Soul Mates

Emma stroked his hair, letting her fingers play over the scar on his cheek, the one he got when he was nine years old and climbed up on a tree on a dare given by his brother. He'd slipped when he climbed down again, his cheek catching on a twig. She wondered if he'd told anyone the real story, or if he'd made up something for his fans. Emma knew how much he missed his brother, and a part of her hoped that the last years had soothed the grief a little bit.

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder as she stared out into the night. Closing her eyes, she listened to the soft sound of the wind rustling in the trees. She missed going up here. She didn't have much time in the last ten years to truly relax. But this was her safe haven. Always had been. And up until now she'd only shared it with one other person. The one whose head was lying in her lap right now.

They'd both still struggled with their respective grief all those years ago; the loss still so fresh. They had both lost people they loved in that year. She her parents, and he his brother. She never told him that this week with him had helped heal the wound the death of her parents left in her heart, that she regretted later that she let him slip through her fingers.

She inherited this house when her parents died, but back then she couldn't see the beauty of the surroundings, didn't care that she never had to work a day in her life since her parents left her more money than she could ever spend. Being an actress had been her passion, and she still wished her parents could have been there to witness her success.

But maybe it was better they didn't witness the scandal that ensued two years ago. Emma being investigated by the IRS. She didn't embezzle the money. Neal did. At that time she felt herself in love with him, turned out he never loved her but only her money and the fame that came with her profession.

Emma had believed that she'd never trust another man ever again, but when she opened her eyes and looked down at Killian's sleeping face, the wound Neal had left didn't bite that much anymore, and she realized that what she'd felt for Neal hadn't been true love, because he'd never elicited the kind of feelings inside of her Killian did.

Closing her eyes again, Emma leaned back, relishing in the feeling of having him near her. A feeling of finally being whole again.

-/-

When Killian woke up it was still dark around them, and he shifted carefully to face her. She was fast asleep, her neck looking uncomfortably cramped, and he stood up silently and leaned down, scooping her into his arms. She mumbled something unintelligible, not waking up truly, her head lolling against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He knew from his last visit where the bedroom was, so he tightened his grip around her waist and thighs and carried her to her bed, laying her down gently, removing her boots and pulling the comforter over her body.

He couldn't sleep any longer himself, so he walked through the house, knowing Emma wouldn't mind, letting the memories sweep over him with every piece he recognized, and then his eyes fell on the piano, tears welling up in his eyes as he let his fingers ghost over its shimmering black surface.

He missed the music. He missed it so much.

For a second he contemplated to sit down and play, his fingers shaking with the need to hit the keys, but his heart wasn't ready yet. He wasn't ready to play music without being able to sing along. His voice was broken, and he could still not listen to it. He could still sing, but not reach much depth or hit the really low and high tones that had made his voice so unique. Maybe one day he'd be able to sing again without the loss slamming into his chest and making it hard to breathe. But today was not that day.

Balling his hand into a fist, he turned around and walked out onto the porch. He would watch the sun rise, and let nature soothe his battered artist's soul.

-/-

She found him standing outside, bare-chested and bare-footed, leaning against the wooden railing of the porch, staring into the water of the pool.

He greeted her with a soft smile, and she leaned beside him, watching nature come alive around them. He didn't say anything as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her in front of him, caging her in between his arms.

She could feel the heat of his body seeping through the thin shirt she'd put on after she awoke a few minutes earlier. His scent was enveloping her, and she felt his scruff brush over her temple. She'd never felt safer.

"Do you believe in rebirth?" he suddenly asked out of the blue, his voice low and harsh, his vocal chords sounding rusty with disuse.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because this ..." he trailed off, his hands starting to move, covering her hands, linking his fingers with hers before speaking again, "This connection we have. I never felt anything like it again. It's … this might sound silly, but … it's as if I knew you right from the start. As if we've met before. People call it soul mates, and maybe they are right. Maybe we did meet before, and our souls recognized each other. Maybe that's the reason I feel so safe with you. So complete."

"It's the same for me," Emma whispered, pulling her hands out of his to turn around.

The moment she met his gaze she knew he would kiss her, and when his lips met hers a strange sense of coming home swept through her, making her lean further into him. The kiss was short, but thorough, leaving her slightly breathless and unsteady on her feet.

"Come."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the porch towards the pool, and she thanked her own foresight for telling her housekeeper to make the pool ready for her, when he stopped at the edge and reached for his pants, shedding them and his boxer briefs without a moment of hesitation, shooting her a lopsided smirk before he jumped into the water.

She actually laughed when she donned her own clothes and joined him in the water, giggling like a schoolgirl when he pulled her into his arms and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. The hair was plastered to his head, droplets of water were glistening in his eyelashes and running down his cheeks. It was in that moment - when his eyes seemed even bluer than usual - that she realized that she loved him. That she had loved him all these years, part of her always hoping she would see him again one day, but too afraid that their connection was only a figment of her imagination to ever seek him out.

But fate had brought them back together.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist, feeling a surge of lust coursing through her as his cock brushed against her thigh with the movement. The smile dropped off his face, his gaze lost its teasing glint, taking on an intensity that made her nipples harden with need.

And when he kissed her this time, she knew the kiss would be anything but short.