Prompt - Bae is recued and Killiam leaves Emma because he doesnt wasnt to ruin another family… She goes after him.
"Would it make a difference?" He replies softly, brows knitting together. "If I cared?"
"Do you mind telling me where the hell you think you're going?" Emma stands at the docks, cheeks aflush as if she'd been running, the wind whipping her hair to and fro.
Killian, standing at the helm, darts his gaze off, up to the moon, batting his tongue into his cheek. "The crocodile once told me to go sail off the edge of the earth. Thought I'd give it a go." He flicks his eyes back to her, and she's struck by the sadness behind his smile. "Love a challenge, after all."
Emma charges up the gangplank, fists curled. "You're running," she accuses hotly, her chest aflame.
His tone is cool, maybe even bemused. He raises a challenging eyebrow. "I'm not running, love."
"Like hell you're not."
He sighs, the hint of a smile dropping from his face. "I'm making myself scarce," he says finally. "I don't aim to dismantle Baelfire's family twice in my lifetime."
Emma is silent for a long minute before she takes a tentative step closer to the wheel. "What are you saying?"
"It's what I'm not saying that you should listen to, Swan," Killian replies, sweeping down the stairs of the helm, his coat billowing out after him.
She swallows, not sure why she suddenly finds it hard to breathe. The prospect of losing him—of him leaving her—leaves an insurmountable hole in her chest, hollow and carved out. "I thought…that we…that you…never mind. It doesn't matter. Have a nice trip, buddy."
With that, she turns on her heel just as she feels tears pricking at her eyes. Goddamnit, she thinks, she will not cry in front of him, not about this. Not about him.
His steps are hurried behind her, his hand on her wrist, whipping her around. "Wait," he says softly, eyes wide, "what did you think?"
She tries to wiggle out of his grip, but he only pulls her closer, his breath hot on her face as he scans her eyes searchingly. He repeats himself, more pressingly now. "What did you think?"
"What do you care?" She snaps, her eyes narrowed, if only to keep her vision straight.
"Would it make a difference?" He replies softly, brows knitting together. "If I cared?"
Emma's mouth falls open slightly, the breath catching in her throat. "It might," she chokes out.
He takes an imperceptible step back, but it's enough for her to notice. She hates the way it causes as pang in her heart. "What about Baelfire? Now that he's alive, reunited with his family, I assumed—"
"Assumed what? That you could sail off of to the Caribbean drunk off your yo-ho ass, or whatever it is pirates do? That no one would care if you slipped off in the middle of the night?" Emma spits, suddenly filled with rage. Hook's mouth opens to question her, halfway split between confusion and amusement, but she barrels on, her voice softening, "You once told me that we made quite a team. I thought we were in this together."
His eyes are wide, but lingering on her. "But, Baelfire—"
Emma takes a few steps back, running her hands through her hair. "I don't know, I don't know, okay? He's back and I'm so happy and I know I should want to be with him again. I know I should. I love him, after all, right?"
Killian is silent for a long while. "Are you asking me, or telling me, darling?"
"Asking. No, telling. No. I mean—I don't know. That's what I'm saying. But what I do know is…I woke up tonight and I just knew you were leaving. Maybe it's this magic ju-ju I have or something, but I knew it. And I hated it. And…that counts for something, right?"
He eyes her. "I'd say that counts for a fair more than 'something', my love."
"I want you to stay."
A grin is budding against his lips, but he holds it back, his eyes sparked as he steps closer. "Is that so?" She nods, finding herself dumbstruck by his increasing proximity. "I once told a man that if he was unwilling to fight for what he wanted, he deserved what he got. That's why I was leaving tonight—after all I've done, I deserve my fate."
"You deserve—"
"Hush, darling, let me finish," he interrupts, shooting her an annoyed, but fond, glance. "But you, Emma—you deserve to be fought for. You deserve to be put first, no matter the consequences."
His breath is on her face now, so close she can make out the flecks of green in his eyes. She's also pretty sure her chest has stopped beating. He smiles down at her, soft and sad. "You see my dilemma?"
She doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything at all.
"If you want me to stay, I'll stay. If you want me to fight, I'll fight. Anything you want of me, Emma, is yours," he says slowly, reaching his hand up to cup her face.
Her eyes flutter closed at his touch, exhaling shakily. She wills them back open. "Kiss me, that's what I want," she whispers.
She's expecting a smirk, but all he gives her is apprehension. "Are you sure? Darling, if I kiss you now, I will never be sated. I can't go back. I won't be able to later bow out, if that's to be what you wish."
"Killian, that's why I want you to kiss me," Emma replies breathily. His eyes widen at the sound of his name, and he knows in that moment he's undone. She opens her mouth with another word, but before she can get it out, he sweeps his lips downward, capturing the word on her tongue.
Semantics be damned, Emma thinks, her knees bucking. The kiss is electric, unlike anything she's ever known, and he pulls her closer, deeper, his eyes burning.
They'll figure everything else out in the morning. For now, his lips are on hers, her hands are in his hair, the moon is gleaming on their skin; she is his, and he is hers.