~Emma's POV~
Emma spent her whole life running. Running away from foster homes, poor decisions, boring one-night stands and bad relationships. Chasing dreams, bail jumpers and the next train to the next new town. But if there was one method of escape she lived for, it was running on the beach.
Every morning before the beach patrons emerged and two hours before the tide, she soaked in the peaceful serenity of the atmosphere. She felt like a weightless cloud drifting alongside the ocean, the gentle breeze soft on her skin and the sand cool at her feet. Keeping a steady pace, the mist of the ocean spray cooled her face and the smell of the salty air engulfed her senses. She watched the waves roll in a rhythmic pattern, enjoying the sound of the water crashing along the sandy shore. It was like Emma's roommate, Ariel, told her the day she moved to the sleepy, southern town; jogging barefoot on the beach was quite the religious experience. And indeed it was.
Before Emma came to Storybrooke, South Carolina she used the pavement to jog. Watching the cars go by and listening to her IPod, trying to tune out the roaring sound of lawn mowers and noisy neighbors. After a bit of coaxing from her roommate, her mornings were instantly better when she started jogging by the Ocean. Shedding the stress of the world from her shoulders and throwing her cares to the wind was actually quite freeing. She had to walk for a month barefoot in the sand first to allow her ankles to strengthen and adjust to a more natural gait but after that, it was one of the best things she had ever tried.
When Ariel first told her about barefoot running on the beach, constantly droning on about it, Emma thought it sounded a bit insane and a little dangerous. What if there was glass in the sand or rocks or other jagged objects that she could cut her feet on? It turned out, Storybrooke had one of the cleanest beaches Emma had ever come across. And the sand was smooth as silk.
The colors of the sky were broken, reflecting off of the ripples of water as Emma took in the view of the sun rising over the horizon. It was quiet and peaceful and she was the only one there this early in the morning. (It was a pretty secluded beach anyway because it was near the outskirts of town.) She normally rose before dawn and showed up while the sand on the shore was hard enough to run on and almost like pavement with a little bit of cushion. The mornings when the sunrise came during that perfect time before the tide, were a blessing.
Emma thought about her plans for the day, her job and all of the other important things that eventually became steady in her life when she decided to settle in one spot for a change. She went from a bail bonds person to a deputy literally overnight before eventually being elected as Sheriff after the tragic death of the former one; she still wasn't sure how that happened, but she wouldn't take it for granted. Storybrooke had slowly started to feel like home and at least now she didn't have to leave town to catch criminals.
She could feel the energy sap from her body as she made her way, falling into a slightly slower pace to save her strength. Her heart was thumping in her chest as her feet landed softly into the moist sand, beads of sweat forming at her forehead. Even this early in the morning, the small southern town was still a bit warm and muggy in June.
Continuing her journey towards home, she gazed over the ocean, vaguely catching a glimpse of a dark figure in the water. Emma looked down at the Fitbit on her wrist, seeing that it was six o’clock in the morning. Of course it was. Because that was around the time the sun rose. So apparently there was someone who was crazier than her. The water wasn't freezing but it was still too cold to be taking a dip in the water at this hour.
Emma eventually caught a better view of the mysterious, moving figure in the ocean; dark hair and strong arms swimming parallel to the beach. There was quite a range of ocean between them, but as Emma gained more distance, she could see that it was a man who started emerging from the water and heading towards the beach. Soon she could make out the face of the swimmer. A very handsome face. Emma's eyes traveled down every inch he was exposing as he trudged towards the shore, ocean water cascading down his heavenly form.
Every step revealed more of his body; broad shoulders, damp hair matted to his toned chest, biceps bulging and glistening from the reflection of the sun as he lifted his hands, running them through his wet, inky black hair. As the waves crashed around him, a sheath of water dripped down his body, outlining the ripples of his abs as he walked, a thin happy trail led her curious eyes from the navel of his stomach to the treasure hidden behind a rather small pair of trunks.
Emma bit back a moan at the sight. The man was drop dead gorgeous. His toned legs were almost fully revealed as he swung his hand, splashing water in front of him before approaching the shore. He bent down and Emma's eyes followed his movements, realizing there was some clothes and a towel folded neatly in the sand. He grabbed the towel, drying his body, scrubbing the material through his chest hair before dressing.
He turned so his back was facing her and pulled on a pair of jean shorts, zipping and fitting the button through the loop, latching his belt buckle over the front. She was fixated on him the whole time and at some point he craned his head, most likely sensing the pair of eyes that were burned into his back, and he caught her staring at him. Before she could amend her brazenness, she caught a glimpse of his stunning blue eyes, getting lost in them before he took them away, looking ahead again.
He paused momentarily before bending down to grab his black shirt, giving her a nice view of his ass. The intense heat of the sun could not compare to how hot she became; and it wasn't because of the warm sun or the strenuous exercise she had engaged in. As he came back up, pulling the sleeves of his shirt over his arms, he looked at her again, a little longer this time. His eyes connected with hers, flashing her a boyish grin as he buttoned his shirt from the top to the bottom. Emma felt flushed, convinced that her cheeks were pink with blush as she reached for the thick strap of her tank top, clutching on to it and pulling it away from her skin as though it were suffocating her. She was certain he was drinking her in with hungry eyes before he stopped himself and reverted his gaze back to the ocean.
When he adjusted his collar and finally turned around to face her, there were four things Emma had not noticed before that moment - scratch that - five things. She had not realized that she had no longer been jogging, just standing there ten feet in front of him and watching him shamelessly. Her mouth was hung open. Eyes unable to blink. And despite having ran for five miles, her breathing had stopped. Oh and she also had not realized he was a priest.
The clerical collar gave him away and she had been too entranced to notice that he had even put it on. To say that she was highly disappointed at this revelation was an understatement. She quickly removed her hand from her tank top and shifted awkwardly, standing up straighter as though she would be chastised for her posture.
She had heard that there was a new priest in town but she was not a church-goer so she hadn't really cared enough to find out who he was. And it was a good thing, she rationalized. She couldn't even imagine showing up to mass every Sunday and having to stare at this man while he delivered the sermon from the pulpit, speaking words of praise. She would probably find herself worshiping the priest instead of God himself; she would certainly fall to her knees for him. Dear Lord, it's been far too long since she's been with a man.
Emma somehow managed to gather her wits and cursed the heavens above as she began doing stretches, tearing her eyes away to cover up the fact that she had not just stopped in her tracks to gaze at the man of God before her.
He collected his towel and started to walk towards her with a sparkle in his eyes as their gazes met again. Approaching, he gave her a friendly nod as the close proximity offered her a better view of his face. His chin and perfectly chiseled jaw were covered in scruff that her fingertips were itching to touch, and his crystal eyes were just as blue as the ocean behind him. She was guessing he was in his late twenties, around her age. It really should have been a sin to be a priest and look that good.
She bent her left knee back and reached behind her to grab her foot, stretching out her leg, trying her best to maintain balance with her other foot, despite the strong intensity of his stare.
“Morning mam.”
