{Emma}
It was him. The man who had almost run me over with his horse in Central Park. I had only seen him for a fleeting instant before I had jumped out of his way and he had gone cantering off down the trail. However short my glimpse was, I'd know that scruffy beard and blue eyes anywhere.
"Sorry!" the man yelped as he began dabbing his spilled coffee off of my maroon sweater with a few cheap brown paper napkins borrowed from the hot dog vendor next to us.
"Do you often go around screwing up people's lives or do you just have a particular disliking of mine?" I remarked as I awkwardly tried to see the stain over my cream colored scarf. All I could see was the steam as the hot coffee met with the brisk New York autumn air.
"Excuse me?" he said, taken aback.
"This isn't the first time you've nearly bowled me over."
"Really?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Do you not remember horseback riding in the park and practically trampling me?"
The man blushed furiously. "I'm terribly sorry about that by the way. I honestly would've apologized but Rodger -the horse- seemed to have urgent plans back at the stables and felt the need to run as fast as possible to get there."
"Maybe he was cold," I suggested grumpily.
"Oh, um, would you like to head to the coffee shop down the street? We can warm ourselves and arrange how I'm going to pay you back for your sweater."
I thought for a moment then conceded, "Only if you're buying the coffee."
"Consider it a gift for when I almost ran over you." He laughed.
***
I could feel the barista judging me as I ordered my latte. I couldn't really blame her. My long blonde curls were pulled up in a messy bun. I wore my favorite sweater and scarf with stretchy black leggings and black knee high leather boots. I looked like a typical white girl. When prompted for a name to write on my beverage the man stepped in with "Killian".
"Killian, huh?" I asked skeptically.
"Yup." he replied, "Yours?"
"Emma."
"Pretty name for a pretty woman." I could feel my face flush scarlet and I looked at the floor. Instantly my protective instincts kicked in and I found myself analyzing everything Killian had said or done. He could very easily be trying to murder me, or lure me somewhere to take advantage of me. And yet something told me he was being genuine. I call it my superpower; being able to determine the validity of anyone's statement.
His name was called, signaling our drinks were ready. We grabbed the plastic cups and found a quiet table in the back corner, sitting down across from each other.
{Continue to Part II for Killian}
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Ship in a Bottle
Fanfiction~A collection of CaptainSwan One Shots and AU's. ~ I wrote all of these unless otherwise stated. ~Most are split into two parts. These often represent different points of view. ~I wrote these when I was just starting to write, so they're not perfec...
