The rain was slowly falling down her head as she was sitting by the lake, her fogged eyes staring into the distance. Her brows were furrowed, her arms limply by her side. It was the same spot, the same bench were she had told him she cared... but she wished she never had. After she had left the bathroom to quickly dress herself, ignoring his worried questions and troubled looks, she had left him in her hotel room, not even knowing where to go. Her feet had brought her here, though, to the park and she had surrendered to their unconscious decision. Sitting down, Emma had wished for another time travel, another chance to change things back to normal again. To a time where she wasn't vulnerable...

Heavy drops dripped down the ground, drumming a calming beat, gawky ducks accompanying the song of the rain while carelessly paddling on the water. Emma sighed, listening to the dulcet tones of the symphony that filled out the silence, just perfectly. She had lost any track of time when her ears noticed the sound of light-footed shoes touching the gritty ground. She knew it in the instant; by the pace of his walk, she knew it had to be him. And without even looking up, only a few stiff words left her mouth with a pitch just loud enough to make him perceive them.

"I don't wanna talk to you right now."

The sound of his walk stopped when he reached the bank, taking a moment before he answered.

"Fine, then don't talk. I can appreciate some quiescence," he said, sitting down next to her, "as long as I can sit by your side." Killian looked straight to the lake, a faint smile on his lips. Emma couldn't help but look at him from under her thick eyelashes, mirroring his smile. There he was, the man that hadn't left her side, once, at least not on his own account. Ever since he had come back for her to lead them to Neverland, he had always found her, supported her through it all. But why couldn't she shake this odd feeling, this misgiving that made her feel just miserable. It was as if his affection was a house of cards and she was the wind. She didn't yet know what to call what they had, but sooner or later it would collapse. She couldn't even handle his tattoos, she thought, how in this world was she supposed to make this all work? Her smile slowly faded away and the heavy cloud in the inner of her chest returned, again. She felt an invisible weight dragging her down, like delicate strings pulling at her fingers, at her calves, at her neck; she had to fight gravity hauling her, but she didn't know for how long she could strive against it, or if she could strive at all. While Emma was still battling with herself, Killian finally broke the silence.

"I apologize, if what I said hurt your feelings. That wasn't my intent." He looked over to her, sincerity in his azure eyes. Emma fled his gaze.

"No need to apologize. I asked and you spoke. It's not your fault you had this kick-ass romance going on." Killian's lips formed a crooked smile, his eyes soft and caring.

"The shade of your tone implies jealousy, Swan." Emma's eyes widened, his words leaving her mouth open for a second.

"I'm - I'm not jealous, okay?" She blinked with fluttery eyes. Killian took a deep sigh, trying to read her face.

"Then what is it, Swan?" Emma looked down at her entangled fingers. "What changed?"

She wasn't even sure herself. She couldn't name him the reasons she ran away. All she knew was that this was the only constant in her life, the only thing she knew would never change. It was just what she did.

"I don't know... I guess I just panicked, or something..."

"Why would you do that?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

Emma took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs. The strings pulled at her, again, and deep down she knew, she was lying to herself. She knew exactly why she ran away. It was just too hard to admit it to herself... and him...

"What could possibly alarm you like this?" Emma only shook her head, not wanting to reveal her thoughts. But she felt his gaze on her, every cell of her body feeling the pressure of his silent demand for clarification. And the more he looked, the more the strings dragged her downwards. Emma felt the panic rush back through her veins and she knew she couldn't fight it any longer, neither could she flight. Not this time. Not again. Her breath sped up preserving herself from fainting, as he opened his mouth with the most encouraging intent, yet she didn't let him talk. She couldn't stop herself from finally spilling it out.

"It's your love story, okay?!" she almost yelled, but when she noticed Killian's slightly startled reaction, she reduced her volume, still maintaining her harsh tone.

"It's epic! I mean, 300 years! And obviously you still can't get over it with your tattoos and scars and stories you like. I mean, really? 'The Red Death'? Why not something else? Why not, I don't know, 'The Great Gatsby' or something? That guy liked the bling as much as you do!"

