A/N: Here's the last chapter--I'm quite proud of myself for getting it uploaded before Tuesday!

Like I said last chapter, this whole chapter is based off the line, "There are so many things you don't know about me, and I can't wait to introduce them all to you," said by Will to Emma. Instead of choosing five quirky/cute things about Will, I only did three because I discovered I am not capable of writing a 300-500 word drabble as I planned for each one. Instead, they are all close to 1000 words and I just didn't have time to do five of those. Thanks to everyone who suggested a quirk for Will. Stephy-Lou Clark-Weasley and The Duchessina will see that I used some of their ideas, so thanks guys!

I hope you enjoy, and look out for more Wemma fics in the future!

He sang in the shower

She couldn't really say when she had moved in with Will. It happened, gradually, until one day, all of her clothes were hung neatly in the closet beside Will's. Her tooth brush now made its home on the opposite side of the sink of Will's, and mixed among his hair products and his cologne were her own face washes, soaps, and perfumes.

They shared a bed, and as queer as it would've been to any other couple living together, sleeping together—in the purest definition of sleep—was all they did together. They had gotten close to crossing the line several times, but Emma would always end it in a state of panic, and it would turn into yet another night of innocent cuddling.

They developed an unofficial schedule for the mornings. Emma always got the bathroom first. She woke up almost a whole hour before Will to begin her tedious regimen. Shower, brush teeth, wash face, put on make up, style hair, and then back to the room to dress just as Will stumbled into the bathroom to take his five minute shower.

Even on weekends, Emma was always up before Will. Showering, as always, was first on her agenda, but on the weekends, she dressed more casually, left her hair to naturally curl, and put on minimal makeup. Instead, she spent her time preparing breakfast, a luxury the busy couple hardly had time to squeeze in during the school week.

This particular morning, Emma woke to the bright blare of sunlight spilling through the window onto the bed. She squinted as she sat up, surprised when she realized Will was not in bed beside her. She glanced toward the clock, her heart skipping a beat when she realized it was almost ten thirty. She never slept this late.

The events from the night before slowly came back to here. They had stayed up late watching a movie, and Emma had drunk more wine than she was typically used to. In fact, she could hardly remember watching the second half of the movie or even putting on the white patterned nightgown she was currently wearing.

She had not had enough to drink to inflict a hangover—only enough to muddle her mind and make her sleep more deeply. In fact, she felt surprisingly refreshed as she climbed out of bed.

Today was a sheet changing day, she reminded herself. It was an agreement she and Will had come to after he discovered she changed her sheets everyday. Sheets just weren't durable enough to last for a while with constant washing, and Emma did sheepishly admit she replaced her sheets quite often. Will thought it was reasonable to change them once a week, so they settled on every three days, which Emma was surprisingly dealing with quite well.

Her bladder was annoying full, so nature's call came before the sheets. But as she walked down the hall toward the bathroom, she heard a steady stream of water on the opposite side of the door. Will had beaten her to the bathroom this morning.

He couldn't be too much longer, Emma told herself, trying to ignore her full bladder. To keep her mind off it, she decided to get a simple breakfast started. But as she entered the kitchen, she realized Will had beaten her to it. The table was set for two with a pitcher of orange juice and a plate of steaming pancakes placed in the center. Even the dishes were washed and placed neatly back into the cabinets.

Emma couldn't help but to grin. Will had certainly been busy this morning.

Will was still in the shower when she walked back toward the bedroom. The overwhelming urge to relieve her bladder was becoming increasingly uncomfortable—so uncomfortable that she couldn't even bring herself to begin to change the bed.

Though she knew she hardly waited for even a minute, it felt like an eternity to her desperate bladder. Finally, she could bear it no longer. She hurried down the hall, knocking hesitantly at the bathroom door.

No answer.

When she knocked for a second time and still received no answer, she decided she was too desperate to worry about being polite. Luckily, he hadn't locked the door, so she pried it open, stepping into the steamy bathroom.

"When I'm walking beside her, people tell me I'm lucky," Will sang, belting out the lyrics to The Beatles Song. "Yes, I know I'm a lucky guy. I remember the first time I was lonely without her. Can't stop thinking about her now."

"Every little thing she does, she does for me, yeah," Emma joined him as he reached the refrain.

