Emma held the sword in her hands.
Her grip was tight on the handle as she swung it experimentally. It cut through the air multiply times, slashes ringing through the air around the secluded garden. Why is this thing so goddamn heavy? Lowering the point to the ground, Emma sighed as the weight of the blade took its toll on her arms. Sword fighting was a whole lot more different than wielding a gun. It took patience, something that Emma severely lacked.
Her patience lately seemed to spread extra thin. Between breaking the curse, discovering a family she never had before and dealing with the presence of Cora in Storybrooke, Emma's life had begun to get quite hectic. It's how she found herself trying to learn how to sword fight. As far as priorities go, sword fighting was nowhere near the top ten but it provided her a somewhat stress-free environment. Most importantly, it gave her some alone time, which had pretty much been elusive in the last few months.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted the sword again.
"Bad form," scolded a voice right behind her. Emma swung around quickly and pointed the tip of her sword dangerously close to the newcomer's face. Hook. He grabbed Emma's wrist, twisting it in his grip, and flipped her around so that her back was pressed against him. Emma found herself struggling to breathe as his forearm pressed against her neck, the curve of his hook dangerously close. "You'd be dead right about now if this had been a real sword fight, darling."
He released her from his grip, a wicked smirk curving his lips.
"What are you doing here? Already tired of Ruby?" Emma asked, her voice laced with contempt. She had not really warmed up to the fact that he and Ruby had become quite close since Hook had started staying at Granny's.
"Oh, is that jealousy I detect?" Hook cooed, his eyes boring into hers. She scoffed and turned her head away from his. It was not jealousy, actually quite the opposite. Emma was glad that Hook had been keeping a low profile; even if it meant she had to witness him obnoxiously flirt with Ruby every morning. Emma knew he did it purposely to get a rise out of her and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it bothered her. It was no concern of hers who Hook flirted with, anyways. She just didn't want Ruby getting hurt; it was her duty as a friend, that's all. For someone who can spot a lie, you're terrible at telling one, teased a voice inside her head but Emma quickly brushed it off.
Instead of taking a step forward like Emma had anticipated, Hook turned around and let himself plop onto a nearby bench. "That woman is bloody gorgeous, true," he contemplated. "But she is not what I want."
Emma could feel the knots in her stomach turning like clockwork. This is why she didn't want Ruby to get hurt. Hook had made it very clear what he wanted since he stepped foot in Storybrooke. Emma may have been oblivious to a lot of things but his advances were far from being subtle. In fact, Henry had already picked up on it after only his second encounter with the pirate. Since then, her son had made a point to drop Hook's name into every other conversation. Damn kid really needs to mind his own business sometimes.
It wasn't that she didn't like Hook, no matter how hard Emma may have tried to hate the guy. He was infuriating beyond belief and had the inability to know what a personal bubble was, not like knowing that would stop him. He got under her skin like no other person ever could and probably ever would. He read her like a damn encyclopedia, while she spent hours trying to decipher his every word (but always came up frustratingly blank). He was the epitome of everything Emma had spent her entire life running from and yet, she found herself compelled to Hook and the challenge he presented within her. And that truly scared her.
Hook's mumbled voice brought her back to reality. "Sorry, w-what," Emma stuttered as she shook her head.
"Your grip," Hook emphasized with a slight grin, "is completely wrong." He got up from his spot on the bench and walked towards Emma. She stiffened as he examined her form thoroughly, slowly circling her before positioning himself right behind her. "Firstly, don't hold the sword with both your hands on the grip," Hook explained as he used his good hand to peel her left one from the handle of the sword. "The way you were holding it, you'd be better off just chucking it at the other person," he teased with a quirk of his brow.
"A sword is meant to be an extension of your arm." He took her sword-gripped hand and extended her arm forward, the tip of the sword jutting out. Hook let his own hand travel an excruciating slow path up her arm. Emma felt her breath hitch as his fingers lightly grazed the sides of her breasts, his own breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck. You like it, called out the voice again. You like the way he makes you feel, but Emma shrugged it off.
The sword felt lighter as she held it up once again. She let her arm guide the sword's motion, a triumphant swoosh sound floating in the air. Emma jumped slightly as she felt the cold metal of Hook's other hand ghost by the inch of skin just below her top. The tip of his hook snuck into the belt loop of her jeans and tugged her infinitely closer to him. "Better," he whispered, his mouth nearly pressed against her ear. Somehow, she felt Hook wasn't just talking about her sword fighting techniques.
Emma wiggled herself from his grip and paced away, frustrated at him and mostly, at herself. There was no way that Hook genuinely wanted to be with her and there was no way that she'd let herself be made a fool of. Again. Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, memories of an old life flashing through her mind.
"What's wrong, love?" questioned Hook, concern plastered on his face.
