Jefferson paced back and forth anxiously, busy mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. So far everything had gone to plan. (a plan that he had mulled over and willed himself to fulfill for months now)
Frankly, it had been far too easy to deceive the sheriff. Perhaps the lack of sleep she had received due to Mary Margaret's incarceration was effecting her judgment. Jefferson stopped pacing and returned his attention to the now unconscious house guest.
Her blonde hair had formed a veil of sunshine locks, hiding her face from view. (no doubt a result of her not-so-graceful descend to the couch) Jefferson moved forward in two long strides, kneeling down beside her and pushing the offending strands away. His touch lingered as his knuckles brushed lightly against her the curve of her cheekbone.
"Jesus Christ." he implored quietly. "What the hell am I doing?"
The question had certainly echoed in his head during the past few hours. After months of hiding in the shadows, watching the lost princess from afar, he finally had her. She was his.
"But she isn't yours." his mind argued. "Not here. Not without her memories."
Jefferson sighed as his withdrew his hand. There hadn't been a single spark of recognition in her eyes. Nothing was triggered upon seeing his face, no feelings of déjà vu appeared when he shook her small hand in his and gave her a name she already knew. Jefferson was aware that he had more than one would call a slightly fractured psyche, yet he still cringed when he thought of the damage the curse had afflicted on Emma's mind. False memory upon false memory. Fabled years of childhood abandonment and some less-than-decent foster homes all had made the once lighted hearted girl he knew into a bitter and broken woman. He bent down and pressed a famished kiss to her comatose lips.
He half expected for her eyes to flutter open; for her flash that beautiful smile of hers and look lovingly upon the noble soul that had awoke her. But that wasn't how their story went, and he was no knight in shining armor.
Jefferson rose as he gave Emma one last longing look. His face then morphed into a set of great determination.
"She will remember tonight." he decided. He would do whatever it took.
Jefferson had a plan, and he would get it to work.
Author Note: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I apologize for all the previous grammar errors (that's what I get for not proof reading my work) I looked through and corrected all the errors I could find. Hopefully I didn't miss any. Any-who Chapter 2 is currently in the works so make sure to read and review when it's up!