Chapter Text
The pillow smelled of honeysuckle but he ignored it, ignored his body’s reaction to it and the memories it evoked. If he let the memories come he would drown in them. He focused instead on the smell of the coffee in his cup and the rum he’d laced it with to dull the ache that took longer to fade than it once had. His hope faded, and the ache grew stronger. Soon there would be only the ache.
He scrolled through his Instagram and all the pictures from the party because sharp pain was better than dull despair, each frame with her smile and her hair that he could still feel sliding through his fingers and her damned beautiful face cut him, razor sharp, but he would rather bleed than crumble and so he looked at every one.
His thumb traced the contours of her face as it had the night before when she fell asleep and he forced his exhausted body to stay awake because the only time he could touch her as he truly wished to was when she couldn’t feel it. He clenched his jaw, then and now, to keep the words in, words he’d sworn he would never speak. Not until she spoke them too, and she never would.
She’d never even stayed the night.
The doorbell buzzed and he considered just ignoring it. Company was the last thing he needed. What he needed was time, to brood and to wallow, to let his emotions out in private so he could manage them in public, so he could see her in the elevator and at the bar and everywhere and all the time and not fall apart. Not beg her for things he knew she couldn’t give.
The doorbell buzzed again and his phone dinged.
Let me in, read the text from Liam. I come bearing breakfast.
He pressed the button to let his brother into the building then opened the door at his knock.
“Now’s not a great time,” he said, but Liam was jovial and stubborn.
“I’m only here for three weeks, is it too much to ask for one morning with you during that time?”
“You’re here to see Elsa’s family, not me.”
“I’m here to see all my family.” Liam removed two plates from the cupboard and set them next to the bag he’d brought, and Killian actually smiled. Only his brother ate a breakfast burrito off a plate.
The smile vanished as Liam handed him a burrito, and an opinion. “So last night was fun.”
“Yeah.” Killian set the plate aside and gulped his coffee.
“It was nice to finally meet your friends.”
“You’ve met them before.”
“Not all of them.”
Killian poured himself another cup of coffee, heavier on the rum this time. “Not everyone at the party last night was a friend.”
Liam looked at him intently. “What about Elsa’s cousin? Is she a friend?”
“No.”
“I saw you leave with her.” At Killian’s look of alarm, he hurried to continue. “No one else did,” he said. “But it stuck me as odd; you hardly spoke to each other all evening and then I find you kissing in the hall, the way people don’t kiss unless they’ve already been naked together.”
Killian snorted, going to the window so his brother couldn’t see his face. “That’s a lot to read into a kiss.”
Liam sighed. “If you’d just talk to me brother,” he pleaded, in a voice almost too quiet to hear.
“About what?”
“About whatever has you so on edge.”
Killian kept his back turned. “It’s nothing.”
“It obviously is!” Liam insisted. “Does it have something to do with Emma?”
Killian gave a bitter laugh, before he could stop himself.
“Yes,” said Liam. “It clearly does.”
Killian snapped, spinning around to snarl at his brother. “What do you want to hear Liam?” he demanded. “That we’ve been having sex for a year and she still won’t stay the night? That every Sunday morning I wake up to her scent on a pillow that’s already cold? Do you want to hear how I live in fear of slipping up, of being too affectionate, touching her too gently or kissing her too hard and driving her away? That I am fucking desperately in love with her while she just sees me as a convenient fuck? Is that what you want to hear?”
“Oh, Killian…” Liam trailed off, wishing he had something to offer. Some wisdom or brotherly advice, but in the face of Killian’s raw pain he had nothing.
“I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I do not wish to talk about it,” said Killian stiffly, and turned away again.
Liam unwrapped his burrito and took a bite but he’d lost his appetite, even for the only American food he truly loved. He set the burrito back down on the plate. “Have you— ever considered she might feel the same?” he tried.
“She doesn’t.” Killian’s voice was flat. “I’ve accepted that.”
“Perhaps if you just asked her—”
“No.” Killian raked his fingers through his hair then shoved his hands in his pockets, full of nervous energy and no outlet for it. “I— I need her, Liam, however much of her I can have. If this is all I’ll ever get, I’ll take it, and I won’t rock the boat. I can’t. I can’t risk losing her, and I don’t bloody care how pathetic that makes me.”
“It doesn’t make you pathetic, brother. Just in love.”
—
Liam left his brother’s apartment half an hour later, closing the door behind him just as one down the hall opened. He smiled, a bright, cheerful smile that revealed nothing of what he knew of the blonde who emerged from it.
“Hey,” he said. “If it isn’t my wife’s favourite distant cousin.”
“Oh! Uh, hi Liam,” she replied, eyes flitting to Killian’s door. “Are you coming or going?”
“Going. I’ve just brought Killian some breakfast.”
“Ah. Um. How is he?”
“Fine.”
She smiled, but her face was strained. “So what are you doing today?”
“I’m off to collect Elsa and the kids and then we’re going to do some sightseeing.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Is, um, Killian going too?”
“Sadly no. I invited him but he declined.”
“Oh.” She looked at the door again, with an expression that could only be described as yearning. “Do you know what he’s doing instead? Meeting friends, or—”
“Emma.” Killian might kill him for this, but Killian was also a stubborn arse. And, apparently, a blind one. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
She shook her head and took a step back, fingers clutching tightly to the strap of her bag. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother him.”
“Love.” Liam took her hand, gently prying her fingers off the strap, and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “I can promise you that there is nothing my brother would love more than to be bothered by you.”
Her fingers gripped his painfully. “Really?” she whispered.
“Really. Just ask him. Invite him to go for a walk or something.” Killian could use the fresh air, he thought. His ‘coffee’ had been nearly half rum.
“A walk? Would he want to—”
“Killian would cheerfully walk to the moon if you were with him,” said Liam firmly, hiding his smile as hope sparked in her eyes. “Trust me, Emma. I know my brother.” With a final squeeze of her hand he turned and headed for the lift.
He heard the knock just as the doors were closing.
—
The following Sunday Liam appeared at Killian’s door again, bearing breakfast. His brother opened it wearing only sweatpants, his face flushed and his hair in chaos.
“Now’s not a great time,” he said, glancing nervously at his bedroom door.
Liam was jovial, and stubborn. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said. “This may be the last breakfast we have together for some time.” He set the bag down on the counter and took out three plates.
“Um,” Killian was clearly scrambling for excuses, then his eyes fell on the plates and he frowned. “Why’d you get three?”
“I thought Emma might like one.”
“Ah.” His brother flushed scarlet. “I’m not sure if she—”
“Emma!” called Liam. “Do you want some breakfast?”
The bedroom door opened and Emma emerged, wearing one of Killian’s t-shirts. Face flushed, hair in chaos. She smiled shyly. “I’d love some, actually. I’m starving.”
“I imagine you are, love,” said Liam, raising an eyebrow. Killian wasn’t the only Jones who could innuendo. Emma went pink to the roots of her hair, but she took the plate from him eagerly. “Who puts a burrito on a plate?” she asked.
“Liam does,” said Killian, putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple before moving to the coffeemaker. “Do you want some coffee, love?”
“I’d love some, darling.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Liam.”
“Get me a cup anyway.” Liam grinned as he unwrapped his burrito. He lifted it to his mouth but Emma stopped him with her hand on his. He looked down at her, at the soft, happy look on her face.
“Thank you,” she said.