AN: There are a few things that I need to tell you before you read this chapter. As I think I've said before, I'm only really concerned with what happens affecting Emma and Killian, and there's plot-bits that I'm going to skim over or just not write about because if I did, I'd never get this finished, and it was only supposed to be a distraction before season 3 starts.
So, to bring you up to speed with what happens in this chapter: Tinkerbelle could open a portal for them, but her magic can only open portals between worlds that have magic, so she couldn't send them straight to Storybrooke. The world they came into in the last chapter was the Enchanted Forest. Tinkerbelle knew of a witch who had a magic crystal that could send them where they needed to go, but she requires a blood payment, and could tell your linage from the taste. She'd had bad dealings with Rumpelstiltskin in the past (because who hasn't?) so neither Rumpelstiltskin nor Neal could go searching for her. (I know it might be weak, but I really just needed a reason for why Emma and Killian are together for this next chapter, and since I'm only writing it for those two I figured I'd not focus too much on a plot that I'm not particularly caring about).
Anyway, I hope you like this one. I got a pretty awesome reaction for the last chapter, including some fic recs from some of my favourite fic authors on Tumblr, so yay for me.
Chapter Six
Emma was pretty sure she'd lost complete feeling in her toes, but she continued at the steady pace that she'd set herself. Which wasn't very fast, she admitted; every step now sunk her knee deep into the snow, and having to constantly pull her legs free was taking not only a lot of time, but also a lot of her energy. She couldn't remember ever feeling so tired before, but she couldn't stop. One foot in front of the other, and repeat.
She didn't know how much further they had to walk to get back to the ship, but she knew that they had to get there before nightfall. The Enchanted Forest didn't have quite the same horrors as Neverland, and they could avoid the ogres as long as they kept quiet enough, but she'd never hear the end of it if they didn't make it back tonight. Her parents would be worried sick. And Henry, and Neal. Neither of them had given her any space for the last two weeks, apparently convinced that she'd break if she was left alone for more than two minutes at a time.
She tightened her grip on her coat, trying to pull it closer against the wind, and she knew at least that her fingers weren't numb - they stung like hell, stiff and aching. She pushed her thoughts of Neal aside, tired of dwelling on what was right or wrong. It just was, and that was it. She should be grateful that he was worried about her.
The next thing that her mind turned to was Captain Hook, and unfortunately he was a little harder to ignore. Killian walked a few paces ahead of her, struggling through the snow with as much difficulty as she was, his longer legs giving him no advantage. Emma kept her head down, focusing on each step she took and trying to keep the falling snow out of her eyes, but she made sure to keep him in her vision - if they lost sight of each other, there'd be no hope - and pretended not to notice when he turned to look back at her every few minutes.
He's just making sure that you don't fall behind so you make it back to the ship together, one part of her mind said.
He's making sure that you don't fall behind because he cares about you, said the other.
She didn't know which one she wanted to listen to, so she ignored both of them.
Emma cursed Mary Margaret's insistence that she and David partner together since they made such a great team. Just a few weeks ago Killian would have jumped at the chance to point out how great a team himself and Emma made, and for some reason his lack of comment had bothered her more than the words themselves would have done. Mulan had already left with Regina some time earlier, so the only other pair was herself and Killian. She'd almost said that she wouldn't go, ready to use her near-drowning two weeks ago as an excuse, but she knew it wouldn't have worked - she'd done her share of labor on the ship in the last few days. They would have known she was making excuses, and she didn't want to give Neal any reason to think something might be wrong. Besides, she knew how important it was to find the crystal that would finally send them home, and she knew that she had to do her part.
It felt so bitter that they were coming back empty-handed.
One of the other groups might have found the witch. She'd been seen in a few places in the last few days, all nearby the fishing village where they'd docked, and she could have been at any one of them today.
She hoped with all her heart that one of the others had the crystal. She didn't have it in her to do this again tomorrow.
It had stopped snowing, so Emma raised her head slightly to watch Killian's back as he trudged along in front of her. They had barely spoken to each other all day, except out of necessity, and even then their replies to each other had been short. She'd managed to avoid speaking directly to him for the last few weeks, and hadn't been alone with him since they'd been pulled from the water.
