#but it is set in that favourite period of mine 3B-but-we-stayed-in-Storybrooke-and-got-to-have-character-progress

[ineffablecolors]

Do you take fic requests? I’ve requested this from a few different accounts and never saw it done: Killian runs out of the eyeliner he brought with him from the EF and he has to ask Emma where to get more

Nonnie, I’m gonna pretend I’m not offended that you didn’t come to me first :P (also I did way too much research into what eyeliner was like in the past for this)

. .

He tips the little golden box to the side and frowns.He can swear he is running out of kohl faster than when he was at sea. Which is nonsensical because now he does his eyes mostly out of habit and perhaps a touch of vanity - Killian is intimately acquainted with his flaws but he is equally skilled at accenuating his assets - not because he is actually exposed to the sun’s glare and staring at the horizon for hours on end.

And yet, as he dips the carved stylus inside, he has to reach much deeper than expected. True, his kohl box is not enchanted the way his flask is but he knows it was completely full upon their return from Neverland, when he took stock of all his provisions.

It is a mystery he puts out of his mind when he sees how high in the sky the sun is already and hurries to apply the powder without further distractions.

It is not that he has a set arangement to get to. Not precisely. It’s just that somehow - by stroke of habit or luck or design he dare not guess - for the last month, Emma has been taking her lunch on a bench by the marina every Wednesday and Friday.

The weekend is mostly reserved for her parents and Henry, he knows. Mondays she is much too busy and averse to company to eat anywhere but at her desk. Tuesdays and Thursdays are given to Granny’s. He tries not to think about the Tuesdays. She has a standing lunch date with her lad which Baelfire has taken to “crashing”, to borrow Emma’s own phrase, ever since he learnt about it.

But it’s no matter. It’s Friday and he sees the flash of red and gold long before he has reached her spot. He slows down and inserts a heavy dose of aimlessness into his step. If the way her mouth and cheek twitch restlessly is any indication, he is not doing a terribly good job of selling his nonchalance.

“Swan,” he nods to her and purposefully turns to face the water. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Must be quite the shock.”

He purses his lips and circles around the bait. After all, she sounds more amused than exasperated. Surely, if she didn’t want to be found, she would have at least changed her choice of seat by now.

“You are ruining my view.”

This time he bites.

“Come now, love. We both know I could never do anything but vastly enchance the view.”

She hums around another bite of her sandwich and it’s provoking but it is also distinctively not disagreement. He takes a seat beside her.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. They usually do. Unless she has something to “vent about” - really, Emma grumbles about the way he speaks but, in truth, she is enriching his vocabulary in fascinating ways - she and the prince having a busy week of petty crimes and dwarf-sized disputes, Bae-- Neal trying to rope her into another “family bonding activity”, Regina complaying about Neal’s bonding activities and monopolization of Henry’s time or her mother trying for some bonding of her own and ending up with her foot in her mouth again.

When he actually thinks about it, they are rarely silent for longer than the first few minutes. But today Emma seems relaxed, almost content. He tries not to associate it with the way she had stretched and groaned and smiled and rolled out of his bed mere hours ago. He just takes in the curve of her lips and her cheek and--

“Bloody hell!”

She turns to him, eyes wide at his sudden exclamation.

“What?”

He swipes his thumb over her cheek - less tenderly than he normaly would have, not even giving her time to lean into the caress - though he doesn’t fail to note that she seemed ready to do just that. His finger comes away with some of the miniscule black specks on her cheek.

“You’re the one who has been robbing me blind.”

She frowns, looks down and rolls her eyes.

“You’re so overdramatic. And it’s that ridiculous stick you use that will blind you one day.”

“I do have some hundreds years of practice, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Whatever.”

She rolls her eyes again but it doesn’t do anything to hide the slight blush that has risen in her cheeks.

“And why, pray tell, have you taken to using it, if it’s so inconvenient?”

She takes an overlarge bite of her sandwich and glares at him as she chews. Killian can’t remember the last time he was this amused by another person’s antics. He waits patiently and when she finally swallows her food, Emma’s eyes drops to the small bit of bench left between them, her nail digging into the soft wood.

“It’s better, alright? It’s inconvenient but it’s better and lasts longer and... well, I was gonna say I’ll get you some more but I have no clue where to find that shit.”

He laughs, his eyes alight and on her and he wants to kiss her so badly but this has only been happening for a few weeks so he restrains himself to brushing her hair over her shoulder and rubbing away the rest of the powder that has fallen on her cheek. This time he lingers and she definitely leans into it.

“I’d be willing to barter with you, Swan.”

“What like - I owe you a kiss for every time I use your guyliner?”

The easy way she says it makes him think she might not have minded that much if he’d kissed her. It also gives him the confidence to casually refuse her.

“No, that won’t do. You have to give me something that’s only for my benefit, love.”

Her eyes flash - some indignation and a lot of fire and definitely a touch of interest.

“I have seen the ones you have in your world, you know?”

“What?”

“Your sticks of kohl that you just upcap and use. The way you don’t ink your pens either.”

“Oh. Yeah, eyeliner pencils.”

“Ingenius name.”

She gives him an unimpressed look but her lips are curled up and there is no space between then on the bench anymore and then--

“I could take you shopping tomorrow.”

“I thought you have an engagement with your mother.”

“Yeah, well. She is one of those psychos who prefers shopping in the mornings,” she shrugs as if it’s not a big deal and it doesn’t fool him in the least. “So I’m sure I can convince her to pawn me off after lunch and go spend the afternoon with my dad doing things I’m not going to think about.”

“You can have an afternoon like that yourself, love.”

He waggles his eyebrows aand leans closer, his nose almost brushing hers.

“Hook?”

“Aye?”

Her lips are too close and he is much too distracted.

“It’s really not in your best interest to associate that with my parents, if you want it to keep happening.”

Before he can formulate a reply, her lips press against his - firm and warm and much too quick - and in the next second she jumps to her feet and starts walking backwards, her face alight with mischief.

“2 pm. Don’t put anything on before that.”

“Nothing at all?” he calls after her and watches her roll her black-rimmed eyes.