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She went out on a girl’s night one particular evening, needing a drink to feel the emptiness in her heart. She used Mary Margaret and Ruby as an excuse, knowing Neal would never deny her a night out with her friends.
Ruby, as always, was scoping out the bar for men. She never found her soul mate, and she said always she was just going to “have fun” until she met him – if she ever met him.
Ruby leaned forward and pointed to the back corner of the bar, purring in interest and making Emma roll her eyes. Emma took another sip of her drink before following her friend’s gaze to the man in the corner, talking to a petite blonde and laughing.
Emma stilled when she realized who was standing there, and the jealousy that ripped through her body was physically hurting her. She knew it was irrational – she was married, and they had no chance of being together – but she couldn’t help looking at the woman and wishing it was her he was talking to.
Emma drank the rest of her martini and excused herself to the bathroom, asking Ruby and Mary Margaret to order another one for her while she was gone. She already had two, and the alcohol was working wonders, but now that she saw Killian, it felt like she hadn’t even had a drop.
Her friends agreed as she left, and she had every intention of going to the bathroom until she could calm herself down. But, instead of going there, she found her way to Killian’s side and grabbed his hand.
Just as he was about to object to someone grabbing him, she forced him into the hallway at the back corner, looking around to make sure no one could see them.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, staring into his eyes.
(His beautiful, blue eyes.)
“Just out for a pint with some coworkers, but the night has suddenly become much more interesting.” He took a small step forward, and Emma could now smell him, practically taste his scent. “Tell me, Emma, why do you think we keep running into each other?”
“Who was that blonde you were with?” Her voice was breathless and, shaking her head out of her daze, she took a step back.
“Blonde, such a lovely hair color, don’t you think?” he asked, reaching his hand forward and running his fingers through her hair. “That was the Lady Tink. The more pressing question, though, is why do you care who I talk to?”
“I don’t!” Emma defended, a little too quickly. “I mean, I…”
Killian leaned in, and Emma thought he was going to kiss her. But, he went for her ear, instead. “Are you jealous, Mrs. Cassidy?”
“No!”
“Ah, that’s the difference between you and me.” Killian leaned back. “I was quite jealous when I saw you talking to your husband, I must say. Do you know the pain of seeing your soul mate, knowing you can never be with them because they hastily married someone before they met their true love?”
“It wasn’t a hasty decision!” She said, and when she noticed her voice wasn’t at all convincing, she added, “I love him.”
(She knew that she hadn’t sounded any more convincing the second time.)
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t make me feel any better.” He took a step away from her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to the woman I’ve met for the night.”
Emma stomped her foot. “Why are you being so infuriating?” She asked, throwing her arms across her chest.
“You don’t get to do that, Emma. You don’t get to have it both ways.” And, if Emma were being honest with herself, she would admit that he was right. But the buzz of the alcohol plus the feelings of emptiness and jealousy were clouding her judgement. “You don’t get to stop me from trying to live my life when you get to live yours.”
“I don’t get to live mine, Killian! You are all I think about!” She yelled, slamming her hand over her mouth when she realized what she just admitted.
Killian’s head snapped back at her words, his voice suddenly lifeless. “Like I said, it’s disappointing you married someone before you met your soul mate, isn’t it?” With that, he started to walk away, his head held down as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.
She wasn’t sure what was happening when she marched over to him, or when she put her hand on his shoulder to turn him around, or when she grabbed the lapels of his black jacket to bring him to her face, to kiss him.
(And she knew it was the worst decision in the world, because kissing him was one of the best feelings in the world, and now that she felt his lips on her own, she knew she couldn’t stop.)
He pulled back, blinking a few times. She could see his mind whirling, trying to figure out why she did that, what she was thinking, and she didn’t have a logical reason.
So she kissed him again, cupping his face and running her fingers through his hair. He pulled her closer, one had on her back and one resting on the back of her head. He turned his head just slightly to deepen the kiss, the change in angle making her moan into his mouth.
Maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgment – she’d never know. But, in that moment, all she knew was that this was never going to be a one-time-thing, because it felt too good to have him that close to her.
His hands were on her sides and his on his shoulders when her back pocket buzzed. She (reluctantly) pulled back from him and slid her hand to grab her phone. Taking it out, she saw Mary Margaret had texted her, “Are you okay?” and suddenly, Emma knew she had been out here with Killian a bit longer than she should be.
She looked back into his eyes. “I should go.”
His face fell, but nodded.
They stood staring at each other before she dropped her eyes and backed up from him. “Don’t follow me. Go get a drink from the bar, or something.”
She could have sworn that, as she was walking away, she heard him mumble, “As you wish.”