Water In My Lungs

New Beginnings

Killian sat on the couch quietly, his right ankle resting on his left knee. He was leaned back into the cushions of the couch and his head tilted on the hard, backboard of the piece of furniture. He'd been waiting all day for Estelle to wake up. He looked at his watch: 6:46 P.M.

Connor rushed around the house, slamming every cupboard door she closed and throwing anything she set down. Her small feet fell heavily on the linoleum when she walked. She was livid.

The sun shined brightly through the window and Killian grimaced at its presence.Doesn't seem fitting, he thought to himself, following Connor with his gaze as she tossed herself into the arm chair opposite him.

“Darlin',” Killian spoke in a consoling tone. “Darlin', come sit with me.” He patted the cushion next to him. Connor tapped the air with her toe, crossed legs and arms displaying her agitation. She avoided his gaze momentarily before standing and coming over to him. She turned her cheek as she sat, one leg bent under her.

“I just don't know what to do,” she whispered. Killian's fingers reached out to her, brushing gently over the soft skin of her face.

“C'mere,” his voice rustled almost silently and he opened his arms to her. She sank into him. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he held her close, both sharing a deep breath.

“It'll be okay,” he said. He kissed the top of her head.

“I could kill him,” Connor said curtly, her jaw tightening against his chest. “If I ever see him again, Killian...” she trailed off angrily.

“I know, love. I know. We'll handle it, one day at a time.” He kissed her head again and then her cheek when she raised her face to look at him.

“Should we go check on her?” she asked with concern. Her pattered her arm and began to push himself up from the couch.

“I'll do it.” He walked with purpose to the stairs and clopped up them, elbows bent and bouncing as he did so. The man stepped coyly up to the door to the right of the stairs and lifted his hand to the wood of it. He paused, knuckles presented to knock, but taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Then he heard her stir from the other side, so he knocked.

“Yes.” He barely heard her voice come from the other side. He opened the door and stepped in slowly.

“Estelle, how are you doing?” He kept his voice low as he spoke, hands open and stance nonthreatening.

Estelle rolled over in her bed, covers piled all around her. She looked at him from over a fragile shoulder, eyes red and puffy. Her face remained still, staring at Killian from across the room. Her lip trembled.

“I don't know,” she said as she rolled back over to face the wall. "He..." Estelle began, but a dry sob escaped her lips instead of words. She shook her head angrily, rubbing her fist across her nose as she turned back to the man in the doorway. Killian let the door shut with a soft click behind him. He approached her delicately, hand on the mattress as he leaned onto the floor beside her.
"I know, you don't have to say it." Killian used the comforter of the bed as a silent outlet for his anger towards the Kelpie, grip on the sheets turning his knuckles white. He was afraid to pull himself any closer to the young woman, letting her keep her space as she tried desperately to regain her composure.
"He tricked me," she whispered, voice hoarse and confused, "I should have known, it was so simple-- I'm stupid--" The blonde found trouble directing her glare at the open window.
"You aren't," Killian's tone was gentle, eyes full of intensity and comfort. "You aren't. It's not your fault, no matter how it played out, you've got to understand that it wasn't your fault."
The girl looked as if a dark cloud had settled over the purity of her grey eyes. Estelle's thoughts were clear as they danced across her contorting features. 
"I lied to you..." she mumbled. "I tried to reason with Bedivere. You had told me not to, that it would mean sacrifice." She laughed with resentment towards herself, but her hand reached out, touching the hem of Killian's jeans in a small gesture of thanks.
He hushed her, "''Stelle, we love you. Nothing you say is going to convince me that you deserved this... That man is... He's not a man,” the brunette murmured, reaching over to place a hand on her shoulder. Killian would not speak his name, stomach turning when he attempted to do so. She nodded weakly, tears falling freely once more as her face fell into his chest. She heaved past her cries.
Nearly an hour had passed before she had calmed enough to remove herself, wiping her fogged eyes with a grunt of pain.
Killian jolted at the sound, "What is it? Are you okay?"
"It's just a cramp, I think." Estelle cradled her side, straightening herself, "I've felt sick..." 
The brunette was distracted from the young woman with a dark movement outside near the lake. He sprung to his feet, stomping over to the blinds and drawing them closed.  Fucking Kelpies.  He'd seen the dark horse that had wandered too far, just outside the deck that traveled around the small house. 
"What are you doing?" Estelle whispered, eyes darting from the man angrily retreating from her door and landing suspiciously to the window.
"I'll be right back," Killian called over his shoulder, his tone a poor attempt to hide the rage that swelled beneath it. Estelle watched him from the door as Connor began to question him quietly as well, falling mute on the younger blonde's ears. He disappeared into the room.
"What are you doing in the attic?!" Connor's voice carried, confused.