Chapter Text
« I can never go back to the library. »
Ignoring the gleeful greetings from his mates, Killian let his body down on the bench seat with a dramatic sigh, the weight of the bloody awful day he'd been carrying with him dragging him down.
The pub was crowded, as it would typically be on a Friday night—but Killian was late to their weekly gathering anyway. Everyone around their table seemed to be already quite plastered, if Robin’s cheers and Tink’s hysteric shrieks were any clues to go by. Only Will remained impassive, sipping absentmindedly from his flask. Ah, well, that was another story: if Will Scarlet was still standing up straight and still brooding in his corner of the booth, Killian supposed he wasn’t that late.
« You've been banned or something? » Tink asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
« I’m sure it’s nothing, mate. Oi, Ruby! »
The part-time waitress turned around with a whip of her impossibly long ponytail, red streaks catching light, one hand impatiently propped on her hip. She lifted a questioning eyebrow to which Robin only winked in response. (God, the man was such a flirt when inebriated, it was impossible.)
« Ruby love, bring the lad a Guinness, would’ya? »
« Shots too! » Tink added, hands clasping together with excitement. « Please? »
A short but animated debate about the appropriate time to order shots then ensued between the two ("It's 10 o'clock, Olivia. We're not doing shots at 10 o'clock..." "-Do not call me that, you know I despise it."), but Ruby was long gone. Directly across from him, Belle seemed to be the only one to still be able to distinguish her left side from her right side. Side-eyeing their friends, she shook her head with an amused smile before turning to Killian. « So. Have you really been banned from the library? Want me to pull out some strings for you? »
Killian winced, embarrassment creeping up his cheeks, coloring them in a subtle shade of pink. Everyone turned to stare at him, of course. He deeply regretted bringing it up at all, now.
« Did you get caught shagging someone in the dinosaurs’ section? »
The whole table grimaced at Scarlet’s comment.
« Thanks very much for the visual, Will. » Belle replied with exasperation.
Ruby came back with their order, providing a much needed distraction to the group. ("We’re out of Guinness, sorry, Killian.") Thanking her, Killian took a long gulp from his beer anyway—he didn’t have the heart to be picky about his choice of drinks tonight—while the rest of them were tossing down their tequilas. But soon enough, their attention spun right back to him. ("Come on, Jones, spill it!") He looked down and started playing with the condensation on the glass of his bottle.
« Oh well, it’s nothing much. My life is over, is all. »
« Always so bloody dramatic, that one, » Robin grinned, pointing his finger at him.
With an annoyed grunt, Killian dived his head into his hands. He should have kept his bloody gob shut. There was no way he was getting out of it now. « All right, all right…» he consented, reluctant. « But promise you won’t laugh, aye? » The whole table nodded in agreement. Killian eyed them, skeptic. Rubbish, he thought with amusement.
(He knew them better than that.)
« So. I was leaving the library earlier, through the revolving door. »
Tink lifted a hand almost immediately, interrupting him. « There’s a revolving door in the library? Where? »
« Uh, try the front door, maybe? » Scarlet mocked.
« How would you know? You never go there! » Belle commented.
« Well, I’ve been to the dinosaurs’ section and— »
« Shhh! I wanna hear the rest of it… » Robin protested.
Ignoring the lot of them, Killian went on: « If you’re a polite person, it’s basically muscle memory to hold the door open for whoever’s behind you, aye? »
« Debatable, » Merida grinned, moving her arm around Mulan’s shoulders.
« Anyway. I was reading something on my bloody phone, so I was distracted, » Killian then explained, sipping his drink. « And suddenly, I realize there’s this gorgeous lass behind me. » A collective "wouuuuh" of appreciation resonated, almost covering the ambient clamor of the pub. Killian blushed, and held out a hand, shaking his head. « Now picture this: she had coffee in one hand and books in the other… »
« Oh boy, » Tink whispered, before gulping down another shot of tequila (probably the one destined to him).
« …I really don’t know what got into me… »
Will scoffed at him. « Ouh, I’d sure give my two cents on that, mate. How hot are we talking? »
Killian kept going, ignoring him. « …But I held my hand back to stop the motion of the door… »
« Oh boy, » Tink repeated.
« She walked right into the glass, coffee spilled all over her sweater, the books went tumbling down… It was a bloody mess. »
He gulped down the rest of his drink and shook his head in desperation, replaying the scene over and over in his head, in slow motion, like it would in a movie.
He was looking above his shoulder, she was walking towards him, hips swaying one way to the other, blond hair cascading on her shoulders in silky waves. Somewhere inside his undeniably deranged brain, the first notes of "Lay All Your Love On Me" by ABBA had started playing ("ABBA? seriously?). She was a vision, there was no other word for it, mesmerizing in every way. And then, the impossible happened: she threw him a glance, batting her eyes, lips stretching in a shy smile. He could feel his insides shrink up, his heart melting like butter on a warm toast.