"Don't call me that," she bit back furiously, turning towards him. Emma tugged the ends of her shirt down, feeling despair creep into her body. "Is everything just a joke to you?" she yelled at him, unaware of the light drops falling onto her skin. "Am, I just a joke to you? A toy you'll eventually tire of?" she asked angrily, her tone dripping like acid. Emma saw the shift of emotions play out on his face as he stalked towards her and mentally prepared herself for a battle. A battle she'd been waiting for since the day he arrived in Storybrooke.
"If you were a joke, do you think I'd be here," his eyes burned alit with rage at her accusations. "That I'd be with you?!" Hook was practically seething as the rain started to pour. Good. "I've lived many lives, done many despicable things to get my revenge on Rumplestiltskin. I'm so close, I can practically taste it on my tongue, Emma," he exclaimed desperately. Hook took a step closer, slightly closing the gap between them. Emma heart felt constricted as his warmth gradually invaded her senses. "Yet, here I am," he said, voice softening. "With you."
"I-I can't do this, Hook," she muttered, finding herself fascinated with the puddle beside her foot. Her voice laced with defeat, Emma dropped the sword to the ground without thought. "I can't let myself-"
"Let yourself what?" he pleaded; placing his good hand on her hip, as the rain steadily grew stronger.
"I don't know, okay?!" she said, the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to pool over. Why are you fighting this, Emma? The voice practically screamed in her head now. "I can't do this with you right now," she said, turning away from him.
"Gods, you've got to be the most trying woman I'm ever met!" he screamed, grabbing her chin and forcing Emma to look at him, to look into his eyes. "Pick up your sword, darling," Hook ordered, each word filled with an underlying tension that had been building since their journey on top of the beanstalk. Try something new, darling. It's called trust.
"Wha-why?" she asked, confusion puddling her mind. Nonetheless, she bent down to pick the rain-soaked sword from the ground and held it flatly against her side. What Emma hadn't expected was Hook to draw his own sword out, the corner of his lips upturning. "You want us to fight?" she asked incredulously.
Hook considered her question and smirked knowingly. "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants," he started, pointing his sword towards Emma. "Deserves what he gets."
"So, let me get this straight. You want to fight me for me?" she questioned, skepticism addling her brain.
"Who said I was fighting for you? Maybe I'm fighting for the wolf girl," he teased with a wolfish grin, his eyes sparkling as he suddenly slashed his sword towards Emma.
She blocked his attack quickly and sent one of her own. Hook avoided it with ease and jabbed the sword feet away from her midsection. It continued on as such, a back and forth battle between the two of them. Attacking one another yet never with the intent to hurt the other. Just back and forth.
The sky grew gradually darker, storm clouds on the horizon, but their fight kept on. Emma could feel the ache in her arm rise again; her inexperience was a disadvantage that Hook didn't seem eager to capitalize on. The fact that he was going easy on her just reinforced the competitiveness within her. Hook raised an eyebrow as she came at him with an awakened sense of determination. There was no way that she was letting him win.
Their swords clanked as the rain fell onto them, steadily growing heavier. But both were too stubborn to give up the charade.
"You might as well stop fighting it, Swan!" exclaimed Hook, smirking as he stopped a particularly nasty blow to his side.
"Now why would I want to do that?" Emma answered, nostalgia blooming in her chest. Why does this feel so right?
"Because I'm going to win," he said with an air of confidence, using his hook to stop her oncoming attack. He wants you.
"I'm pretty sure that the last time we fought, it was you unconscious on your back," she retorted, smugness evident in her tone.
Hook's eyes shined with a familiar gleam and Emma swore that those knots in her stomach? Yeah, they were pretty much tangled to oblivion at this point.
Hook used his hook to pull her in closer, bending down to bring his face inches away from her own. "Ask nicely and I might just let you get me on my back again," he murmured, his eyes boring into hers. Everything she felt towards the pirate was reflected in those impossibly blue eyes: Frustration. Longing. Anger. Possibility. Understanding. Hope. Emma could feel her defenses weakening. Maybe…maybe he can win this time.
Time seemed to stand at a still point. The moment she felt Hook's grip on her loosen, Emma quickly decided to make her move. Taking advantage of his distracted state, she kicked him in the shin, watching him fall on his knees. She pressed the blade of her sword, none-to-gently, against his throat. Hook's eyes widened slightly as she bent down, whispering gently into his ear, "Dead."
Emma pulled back slightly and looked down at Hook, feeling her stomach churning at the sight. She saw something in his eyes that she never felt before: need. Hook suddenly grew rigid as she pressed the sword just a tad deeper into his skin. She wanted to see him squirm. It wouldn't hurt for him to have a little taste of his own medicine, she thought. "Ready to give up?" she asked, slightly out of breath, with an underlying tone in her voice. In her head, Emma wanted him to answer yes. She was used to it: people leaving her, breaking her heart - it was nothing new. Better for him to do it now before they got too deep into each other. Before feelings got involved.