His voice faded, and she heard some shuffling behind the curtain. A moment later, he poked his dripping head out from behind the curtain, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, looking at Emma standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Come to kick me out?"

"Actually," she mumbled, shifting from foot to foot as she fought to control her bladder, "just using the toilet would be nice."

Will laughed. "Well, let me give you some privacy." He courteously pulled his head back behind the shower curtain.

Emma gladly hurried to the toilet, hardly caring that she usually preferred to take care of her bodily functions in complete privacy. As she washed her hands, the showered stopped.

"Mind handing me towel, Em?" Will asked, sounding casual.

Emma blushed as she fumbled with a towel from the rack, and the color of her cheeks only deepened as Will stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

"Well, the bathroom's all yours," he told her as he stepped over the threshold. "Think you could make it a quick shower today? I made breakfast, and it's probably already getting cold."

This morning had already been completely unconventional according to Emma's standards, and she knew she should take comfort in a shower, but instead, she dared to go out a limb. "You know, I think I'll, um, skip the shower for now. Let's see how quickly you can get dressed—those pancakes are only getting colder."

Will looked slightly shocked at her sudden easy going attitude, but instead of questioning it, he took advantage of her rare spontaneous mood. "I bet I could throw something on in less than a minute."

"You're on the clock," she told him, liking the freedom she allowed herself to have this morning.

"A minute and five seconds," she told him as he entered the kitchen. "You're going to need to work on that one."

He chuckled, kissing her softly before sitting down opposite of her. He began dishing out the pancakes.

"You know," Emma told him, munching on her plain pancake contently, "I can't remember the last time I ate breakfast in my pajamas."

"Well, we just might have to make a habit of it," Will told her. "Saturday's can be our new breakfast in pajamas day. Remind me not to shower next time."

Emma laughed, "But then I can't listen to you sing!"

"Hmm," Will said thoughtfully. "Would you be opposed to me putting my pajamas back on after I shower then?"

Emma grinned at him. She could get used to these unconventional Saturday mornings.

He drank milk straight out of the carton

Emma had many pet peeves about people's sanitary habits. The way people lived often had her cringing, and though her life of solitude could hardly be considered a life, she was at least glad that she didn't have to put up with people's bad habits on a daily basis.

She was glad to discover that Will was fairly good when it came to hygienic habits. She hardly ever found his laundry on the floor, and when she had flipped out after finding a dirty sock left in the bathroom, she had not found another one since. He always replaced the cap on the toothpaste tub, and he never left his bubbly spit in the sink after brushing. She was pleased to discover the toilet seat was never left lifted when she needed to use the bathroom, and he never left the dishes undone after a meal, which was easily one of Emma's greatest pet peeves.

It was Wednesday morning, and this was easily one of the busiest days of the week for the pair. It was the only day of the week that the SAT prep course and Glee practice fell on the same day, so the pair was always in a rush these mornings to make sure they were prepared for their after school commitments.

They were already behind this morning. Though they had gotten better about sharing the bathroom, it also came with consequences. Emma had ended up with a glob of toothpaste on her perfectly pressed blouse while brushing quickly past Will standing at the sink. Though Will tried to convince her that all she needed to do was change her blouse, Emma insisted on another shower (thankfully pinning back her hair so she didn't need to go through will the tedious styling process again as well).

Now she hurried into the kitchen, wearing a completely new outfit—a white pencil skirt with a pink sweater, pink pumps, and a rose brooch. Breakfast was rushed on normal days, so today was even tighter. She grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet that she would eat during first period (eating in the car was a big no-no). Will joined her in the kitchen a moment later, hurriedly rummaging through the fridge. He pulled out the lunches Emma had packed the night before, then a carton of two percent milk.

And he drank it straight from the carton.

Emma's eyes widened in horror at the unsanitary display before her. "Will!" she practically shrieked. "What do you think you're doing?"

Will stopped mid-gulp, looking guilty as he lowed the carton from his lips.

"How often do you do that?" she practically groaned, watching Will lick his milk mustache away.

Will shrugged, replacing the carton back on the fridge. "Em, it's not the end of the world. Besides, that's my milk. I can promise you I've never touched your soy milk."

"Will, that's beside the point," Emma hyperventilated slightly. "That's a disgusting habit. You had better not do that with any of the other drinks in our fridge."