Something had changed between them that day, but she had no clue what it was, or what it meant. She didn't feel so wretched anymore when she thought of him, but instead she felt... empty. She was so ashamed of herself for being unable to thank him, feeling unable to face him. She kept catching him looking at her, his expression guarded, and she'd lost count of the times that he'd caught her staring at him.
She had no idea what was going on, between them or in her head, but she couldn't erase the look of terror in his eyes from her mind, or the way he'd held onto her so tightly, as though his arms alone could ward off death.
And they almost had, hadn't they? He'd saved her life.
Suddenly everything was even colder, which seconds ago she would have said was impossible. Pushing her hands out in front of her, she felt a little cold resistance and realized she'd tripped into the snow. She tried feebly to push herself up but succeeded only in digging her arms deeper into the snow.
She knew she'd have to use more energy, to use more of her body to at least sit up, but she was just so goddamned tired. Pulling her arms back to her chest, she managed to roll onto her side, getting her face away from the direct iciness. Although, the chill air wasn't much better.
Lifting her head slightly, she looked around for Killian. Thankfully, his dark leather stood out against their white surroundings, but he was still walking forward, away from her. 'Hook!' she yelled, or tried to. The combination of barely speaking all day and the ridiculously cold air had left her voice hoarse, and she knew that he wouldn't be able to hear her above the wind, not from that far away. She tried again, desperate to not be left alone in a world she barely knew.
He hadn't turned to check on her, and she knew it was possible that he wouldn't until she was well out of sight. Maybe she had been exaggerating to herself how often he was checking on her.
She was sick of feeling hopeless, and she certainly wasn't going to let herself die of hypothermia from lying in the snow. Lying on her back, she took a few deep breaths, gathering her strength before she propelled herself upwards, using all of her remaining energy to get upright.
She almost made it but she'd overestimated the density of the snow and almost fell forward onto her face again. Pulling herself backwards, she over corrected herself and felt her body falling back toward the snow.
Instead of the fluffy cold, she felt arms catch her under her armpits and she landed against a hard chest. 'Emma,' Killian began, but she pulled away quickly.
Holding onto his arm to straighten herself, Emma ignored him and gave herself a few seconds rest on her feet before she dared a step forward. She failed miserably, and would have fallen to her knees had Killian not grabbed her around the waist. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look at him, hating that he was yet again seeing her weak.
'Stop saving me,' Emma muttered, wanting to sound angry, but what came out sounded flat and empty.
'You need to stop,' he said softly, his voice right beside her ear.
'I'm fine,' she said, pulling away from him again. She didn't want him to be holding her up, didn't want him to be so close to her. Leaning away from him, she waited until she stopped swaying before she took a step forward. When she didn't fall, she took a deep breath before lifting her other leg.
And got a face full of snow.
'Bloody hell, Swan,' she heard, his voice slightly muffled. Before she could move she felt hands grabbing her arms and she was pulled rather roughly out of the snow. Killian shifted his grip on her and lifted her into his arms.
'What do you think you're doing?' she grumbled, trying to pull away.
He tightened his grip on her. 'I saw a cabin a little way back that looked to be abandoned. If I'd known the state you were in, I would have stopped there before.'
'You don't need to carry me,' she said, trying not to let her embarrassment show.
She could feel his chest move as he chuckled. 'Actually, love, I think I do.' He turned and started walking back the way they'd come. 'Stop talking and just let me help you.'
Reluctantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, at first trying to angle her body away from his, but when he almost dropped her a few times she gave in and relaxed into him. 'How much further?' she mumbled, resting her head against his shoulder.
'Not too far,' he said softly, something odd in his voice. She didn't dwell on it. Her exhaustion was catching up with her and she found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. It was the most they'd spoken to each other in weeks, and she thought maybe that it felt good.
Their going was slower with Killian carrying her, and "not far" seemed a lot further than she could have managed. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was in the snow again. 'What...?'
'Sorry.' He leaned her back against something hard. A wall? 'There's a bolt on the door, I need to break it down.'
Letting her head fall back against the wood, she opened her eyes to see him walking away from her. She realized she was shivering and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, watching him. The door was apparently only a few steps from where he set her. He pushed his shoulder against it, testing it, before taking a step back and kicking it, hard. She heard wood splintering and he stumbled forward into the cabin.
A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her upward, lifting her arm around his neck as his other arm went around her waist. 'Come on, darling, almost there.'
