captain swan college au: oh your roommate kicked you out to have sex? so did mine

shared banishment.

She's going to throttle Ruby – or at least she tells herself that as she stalks from the room, holding her hand over her eyes even though the image of her best friend sprawled naked across some blonde guy (she distinctly heard the name 'Victor' being moaned) is seared irrevocably upon her mind. Grumbling under her breath, she lets the door fall closed – only realising that she's left her keys in the apartment afterthe lock clicks into place.

A string of creative curses tumble from her mouth and Emma glares at the door behind which her seditious roommate is apparently having the best sex of her life. And no, her stomach does not clench with envy (she's only been celibate for a month and she outright refuses to be reduced to one of those stereotypical college girls with raging libidos). Abandoning her self-control for a fleeting second, she throws both middle fingers up; silently hurling the crude gesture at the door like it will actually make a difference.

When she is satisfied that her frustration has been quelled, she clenches her fists and pivots on her heel – only to come to an immediate halt when she realises she is being watched.

There is a guy about five doors down the corridor, sitting with his back against the wall, his dark eyebrows drawn up in amusement as he observes her. Embarrassment flushes her cheeks, the scarlet travelling up her neck as she realises he has probably (definitely) just witnessed her very indignant display of exasperation.

The fact that he is attractive only piles onto her mortification; with arctic blue eyes and a lopsided smirk, she can only pray a vortex will yawn open and swallow her up to end her suffering.

"Hi," he calls – and fuck, of course he has an accent. He nods to the door she just mouthed profanities at with a smirk, "Your roommate's a mutinous bastard too?"

Sucking in a breath, she runs a hand through her hair, "That obvious, huh?"

The stranger chuckles, shrugging an affirmative answer so she cannot help the way her lips twitch in response. Before she realises what she's doing, she makes a path towards him – taking note of the very obvious sock folded deliberately over the handle of the door directly beside him. As she reaches him, she looks down at where he is folded against the unappealing yellow wallpaper of the hallway, cocking her head with her hands on her hips.

"At least you got kicked out," she laments, and his grin broadens as she elucidates, "I'm fairly certain I'll never get the mental image of her ass out of my head."

His laughter rumbles in the quiet corridor, an infectious sound that has a soft snort bubbling out of her as she considers the absurdity of the situation. Her limbs are moving of their own volition and suddenly Emma finds herself sliding down the wall opposite him, tucking her legs up under her and leaning her chin on her knees. He watches her before he looks towards the door to his room, folding his arms across his chest and sighing, "At least some people are getting lucky tonight."

"I'm just really hoping she stays off my bed this time," Emma grumbles.

(She loves Ruby to pieces but she nearly murdered her when she found a very used, very unfamiliar condom under her pillow that one time).

He gives her a sympathetic look, "That's rough."

"Tell me about it."

"It could be worse though," he comments and she looks up at him, silently questioning. He tilts his head to the side and his face twists into something resembling grave but it's far too light to be taken seriously, "My roommate came home absolutely sloshed once – he thought he'd brought a girl home, jumped into bed and… let's just say there was no girl and he got in the wrong bed."

A loud bark of laughter escapes her lips before she can tamper down the reaction, his story skirting over her skin so she buckles over from laughter. He joins in a moment later, chortling in self-deprecation as she tries to imagine this poor guy fending off his inebriated roommate's amorous affections. She finds it difficult to not keel over at the hilarity of it. Eventually, the mirth dies down and she shakes her head lightly, still grinning like a fool.

His eyes flit across her face like he is committing it to memory and for some unidentifiable reason, the way he's staring at her makes her stomach swoop. Emma takes it upon herself to fill the silence, crossing her legs and leaning forward on them in curiosity.

"What course are you doing?"

"Pre-med," he answers instantly, returning the question, "What about you?"

"Criminal justice."

He nods, absorbing the information as she does the same. A moment passes where they simply study each other and then he's leaning across the space between them and extending a hand, that same lopsided smirk fixed on his face as he tells her with sparkling eyes, "I'm Killian."

She scrutinizes his hand for a second before she takes it, shaking it once and trying not to shiver when electricity jolts through her veins at the way his thumb brushes over her knuckles. They linger there for an extended moment, hands still folded together when she eventually says, "I'm Emma."

Finally, they drop back to their places against the walls, eyes firmly locked.

She still wants to throttle Ruby.

(But that can wait.)