Will lifted his hands up in defense. "I promise, it's only my milk I do it with. And if it will make you stop freaking out, I can promise you I'll get a cup next time."

They didn't have anymore time to argue; they were probably already going to be late as it was. Since their after school activities ended at different times, they took separate cars to school on Wednesdays. Their busy schedules prevented the couple from crossing paths the entire day; Emma even had a guidance appointment scheduled for their typical lunch period, so it wasn't until the exhausted pair stumbled into the apartment after a demanding afternoon that they saw each other.

The whole day, a feeling of guilt had been tugging at Emma's stomach. She hardly ever fought with Will, and when they did, they make up practically moments later. Though she wasn't sure if their little squabble this morning qualified as a proper fight, she certainly hadn't liked leaving it unresolved.

She was home before Will, so she started dinner, looking resentfully at that carton of milk as she pulled out the ingredient for a salad from the fridge.

Half an hour later with the salad in the fridge and a tray of veggie lasagna in the oven, the front door creaked open as Will entered the apartment.

He looked at her tentatively, unsure of where they stood. She approached him, an unreadable expression on her face, and shocked him by wrapping her arms around his neck as she lifted her chin to kiss him deeply.

"And here I was, expecting you to be all angry with me," Will chuckled once they broke apart.

"I'm sorry, Will," she told him. "I really, you know, overreacted this morning."

"No, Em, I completely understand. It is a bad habit that I'm going to need to break," he assured her, squeezing her hand gently.

"No, Will, you're terrific. Really, you are. I never imagined living with another person could be this easy and enjoyable. This is silly of me—gosh, we don't even drink the same milk, and you've had to make so many other compromises based on my, um, you know, standards…I think it's only fair if I let this one go."

He smiled at her, pulling her close to him. "Thanks, Em. I promise I'll only do it when I'm in a rush—and when you're not around to see me do it."

Emma returned the smile, "That's a comprise I can deal with—though every time I see that milk, I won't be able to help but to think of your little habit…"

"Emma, you are completely impossible," he laughed, lifting her chin so he could place a kiss on her lips. "But it just makes me love you all the more."

He got up to clean the bathroom with her at two in the morning.

Before Will, Emma had dated a total of one and a half guys. The half referred to Trevor, the boy she had dated her senior in high school. She was convinced he only dated her as a charity case—after all, he was a sweet boy and she was the freak who ate her lunch alone while carefully scrubbing every grape before she consumed it.

Though he was sweet, and he was able to help Emma emerge slightly from the protected shell she had created for herself, their relationship didn't last past the hand holding stage. Emma had discovered that he didn't wash his hands after using the bathroom and quickly ended the relationship.

Kevin, her college boyfriend, had been much more serious. They had started dating her sophomore year, and he was surprisingly patient and respectful when it came to her many insecurities. He was the first boy she kissed, and he was the first boy she allowed to touch her more intimately than she had ever allowed before.

They never had sex, and a year into the relationship, Kevin was beginning to get impatient. She'd always tell him she'd be ready soon, but soon never came, and he broke up with her.

Emma was left heart broken and convinced that no man would be able to love her unless she offered him intimacy, so she spent the next years of her life isolating herself from any sort of relationship.

That was until she met Will, and slowly her perception of men began to change.

Will's patience was unfailing. Though there were many times Emma could tell he was annoyed with her, their little tiffs hardly lasted long and the pair always found a compromise that worked for their different views.

The first time they tried to have sex, it was not beautiful or graceful, the way Emma had hoped her first time would be. In fact, Emma had burst into tears only seconds into their love making.

Will had freaked out, frightened that he had hurt her, which only made Emma cry harder. She spent an ungodly amount of time in the shower, and when she had finally emerged with raw skin and her eyes still swollen from her tears, she had refused to discuss it any further with Will.

The weeks after that, Emma was slowly beginning to deteriorate. She was on edge more than she had ever been, and she knew Will's concern was increasing greatly. One drop of jelly on the floor meant she had to clean the entire kitchen. One speck of food found on a dinner plate led to her scrubbing the whole set by hand. She threw away all the drinks in the fridge claiming the lids had not been screwed on tightly enough. She flinched when he touched her unexpectedly, and she cried inconsolably when they retired to bed each night.