She didn't remember making it inside, but she was being laid down on a surface that wasn't snow. 'Thank you,' she sighed, drifting off again.
Setting Emma down on the ragged carpet that covered the cold stone of the floor, Killian went back to the door to see how much damage he had caused by breaking it down. It was ill made, he noticed with a frown, and wouldn't stay closed now that the bolt was broken. He certainly couldn't leave it open - what was the use of getting out of the weather if you let the weather in with you? Looking around, he caught sight of a chest hopefully wide enough to block the door.
Hoping for blankets, he opened the chest, but wasn't surprised to find it empty. It took him a few minutes to push it across the room, but he finally managed to get the door firmly closed. Closing his eyes, he slumped against the chest, allowing himself a moment before he checked on Emma. He was exhausted and even though Emma was particularly fit, carrying her that distance to the cabin had really taken it out of him.
Using the chest to pull himself up, he walked the few metres to where Emma lay asleep on the ground, crumpled into a ball. Night had fallen, and he could barely make her out in the pale moonlight that came from the windows. She was shivering so violently that it would be better described as shaking. Dropping to his knees, he pressed his fingers gently to her forehead; she felt like ice, even to his cold hands. She'd started shivering not long after he'd picked her up, and he knew that the only reason that his body wasn't reacting the same way just yet was that his efforts had kept his blood pumping enough to regulate his temperature. They were both cold before they'd stopped, true, but their bodies wouldn't really let them feel it until they were still.
Shedding his coat, Killian laid it gently over Emma, tucking it tightly around her before lying down beside her and wrapping his arm over her. He knew that it might not be long until his body starting reacting the same way that hers was to the cold, but he had to do his best to help her before he worried too much about himself.
Gods, he wished for a fire, but he knew that trying to find wood dry enough to light would be nigh on impossible in this weather. Lifting his head slightly, he pushed Emma's hair away from her face, frowning at the troubled look on her sleeping face. She shook incessantly beside him, and as his hand brushed her cheek he knew that she wasn't warming up.
He had to get her out of her wet clothes. He knew that he'd be crossing a line. That line had always been very fine between them but it had changed recently, become a tall wall of stone that he knew he couldn't break down. The way that she'd avoided him, had angled her body away from his when he first held her, had told him well enough just how much she hated being in his arms, but although he'd felt guilty - and disgusting - for it, he hadn't allowed himself to care. He'd passed the point where he could deny what he felt for Emma Swan, and even if it didn't mean anything to her, he would no longer lie to himself.
He was going to be the hero for once, damn it, whether she wanted him to or not.
Hardening his resolve, Killian sat back up and pulled his coat off of Emma, putting it aside just for the moment. He started with her boots, unlacing one and then the other and putting them by the door, before quickly ridding her of socks, coat, jeans and three shirts of varying thickness. Everything was wet. He hesitated for as long as he could before removing her bra and underwear, knowing that leaving the wet garments on her would defeat the purpose but reluctant to make her too vulnerable. He almost wished that he could make the action sexual - not for his benefit, not like that, but to calm the increasing worry that was building inside of him. Covering her quickly with his coat, which was slightly dryer - he lay hers on top of that, followed by her jeans and shirts, trying to make as thick a layer as he could. The leather of his coat would stop the wetness from seeping through.
She was still shivering just as strongly, so he let go of his worries of consequences and quickly shed his own clothes. His were less wet than hers since he hadn't fallen into the snow like she had, and if he'd worn underwear then he would have left his on, but leaving anything else on would have defied his purpose. He still wanted to pause, to rethink this for her sake, but the sight of her shaking like that forced him to discard his doubts.
Feeling his own tremors starting to rack his body, he abandoned the cold and slipped underneath his coat, being careful to make sure that it still covered her as best as it could. Her skin was freezing against his but he pressed himself against her as fully as he could, lifting her head to rest on his left arm and wrapping his right around her waist. He could feel her breath on his chest and didn't let himself focus on anything else.
He alternated between trying to hold her as tightly as humanly possible and rubbing his hand across her skin, hoping that the friction would encourage her skin to warm. His shivers increased before they got better, the coldness of her skin leaching into his before they began to warm each other, but before too long he had control of himself again and he knew that his idea would work - at least for tonight. His body felt so exhausted, but he found himself wide awake. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep until he knew that Emma was going to be all right.