He could see his hand now, reaching for the door, grabbing it, stopping the mechanism. He could see her face, radiant in the soft autumn light, all green eyes and pink cheeks. A slight frown was creasing the space between her brows. Right at that moment, the glass hit her forehead. Coffee spilled everywhere. Books tumbled down. She looked up, her expression switching from "What the hell are you doing?" to "I'm going to murder you any second now" so quickly he didn't even had time to wrap his mind around what just happened. Behind the glass, the girl started yelling at him.
Belle's voice brought him back to reality:
« What did you do? »
He shrugged. « What any sensible person would have done: I panicked and ran. »
« Oh boy. »
Once again, a collective "noooooo" covered the clamor of the pub. Belle couldn't resist the urge to facepalm. A moment after, comments were streaming in every direction. ("What do you mean, you ran?" ; "You didn't apologize?" ; "Wait, you didn't even help her?" ; "Poor lass." ; "What is wrong with you?") Killian nodded, matter-of-factly. He lifted his empty beer in derision: « Today, ladies and gentlemen, I fucked up...by trapping a girl in a revolving door! It's all right, you can laugh now. »
But, surprisingly enough, nobody did ; they only winced in unison. Robin patted his shoulder with a sympathetic nod. « All right, mate, after that, you deserve another round. Does anyone see Rub-»
But Killian interrupted him. « That's all right mate, I'll walk up to the counter myself. » He got up and cleared his way across the pub absentmindedly to order the other round. He waited for Ruby's return at the bar, leaning against the counter and let his thoughts carry him away.
He had made an absolute fool of himself today. He couldn't believe it himself. A quiet laugh escaped him as he was remembering the scene once again. It was almost comical now, really. Now he was thinking of it, she looked positively pissed, trapped like a caged animal behind that glass door. He bet she would have gladly chased him down if she hadn't been trapped ; she looked like a tough lass. Another smile escaped his lips at the thought.
Ruby reappeared and he proceeded to order their drinks, flirting a bit with her because why the hell not? Moments after, he was turning around with a wink to the brunette by way of thanking her, when his body entered in collision with something, or rather—someone. Ugh. It was obviously not his day.
A sharp voice protested. « Seriously?! »
« Bloody hell, I'm so-»
« You! »
He looked down, slightly annoyed, and met a pair of sulking green eyes.
The lass from the revolving door incident was staring (quite angrily) at him. She had changed into a silky emerald blouse, a color that suited her complexion perfectly, especially since their collision had resulted in her spilling most of her drink on herself, leaving the damp fabric to cling to her every forms. Bloody hell.
« You're the jerk who trapped me in the revolving door! » And with a sudden whip of her wrist, she threw the rest of her drink—mojito, he tasted— to his face. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but smile like the idiot that he was, cold liquid dripping down his face. Tough lass, indeed.
« Aye...fair enough. I deserved that, » he said, wrinkling his eyes to remove the cold liquid.
« Damn right! »
On that note, she turned her back on him, mumbling a succession of colourful insults under her breath as she went. Still awe-struck, he didn't move for a second or two, before coming back to his senses. He simply couldn't believe his luck. He thought he'd never see her again, and there she was. He hurried himself and followed her through the crowd, grabbing a handful of napkins on his way to dry his face with it.
Finally, he caught her by the wrist. « Wait! » She looked down at his hand and his grasp on her wrist, and then back at him, severely. He let go of her (before she had the chance to hit him in the face, or something). « Let me buy you a drink, » he shrugged, grinning. « I owe you that much. »
« Oh, you think? » she spat, pointing at the state of her shirt with an angry finger. « That's twice in a day! And do you have any idea how hard it is to wash coffee off white cashmere? »
He scratched behind his right ear in discomfort. « I, err...I can't say that I do. Listen, love, I apologize for my unbelievably rude behaviour. I don't know what the devil I was thinking...»
« Tell that to the bump on my head! »
« Aye...I...I panicked. »
She lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed.
« I'm sorry, » he asserted, locking eyes with her, all the while doing his best to ignore the butterflies trapped in his ribcage. Something shifted in her face. He observed her soften, obviously confused. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Killian dared to hope. « Come on lass, take a leap of faith, » he grinned, extending a hand. « Name's Killian. »
Her gaze left his eyes to look at his hand, then back at him, eyelashes batting against the tender curve of her cheekbones. Finally, she took his hand.
« Emma. »
//
Much later that night, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
E: Technically, you owe me coffee, too.