He wanted to call a doctor, but even the mention of that idea caused Emma to lock herself in the bathroom for over an hour.

She slept poorly, tossing and turning for hours at a time. Will would try to sing her softly to sleep each time her anxiety skyrocketed, but the sound of his sweet voice only sent around another wave of tears.

It was almost two in the morning when Emma decided that she could not spend another minute staring at the dark ceiling above her. For once, Will slept soundly beside her, exhausted from the many nights in a row she had kept him up.

She padded softly down the hall toward the bathroom, turning on the blaring light as she entered. She took in her appearance in the mirror. Underneath her eyes, heavy dark circles had formed. Her face was thin, brought on by sudden weight loss from her increased anxiety and lack of appetite.

She had only cleaned the bathroom yesterday, but her increased anxiety only made her more anal than usual. Shaking slightly, she dug out the cleaning supplies from under the sink as she vigorously threw herself into the unnecessary cleaning project.

Half an hour later, Will stumbled into the bathroom. "Em?" His eyes widened, pulling him out of his groggy state.

As expected, Emma burst into tears, and Will was unsure whether or not to comfort her or not, unsure if it would make the situation worse.

But she looked so pathetic, crouched over the bathtub with tears streaming down her cheeks, that he couldn't help but to gather her in his arms. He was relieved when she relaxed in his embrace, the tears finally ceasing.

He didn't dare ask what was wrong for fear that she would lose it once again. Instead, he offered to help her clean.

The pair was silent for a while, as the scrubbed at dirt that wasn't even there. Finally, Emma stopped. She watched Will, cleaning the crevices of the toilet with a Q-tip. She bit her lips, unsure of what she had done to deserve a man who loved her this much.

She knew she was being completely unfair, making him suffer through the hell she had put him through these past few weeks.

"I'm sorry, Will."

He looked up at her. Stopped scrubbing. He was silent for what felt like an eternity. "Sorry for what?"

He was much too good for her, and Emma had to bite her lip to refrain from bursting into tears. "Will, I've been awful, and it's not fair of me to put you through this…"

"Em, I'll do anything for you. I never want you to feel like anything you're feeling is ridiculous or doesn't matter," he told her, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub beside her.

"Th-that's the problem—Will, why should I expect you to be so good and selfless to me when I can't do the same for you?" A single tear slid down her cheek, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood to stop the others from following.

She dared to look at Will, watching as he carefully thought of how to respond, watching as he finally began to understand. "This is about a couple weeks ago, isn't it? When we, you know…" he trailed off, thinking about their failed attempt at intimacy.

Emma nodded slowly, beginning to fidget with the hem of her nightgown.

"Em, please don't feel bad about that. I'm not angry at you at all, and there's no need for you to feel pressured to do something you're not comfortable doing. I could care less about making sex a part of our relationship—all of that will fall into place in due time. For now, we just need to focus on the things we are comfortable and ready for."

"You know, I spent so many years thinking guys like you didn't exist. My, um, boyfriend from college broke up with me because I, um, wouldn't, um, wouldn't have sex with him…" she trailed off, unable to look at him.

"Oh, Em," Will soothed, pulling her into his arms. "I'm so sorry."

"But it was my fault too—Instead of talking about it with him, I brushed it off until he decided he couldn't wait for me anymore. Will, I'm scared—I'm scared to give myself so fully to someone. To me, it feels, um, it feels sort of like I'm losing control, becoming part of someone so fully, and that scares me."

Emma felt like a burden had been lifted from her back as she said the words. Will didn't speak for a moment. He just held her in his arms, and at that moment, it was enough.

"Thanks for telling me that, Emma," Will finally spoke, helping her up from the edge of the tub. "And don't you ever feel like those reasons are dumb; I just wish I would've understood them earlier. I can promise you, Em, that we're going to take things as slowly you need to."

Emma smiled—the first smile Will had seen in weeks. As the walked back to the bedroom, Emma's eyes began to droop. A lovely drowsiness came over her as she snuggled next to him.

"I'm sorry…for not telling you sooner," she told him as his fingers gently stroked her hair. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"It's okay, Em—that's a hard thing to tell someone, and I just glad you finally did. I want you to know that you can tell me anything."

She smiled, snuggling deeper into his arms. "I love you," she yawned.

And she was asleep before she could even hear him tell her he loved her too.