He was feeling a bit more of a normal temperature now, the only coldness coming from Emma's body. She still shivered, her breathing uneven, but she no longer felt like ice. Holding her close, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. This is what he'd wanted to do after he'd pulled her out of the water. Not only did he want to help her, to save her, but he wanted to be there for her afterward, to hold her while she adjusted and to comfort her if she needed it. Not that Emma Swan would want to admit to needing comfort, he thought wryly, but he wanted to be there for her whether she did or not. It had been Baelfire who had won that right.
But she was in his arms right now.
Killian's hand had moved to her back and he realized that instead of rubbing her body firmly for warmth, his fingers were trailing lightly over her skin. He let them go, wandering softly up and down her back, pausing at her lower back before he began to trace circles on her waist. Holding her head to his chest with his forearm, he pressed his face against her hair, breathing in deeply to take in the smell of her.
He utterly hated how he felt right now. Somehow he managed to feel both full and empty at the same time, like he was hollow, a hole in his chest, but that it was overflowing with the warmth that he felt for this woman. He hadn't felt like this in a very, very long time, and he knew that it was making him desperate. He knew he should stop the hand that trailed patterns over her skin, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't get enough of her, and he'd take what he could for the short time that she'd be in his arms. He tried to make himself feel guilty - he knew that it was probably very wrong for him to be touching her like this while she was unaware - but nothing could have torn him away from her in that moment. Surely things couldn't get worse than they were anyway.
He felt her shiver against him as he ran his fingers down her spine, and it was only then that he realized that aside from that reaction, she must have stopped trembling a little while ago. How long had he been lost in his thoughts? He pulled back enough to see her face.
The moon had risen further, and he could see about as well as if someone had a small lantern alight on the other side of the room. Emma's eyes were open and looking back up at him solemnly. He froze his movements but left his hand where it rested upon her hip, attempting to prepare himself for her outburst. He tried to summon up some sort of witty - or smart-ass, as she would put it - remark to respond with once she started, but he couldn't seem to think of anything at all with those eyes on him.
Both of her hands were caught between them, and she loosened her fists and spread her palms across his chest, tangling her fingers slightly in the dark hair. His breath caught in his throat at her touch, knowing that she was probably about to push him away and making himself drink in the way it felt to have her nakedness pressed up against his for one last time.
She leaned forward, slowly and deliberately, and pressed her lips gently against his.
It took every ounce of strength he had not to devour her immediately, but he let his surprise restrain him as she kissed him, their lips meeting only slightly before she pulled back to look at him. A thousand thoughts ran through his head but he let them all fly by, not able to grasp onto any one in particular as he stared at her in confusion, that overflowing hole in his chest stretching.
She looked up at him, an expression on her face that he couldn't place. Giving him the smallest of smiles, she reached one hand up and placed it lightly against his cheek. Without thinking, he pressed his cheek into her palm, feeling the urge to close his eyes but unable to take them off of her. 'I can't stop thinking about you,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper, before leaning forward once more.
This time he didn't hold back, couldn't have if he'd wanted to, and when her lips touched his he was ready, closing his eyes and kissing her back softly. In just a moment she would realize what she was doing and fight away from him, but he'd take this one moment if it's all that he'd get. Gods, he was a lovesick fool. He didn't want to push too far, not knowing what it would take to scare her off, but he couldn't help the way that his fingers dug into her skin at her hip, desperately trying to restrain himself enough that she wouldn't stop.
Then her lips parted slightly and he felt her breath as she bit down gently on his lower lip, requesting entrance, and he knew he was done for.
Wrapping his arms around her fully, he kissed her with all of the hunger inside of him, with all of the need that he'd denied himself for far too long. Running his hand up her back, he twined his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss.
He let her push him gently onto his back and when she broke the kiss he briefly mourned at the loss, before he felt her lips on his neck. His body began to respond immediately as she ran her tongue across his neck and shoulders. He let out a groan when she bit at the skin on his shoulder, sucking on it and then running her tongue across it as though to sooth it. There'd be a mark there in the morning - one he'd be proud to wear.
