness that has become such a familiar taste to me. She moans ardently against my lips as my tongue slips into her mouth and battles hers for dominance. After a few minutes of kissing her, I realize that I don't want our last night to be a rapid, casual fuck on the couch. I stand up—almost laughing at the face she makes at the loss of contact—and pull her up towards me, scooping her up before she can protest, and carrying her into my bedroom. She kisses me all the way there, her legs wrapped around my middle as my hands supported her by grabbing handfuls of her fantastic bum.
Dropping her on my bed she makes quick work of my belt and in mere moments my pants are pooled around my ankles. She kisses my lower abdomen, tracing her lips upwards along my skin as she slowly lifts my shirt until she finally tosses it off the edge of the bed.
"Lay back, love." I tell her and she complies, her hair fanning around her on the pillow, her gaze fixed on mine, and an eager smile on her lips.
"Seeing as this is the last time we'll be doing this, can I tell you a secret?" She asks while I'm tracing kisses along her chest, collarbone, and finally her neck.
"Depends. Is it a dirty secret?" I whisper against her ear, nibbling her earlobe for good measure.
"I'd like to think so." She breathes, her hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets alongside her, her back arching ever so slightly.
"What is it?"
"Ever since the first time, I've loved how bossy you are, how dominant." Even in the darkness I can pinpoint the flush of her skin rising in embarrassment. I grin despite myself, loving that such a headstrong woman like Emma Swan, likes that I dominate her in bed.
"Is that right, lass?" I ask, not really believing my ears. Emma merely moans in consent, her legs writhing in anticipation. "So if I told you to touch yourself, you would?" I feel the goose-bumps arising throughout her body. I honestly don't know how long I'll be able to wait before I can ravish her completely.
"Yes, anything you wanted." She moans and I feel my cock jerk involuntarily against my boxer-briefs. I'm definitely going to miss her.
"I want to see you touch yourself, Swan." I whisper, and sure enough her hand disappears beneath the waistband of her lace underwear. She moans as she works her hand fervently and my lips make contact with the sensitive skin of her breasts and my hands trace along her stomach as I bunch up her dress around her waist. I need more of her, I need to make her mine one last time. I pull her dress down, breaking her breasts free from the confines of her bra and I immediately latch my mouth against her rosebud nipple, making her moan rather loudly.
"Please, Killian." I hear her say above me. "I need more." I heed her request and trace my free hand down her stomach and finding her underwear I tug them off and start fingering her. Her body writhes and squirms underneath me, responding instinctively to my touch. I don't know how long it lasts but there's a point when I can't handle not being sheathed inside of her tight, warm center. Taking my fingers out of her—her dress probably ruined and still half on—I ready myself at her entrance and slowly start filling her up inch by inch until I am fully inside of her. I close my eyes and enjoy the way being inside her feels like—warm, tight, bloody fucking fantastic—before I start to move slowly, pouring everything I feel for her in every thrust I make. I grab her hand, and interlocking our fingers together, I pin it above her head, dropping my head to kissing her full on the lips. I crave every single sound that comes out of her mouth, every single movement that she makes in response to mine, every shallow breath she takes in order to regain her composure. Her eyes are closed tight like always, but tonight I want to look at her, tonight I don't just want to fuck her like the countless times we've had sex before, I want to be one with her.
"Look at me, love." My voice sounds strained, the pleasure hitting me fiercely with every thrust, but nothing feels better than when she complies and her green eyes meet my blue ones. Her mouth parts in a small 'o' and her breaths get even shallower, her gaze locked intensely with mine and I know she's as close as I am. She arches her back and I know that she's almost at the edge. Taking her free hand, she dips it between us and finds her clitoris. I feel her start to add pressure against it and she's so close. Her walls are clenching all around me, coaxing my orgasm with the anticipation of her own. The moment she jumps off the edge, I jump right along with her, her name emanating from my lips with a moan.
A harsh pounding on the door wakes me up the next morning, Emma's body laying half atop of mine. The woman, I'm convinced, can sleep through a tornado. I don't know how I do it, but I manage to slide her body back onto the mattress with the only repercussion being a small scowl forming on her features. I smile at her sleeping self before standing up and pulling on my pajama pants and a t-shirt.
I head across my apartment towards the door and when I open it the breath almost gets knocked out of me.
"Hello, Killian." Milah smiles at me, a small toddler on her hip. "This is Peter, your son."
A/N: Reviews make me the happiest in all the land! PS. I will not be held responsible for cliffhangers that my muse forces me to write.
Don't hate meee!