But the other part of her, her heart, wanted something different.
Hook stood up slowly, letting the blade of her sword cut deeper into his throat, as his hand found its way to her neck. "Now why would I want to do that?" he said, traces of teasing gone from his voice. Emma found herself suddenly fascinated by the rain-soaked hair plastered across his forehead, falling into his eyes. "I could fight you forever, Emma," he whispered, so low that she could barely hear it. He idly slipped his fingers into her damp hair, playing with the blonde strands. She could feel the walls around her slip, just a bit, at his words. No lies detected, sweetie, mocked the voice at the back of her mind. How about you finally take that leap of faith, hmm?
Just once, she thought, looking up at Hook. Just to get him out of my system. Finding the courage within her, Emma threw the sword to the ground. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself up to his height and placed her lips lightly upon his. It was soft, sweet and completely unlike them. It left her aching for more.
Hook seemed to pick up on her frustration, bringing her in closer and simultaneously deepened the kiss. She sighed against his mouth. He kissed with a purpose, as if he were trying to convey a story between their lips. Speaking of passion, desire and a need for something more. It was all too tempting to get lost in him, drown in those blue eyes. It was hard not to just let go.
Emma pulled back slowly, feeling her chest clench at the loss of his warmth. 'Uh, I-I," she mumbled, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not used to someone wanting me, okay," she said. "It's been a foreign concept for most of my life and I just, I find it hard to trust people." The fact that he continued to lazily play with the tips of her hair gave her comfort. He was listening and that's all Emma wanted at this moment. "Then you come in and I want to trust you, even though I know I shouldn't. I've been burned too many times and you're you," she exclaimed, glancing up at him. "But I do. I do trust you, Hook," she admitted, with a heavy heart. "And it scares me."
Hook untangled his hand from her hair and ran it through his own instead. "Do you think this is easy for me?" he began, cupping her cheek and turning her face upwards. "You make me feel things I haven't felt in nearly three centuries and even then, Mil-," Emma watched him with bated breath, reading the hesitance in his eyes. "Milah was different. She was stubborn, much like you," Hook spoke fondly, surely remembering the woman whom he loved so dearly. "She came into my life like a wave, steadily and softly. Gave me the companionship that I had been craving at that time."
Emma was silent, listening to him like he had done with her. "But you," he whispered harshly. "You came in like a bloody hurricane." He yanked her closer, roughly crashing his mouth onto hers.
The control she had franticly been holding onto snapped. Emma let her fingers slip into his soaked hair, tugging him closer. Whereas their first kiss was sweet, this one was pure unabashed lust. It was desperate, hard and messy and Emma could feel herself shiver as the rain bore down hard on them. It felt so right.
She gasped as he nipped at her bottom lip, opening herself to his tantalizing tongue. Emma put her hands against his chest, pushing him forward until his knees hit the back of something. With a rough shove, Hook was on the bench, his eyes burning a trail up her body as she settled onto his lap. Emma shivered, no one had ever looked at her the way he did and it was exhilarating. He made her feel wanted and that was not something she was used to. She could definitely get used to it, though.
His hand found its way underneath the back of her shirt, pushing her body against his while letting his lips travel up the side of her neck. Emma whimpered lowly as he bit at a particularly sensitive spot below her ear, regretting the noise instantly as she felt his lips curve against her skin. He was totally going to look for all her soft spots and use them to his advantage. Damn pirate.
"I can get lost in you," he whispered into her ear, letting his hand travel up her back, his warmth racking the entirety of her body. "Will you let me?" Emma's stomach tightened at his words, letting them sink in. He was making it her choice, letting her decide whether to take it, whatever this was, further. She paused, cupping his face, letting herself really look at him. See what she was getting herself into.
There was something in his eyes that made Emma lose all her inhibitions, lose all her doubt.
"Okay," she answered, her voice faltering slightly. A small part of her was still scared of giving herself completely to someone else, especially someone like Hook. But she wanted to try with him and that didn't happen very often. Emma didn't fantasize them having a fairytale romance, nor did she think it'd be easy. He was a difficult person to like but so was she and that's what made them work. There were sure to be a few bumps along the way, there always was with them.
"Oh, and dear?" Hook called out, his eyes alit with mischief. He grabbed her ass with his hand suddenly and pushed her further into his lap, letting her feel his growing arousal. "That fight?" She moaned as he ground his hips lazily into hers, licking a path along her jaw. Emma closed her eyes, feeling every inch of him invading her senses. "I totally won."
Emma eyes snapped open and pulled back, giving him the dirtiest look she could possibly muster in her state but he ignored it, smiling against her neck. Life definitely wasn't going to get less hectic with Hook around.
But what's life without a little challenge?