Emma was still gasping for air, the green in her eyes blazing with temper, when Killian involuntary had to smile.

"What's so funny?" Emma screamed now, feeling mocked.

"Just tell me, love, I fail to comprehend one thing." Killian pursed his lips, raising a brow.

"So, every time you look into your boy's eyes, you see Baelfire there, but you're jealous of some ink and a scar?" Emma's lashes flickered when the truth in his simple words hit her conscience like lightning hit the tree. He was right, she admitted to herself, Henry was to him what his tattoo was to her; an eternal reminder of their past. But she still couldn't shake her doubts; she couldn't help but keep her protest going.

"I'm not jealous," she sighed, facing the lake, though the weakness in her tone didn't even convince herself, anymore, she thought. So, when she looked back to find his gaze, something in the depths of his blue sprinkled eyes told her, that he was right. She may not like it, but that didn't change the fact that he had read her like an open book; as usual.

"O-kay," she stuttered, finally giving in, finally opening up, "maybe I am... a little... jealous... or whatever... but it's more than that, I mean, it's just..." She looked him in the eyes and for the first time, since she ran away, he could see right through them, all of her walls being down.

"How am I... how am I ever gonna compete with that? With her?" Killian bowed his head now, his hook touching her golden hair.

"Why would you ever have to compete with her?" he whispered.

"Because I do!" Emma couldn't stop the tears anymore, the hot pearls burning her skin.

"You loved her, unconditionally and loyally, for centuries. I mean, you act like you forgave Gold, but you haven't, you probably never will, and how could you? She was your life! And he took it from you and there's just no way I can come up to this ghost that is your perfect super-ex. You're never gonna..." Emma's voice broke, her hazy eyes fleeing his.

"Never going to what, Swan?"

"Nothing..." Killian looked at her, wearing genuine concern on his face. He sighed, before he moved his good hand to her chin, two fingers gently forcing her to meet his sincere eyes.

"Emma, look at me," he said with a velvet voice, furrowing his brows. "I deserted my crew, I gave up my home for you, I risked my life to find you, isn't that proof enough for how much you mean to me?"

"I never told you to do any of that," she slightly shook her head, the tears still sparkling in her eyes.

"Aye, you didn't. But that doesn't change the fact that if I had to, I'd do it all over again. I have not a single regret." Emma's eyes fluttered at his confession, making her heart skip a tiny beat.

"Emma, you have to understand one thing," he paused a moment to make sure she was still looking at him.

"The way I loved Milah, and she loved me, wasn't only consuming, it was destructive. Even back then, when she was still alive..." he swallowed, "she had wounded me with her love and her love only had the powers to heal me again. But once she was gone, I was left bleeding - scarred for eternity. The wound didn't only bleed me dry, though, it got infected. The infection poisoned me from the inside, doomed me with darkness." His earnest face lit up now.

"But when I look at you, I don't see destruction. All I see is light; hope," he smiled, "You won't ever have to compete with anyone, love. Not as long as I am alive."

"What makes you so sure of that?" she searched his eyes for answers, finding nothing but confidence in them.

"You gave me reason to fight away the darkness, to find my old form. You helped me to close my wounds, to wash out the poison. You gave me strength and lead my way. You are my light, Emma," he almost whispered now, staring at her peach pink lips, "Like the North Star guides the sailor, you guide me home; every day." Killian's face moved closer to her, making her feel his warm and still unfamiliar yet sweet breath meeting her skin, his wet hair brushing her forehead.

"You bring out the best in me, Swan, making me want to be the man I once used to be, a man of honor." And just before his soft lips touched hers, his breath carried four single words into her mouth, that changed everything, that made her believe that maybe this was right, that maybe she wasn't the wind but the glue that held the house of cards together. It made her want to hold on to what once seemed to be a hopeless dream – her very own happy ending. It made her want to believe it was possible for her... with him...

Everything changed when he whispered...

"You saved me, Swan."