Open Wounds | Captain Swan

19. Or Expect Resistance

Talking about her feelings properly, or even allowing herself to think deeper about them than just detecting them had never been her strongest suit. She would always ramble dreadfully in a non-chronological way, and figuring out what she meant would be a tall order for the other person; a perfect example of a misunderstanding.

"I'll cut out his guts and force him to eat them." The anger, which radiated from every sense of his body, blocked his ability to think rationally. He longed to punch something, preferably Albert, but that wasn't a possibility right now.

She forced herself to look at him, although she didn't necessarily have to, she could already guess what kind of emotions his face expression contained. Her predictions were proved correct when her eyes did finally meet his. His jaw was clenched so tight it made her wonder if his muscles would never acidify. Same goes for his fists by the way.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She sighed. She knew the confrontation would arrive eventually, but she had hoped they could've delayed it for a while in some kind of magical way. But on the other hand, avoiding the talk had put them in this position in the first place.

"I-I just..." She trailed off as she could feel her walls shoot back up again, which wasn't a new feeling to her, despite the promise she had made to herself in which she had sworn to never block him out again.

"Come on, Swan!" He jumped up from the saloon table he had been sitting on during her explanation. "I'm a very patient man when it comes to you, and I understand how difficult it is to talk about your feelings for you. In fact, I respect that you try, but this can't go on forever. I thought we had reached a certain point where you could tell me things?" She moved her eyes up his body, which was so close to hers she could barely find opportunities to breathe, but dropped them back to the floor when she saw the amount of disappointment spread across his face.

Silence. A bleak atmosphere surrounding them, but she didn't provide him the reply he wished for. It had never been his intention to make her cry, but yet she was discernibly struggling to withhold the drops of salty liquid. He rubbed his face in the hope it would clear his mind and he make a decision about the serval dilemmas that floated through his skull, but it only postponed his arising headache for a little while.

"Where are you going?" She asked once she had regained awareness of her environment and her mind had semi-stopped analysing every solution to this spoiled situation, which was actually an accidental consequence of not talking when they should have. By the time her words had reached his ears he was already halfway up the stairs.

He stopped climbing the staircase, looking down with shame, but that wasn't the only feeling present. He was positive that when he would allow his thoughts to form a sentence it would hurt her more than ever.

"I'm going to pack my stuff." It was as if someone had driven a dagger through her heart, and needless to say, it stung worse than a wasp sting. He could easily be dead if you judge him by the paleness of his skin. "Your world would be easier if I left and don't come back." He couldn't breathe, swearing his trachea was dilating with every attempt to catch air he made.

She stood up from the couch. Her muscles felt weak and stiff, she figured it was an aftermath of sitting in the same position for too long. She pressured herself to remain silent, and only grant him her response when she had reached the bottom of the stairs.

"That's true," She placed her hand on the wooden railing, so their hands were only inches apart. Both knew she had done it on purpose. It wasn't until now that Killian realized how much he needed to be in his arms, mainly because his stomach was filled with fluttering butterflies when he sensed her hand so close to his. "But it wouldn't be my world without you in it." A sudden smile claimed his lips. His joy was reasonable if you consider that something he had been wanting for a long time had finally occurred, she openly told her about her feelings.

"Is that truly what you want?" It was as if someone had pressed the slow-motion button, everything was suddenly moving so slow, but she still had troubles processing everything. He moved a few steps down, stopping when her hand was within his reach. "For me to stay?" He covered her hand with his completely, the friction dissolving into serval sparks, which ran through both their nerves.

She nodded, and it was the only thing he needed to encourage him enough to close the distance between the two adults. He bit her bottom lip, and they lost control over every movement that betided. The kiss probably looked rushed and uncomfortable to an outsider, but neither of them seemed to care enough to break apart.

Killian's confidence grew faster than her heartbeat, and within a matter of seconds her back hit the wall. For a split second she feared they were going to break the wall, but that fear was replaced by a much more worse one quickly when the realization hit her, they were in the exact same spot as she and Albert had been not even two hours ago. Whether it was Killian's soft, reassuring touch or the fact that she had a strong desire for him that made her brain push that fear aside was unclear. All she was sure of that she was glad it happened.

He was so eager to kiss her and she knew this was far from over. But she had reached a certain point where her lungs were almost literally screaming for fresh air as a fire commenced in the valley of her heart. She knew this would end soon, but she refused to pull away just yet.

She guessed it had only been a few seconds later when they parted, but, admittedly, she had lost track of time a long time ago. It was more a qualitative than a quantitative kiss. It was short, but filled with everything the average person could wish for.

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you." He said once they had decided to sit down on the stairs after their intense moment. She smiled, thinking about how she was so lucky to have a man that would apologies for something that wasn't even a really big deal. "I was just terrified that the past would repeat itself." He admitted, but he wished he could take his words back when she didn't reply. After staring at her for a moment or two he decided it would be for the best to explain, although he had debated it for a while. "I just can't help you when you don't tell me what's bothering you. And don't get me wrong, I want to give you all the space you possibly need. But we are a team, and I love you, so I want to be the best teammate ever."

She sighed, making him get nervous again. His stomach felt weird and he became dizzy as he hoped her conclusion was at least a bit positive.

"Come here." She reached out for him and he was happily relieved. He knew it was never her intention to scare him like that, but even after three years, he still feared this was all a dream and he would wake up at a bad timing, not that he wanted to wake up at all.

His head was resting on her chest and she couldn't help but kiss his temple, closing her eyes to just cherish this moment. And she had never prayed for time to stop more.

"Albert left you a note, by the way." She held up a crumbled piece of paper and he took it from her, the content clearly upsetting him. Of course, she wondered what was written across the material, but she didn't want to evade into his privacy and tried to think of something else. That's why she hadn't read it yet.

"I have to go," His hand was more than clearly trembling. She received a quick glimpse of the words and recognised an address, but she decided not to bother him with any annoying questions. "We'll take about this when I get back, I promise." He pecked her lips and before her brain had even translated the actions into something else, he was gone.

It took quite some time for her to get up. Her mind was going crazy with all kinds of thoughts, and it's safe to say that it was driving her crazy. The first thing she did when she could move again was grab a glass of water. As she took serval sips of it, she grabbed a book so she could attempt to study for a bit and settled on the couch. She turned on the television so it wouldn't be entirely quiet, which was something she didn't like, and that's certainly an understatement.

She had just managed to push all the dilemmas and analyses aside and was finally able to study for a bit when a particular sentence on the television caught her attention.

An explosion and the name of the building sounded all too familiar.

[Hope this was okay, maybe tell me what you think?]