He needed to show her, he realized. They could have all the time in the world for words later, but right now, when she was unbelievably in his arms, he had to prove to her just how much he loved her. She'd straddled him and although her legs around his waist and their bodies pressed together felt incredible, he wrapped an arm around her back and used her position to flip them so that he was on top of her. Surprise flickered across her face but he kissed it away, teasing them both by pressing his hardness against her stomach before lifting his body away from her. Resting on his forearms, he kissed his way slowly down her neck, paying special attention to the spot where her neck and shoulder met, which always made her squirm delightfully. One of her hands grasped his shoulder and the other gripped at the back of his head, trying to guide him back up to her lips, but he had other plans.
Cupping her breast in his right hand, he massaged it gently before rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp and then a quiet moan from her. Smiling against her skin, he moved his head lower to take the nipple between his teeth, his tongue flicking lightly at the tip. Her hands tightened, her fingers digging into his scalp.
He gave equal attention to each breast before beginning his way down her stomach, alternately licking and sucking at her skin, worshiping her body as best as he could. By the time he gave a steady lick up her thigh, she was squirming beneath him. 'Please,' she sighed.
He looked up to see her staring back at him, eyes hooded. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and in the darkness her cheeks looked flushed. She trembled as he parted her folds with his fingers, and he held her gaze as he lowered his head and pressed his tongue firmly against her sex, licking his way slowly but deliberately up towards her sensitive nub.
Her head fell back against the ground with a moan, but he kept his eyes on her for a few more seconds before turning his full attention to his task. He attacked her gently with his lips, teeth, tongue, constantly changing his method to keep her on edge. When she started trembling - definitely not from the cold this time - and he knew she was close, he sucked hard on her bundle of nerves and slid two fingers inside of her, curling them to press against the spot that he knew would bring her undone.
Her hips bucked forward and her hands clung again to the back of his head, holding him to her. 'Killian!' she cried out as her orgasm hit her, and he groaned against her skin. He'd imagined the sound of her crying his name far too often recently, fervently holding onto the memory as if to keep it fading by sheer strength of will. His memory had nothing on the real thing, and suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. Crawling up her still-trembling body, he pressed himself fully against her, needing to feel her close. Wrapping his hand around the base of her neck, he kissed her fiercely, all ideas of gentleness completely forgotten.
She kissed him back just as desperately, grinding her hips up against his. Lining himself up, he continued the kiss as he carefully pushed into her, taking her fully in one slow thrust, the two of them groaning together at the feel of their bodies joining. He didn't break their kiss but changed his pace, slowing so that he was kissing her like they had all the time in the world, like they were doing it for the joy of the simple action. He didn't move his body, he simply kissed her with all the affection in his heart.
When he couldn't ignore the ache in his lungs anymore, he finally broke his lips away, resting his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. 'Emma,' he whispered, gently cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb against her skin.
Squirming against his body, Emma tried to pull her hips away enough to create some friction, but he held her trapped beneath him. 'Killian,' she mumbled, pressing up against him.
'Wait,' he whispered, squeezing his eyes tighter.
She froze, her hands on his chest between them. 'What?'
Brushing his lips against her cheek, he breathed in deeply, trying to breathe her in. That hollowness threatened to overwhelm him, conflicting with the way his body hummed with the knowledge that he was inside of her. 'The sooner I start, the sooner it'll be over,' he murmured reluctantly.
She was still for a few seconds longer before she pushed him away enough that he could see her face. The sadness in her eyes threatened to destroy him. 'Don't think,' she whispered, kissing him gently before rolling her hips against his.
Suppressing a moan, he tried to stop himself from responding. 'Emma,' he began.
'Please,' she begged, and it was the need in her voice that made him start to move, unable to leave her wanting. She sighed against his lips as he began to thrust slowly into her, torn between wanting to take his time with her to make it last as long as possible and wanting to take all of her now. She felt so good, her sex hot and wet and tight around his. Their clothes had been pushed aside and he drank in the sight of her body beneath his, the way her chest heaved with every breath, enjoying the sight of her breasts rising and falling with it. He couldn't keep his hand off her, running up and down her leg, side, breasts, while his hook curved around her other leg, keeping it firmly around his waist. He loved the way her hips always rose to meet his, like she wouldn't dare be called a half-hearted participant. She gave back everything that was given her, and more.
The sound of her moaning his name made his whole body tighten, and he knew that he didn't have much longer left in him, but there was no way that he was going to let himself go over the edge before she was ready. Readjusting the way his hook held her leg, he lifted it up to rest on his shoulder, leaning back slightly to create a better angle, and pressed his thumb against her clit. Her hips bucked up against his immediately and he rubbed at her nub swiftly. 'Oh, god, yes,' she moaned, throwing her head back. The sight of her made him curse, desperate to hold on until she was there with him but the way she looked, so wanton with pleasure, was making it difficult.
Finally he felt her walls start to flutter around him and he let himself chase his own release, thrusting into her deeply. Emma looked up at him, heat in her eyes, and reached up to grab his shoulders, pulling him down to lie directly on top of her again, wrapping her leg around his hips. Pulling his head down, she kissed him hungrily. He kissed her back with equal fervor, not slowing his movements, desperate to get as much of her as he could while he had the chance.
The feel of her coming apart beneath him sent him over the edge, and he pressed as deeply into her as he could go, spilling inside her as their kiss broke, his own moans equal only to her cries as they both gasped for breath. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against her collarbone.
After a few minutes he reluctantly rolled off of her onto his back, sitting up and looking around for his coat. Although he felt quite warm now, he knew it wouldn't be long before the freezing reality settled around them again. Finding it beside Emma on her other side, he reached over her to pick it up and shook it out over himself, leaning back and raising the edge of it questioningly.
He'd expected her to hesitate, to look at him strangely or to even flat out refuse, but she shifted over to him without pause and gently pressed him back down, slipping underneath the coat and fitting herself snugly next to him. Her head came to a rest on his shoulder and her arm wrapped around his chest, laying against his side near his armpit, her leg hooked over his so that she was fully pressed against him.
It was only a few minutes before her breathing evened out and Killian knew that she was asleep. He felt sleep tugging at him, but didn't let himself give in to its pull just yet, determined to have a few more minutes of consciousness. Using his hook to gently push the strands of hair that covered her face behind her ear, he turned his head to the side to try and get a better view of her face. She looked so peaceful, sated. It had been so long since he'd seen her anything other than angry, hurt, tired. And most of that had been directed at him.
The hollowness seemed to have dwindled for now, but the overflowing warmth that made his throat feel tight was amplified. It was so hard not to hold her tighter, tighter, but he made himself be content that she was in his arms at all. His right arm, which was wrapped around her waist, moved as he ran his hand up and down her body, unable to keep his touch still on her.
Her body pressed against his at his touch, and he smiled that he could affect her so while she was asleep. Pressing his lips against her hair, he closed his eyes. He had no idea what this was. It could be a last time together, a goodbye before she went on with her life. A moment of weakness.
Or it could be a reconciliation, an abandonment of their attempts to stay away from each other, if she felt anything similar to what he did. The way that she'd clung to him as they lost themselves in each other made him hopeful but he'd lived too long, and had felt too heartsick because of this woman to feel too confident.
He'd never felt anything more incredible than the way she felt against him right now, and he made himself push away his dark thoughts and soak in every single touch, every smell, the sight of her. Even if they had forever together, he wanted to remember this moment, and if not... Well, he'd at least have this feeling to hang on to, this moment of completeness.
'If only I could show you what you do to me,' he whispered to her.
She didn't respond, like he knew she wouldn't, and he kissed the top of her head again before relaxing back, his arm tucked closely around her waist, fingers moving slightly against her stomach. It was a while before he drifted off after her.
AN: I think there might be another three chapters planned in this? I have two more that I'd planned originally, but I hadn't really thought about exactly how I wanted to end it, and today I had some ideas for something extra. So probably three. We'll see.
PS: I also wanted to share my playlist with you for this fic. There are others as well as these songs, but these are the main ones that I think relate to this:
Damien Rice - Cheers Darlin', Delicate, Accidental Babies, 9 Crimes
The Spill Canvas - All Over You, To Live Without It, Himerus and Eros
Foo Fighters - Best Of You
James Blunt - I Really Want You
Nine Inch Nails - Something I Can Never Have
Matchbox Twenty - Leave, Like Sugar, Push, I Can't Let You Go
Florence and the Machine - Never Let Me Go, Cosmic Love
Newton Faulkner: If This Is It
That last one very heavily influenced this chapter, especially how Killian feels at the end.
I think this might have been a good chapter. I like it, anyway. Some of it kind of wrote itself, but other bits I dithered over for a ridiculous amount of time. Reviews are always helpful!
