A/N: Okay, I lied. This is the second part to the 'The Art In Heart' and I promise it concludes the story here, haha. Do read that story first before coming to this otherwise some parts in this story would make little sense. Hope you'll all enjoy!
There are periods and moments in life where the intuition is strong and trusting your gut feeling comes on instinct. You just go ahead with it – whatever you feel should be right, even if it is without conscious reason.
It could be under any circumstance or situation, like buying the lottery perhaps. Or skipping an important lecture or agreeing to the blind date your best friend set you up for. You could have a sixth sense for that man standing at the corner of the street only to find out a few days later he was the leader of an international drug ring.
Yes, these things do happen. Regina Mills knew, because she has this sixth sense for Emma Swan.
It baffled her more than it annoyed her. It wasn't as if Emma Swan was anything special to her. She was happily married to Robin, and Roland was more than adorable. However many a time she would find herself sitting idly in her study with a glass of cider – the very first place Emma Swan had lingered in on her first visit – and ponder, just like what she was doing right now.
Granted, Emma and her had passed the rough storm of their relationship. The previous animosity filled with threats and harsh glares were now a dusty section of a bookshelf in their history. She could even say they were friends now; moving on to a first name basis, sharing custody of Henry, having a casual chat whenever they bump into each other on the streets.
It was so very normal and yet, there was something about Emma she couldn't place.
It started a few months ago, when she started getting ill, having got poisoned by one of the many toxic shrubs back when they were in Neverland.
The next thing she knew, she was in Gold's shop with Henry and Emma over her, the looks of concern and relief both pairs of eyes had washing over her like a sandstorm. She knew that Emma was the one who poured the potion into her weak mouth, because who else could it be but the blonde being the Saviour that she had always been?
Regina could remember that very moment, how as soon as she opened her mouth and addressed the Saviour, that Emma's whole being froze and her hazel eyes had misted over. She hadn't thought much about it then, but right now it was just confusing.
The details about the time when she was sick were hazy, and that was already suspicious before she learnt from Henry that the potion had taken away some memories from the time the poison began its works.
"Are they important," she had asked when Henry broke the news to her about what Gold had warned about the potion. "The memories, I mean."
He had hesitated, and it was in that split second Regina realised how much her son had grown in terms of physicality; the way his face grew lean and his eyebrows grew thicker, the way his voice trembled a little when he spoke softly before getting deeper when he spoke back in his normal voice. It was strange how much Henry had grown in a matter of months, and it was even stranger how she had only now began to notice.
"No," he finally spoke. "They weren't important at all."
She had also noticed how Emma had begun to avoid her, making excuses that she was busy. Regina wasn't stupid, she knew. The blonde had even bailed her wedding, something she felt a punch in the gut for but covered it with smiles to congratulatory remarks and champagne. Emma seldom frequented Granny's anymore, which was strange because Regina knew just how much the blonde loved bear claws and hot cocoa and folding origami from the serviettes.
She didn't know how, but she just had a feeling and she knew.
The feeling returned too, whenever she herself stepped into Granny's. It was weird how one week after and a full recovery, she had stepped into Granny's with Henry for a little celebratory ice cream and her feet had automatically led the way for her.
Third booth by the window.
It was like a mantra in her head and she found herself stopping there, staring at the empty seat as if it could provide an explanation, but all it did was open its arms as if she had returned home. Henry had stared her, hope and shock in his gaze and she could only ask what.
"Do you… do you remember?" He had asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She had frowned. "Remember what?"
He slid into the booth easily and handed her the ice cream, already halfway through his own. The disappointment was evident in his eyes and he only shook his head, picking at the strawberry that had bathed itself with the sweet melted cream. There wasn't words left to say anymore, and she had only stared at him, her heart aching for a missing piece that she never knew existed.
Regina sighed and downed the rest of her cider. She had seen Emma just last week when Roland had requested for Granny's pancakes and they had decided to head over to the diner for a family breakfast. As usual, the blonde had been jumpy and short of words, so very different from the Emma Swan Regina once knew. She still kept the photo in her purse – the one she had found under the bedside drawer where dust balls partied and miscellaneous microorganisms got drunk – an intimate picture of her and Emma Swan.
She had been surprised at how happy they look – herself on Emma's lap and the width of their smiles – almost as if they were in love, a family. Of course she had asked Emma about it when they bumped into each other the previous week and Emma had been vague, but she had chosen not to pursue it.
She cannot deny looking at the picture from time to time, wondering just when it was taken and who were the people inside it then before they became who they were now.
Placing the empty glass on the coffee table in front of her, Regina spied an unfamiliar book lying at the corner of her study table. Making her way towards it, Regina picked the book up and smoothed its hard cover, her finger tracing over the thin gold title: Edgar Allen Poe.
She had borrowed it two weeks back from Mary Margaret, who used it as one of her teaching materials, and had forgotten about it, mayoral duties forcing its way into her priorities list. Who could blame her? Governing a magic town full of fairy tale characters is no easy task after all. Clutching the book, she made a beeline for the front door. What harm would it do to head over and drop it off? Robin and Roland were out for the day and since it was Emma's turn to have Henry this week, she could see her son for a little bit. She did miss him, after all. As she slammed the car door and revved the engine, Regina could not place that feeling of anticipation as she sped all the way to the Charmings' apartment.
[-]
Regina stepped on the pedal, speeding all the way back to Mifflin Street. It was not as if there was anything special, just that it had been a long day at work and the only person she was looking forward to feel around her skin was Emma.
With a push of her wrist, the front door swung open and she marched into the foyer, calling out, "Emma dear, I'm home."
Henry sat at the head of the dining table, doing homework. Upon hearing her words, he mock pouted, "So that's it, huh? You love Ma and you forget about me."
Regina laughed and went over to kiss her son. "Even if I forget the rest of the world, I would never forget you."
"So that's it, huh? You'd forget me too?"
Her lover's voice floated through the doorway of the kitchen and Regina felt her heart jump a little, the kind of effect Emma always had on her. Turning, she saw how the grinning blonde was donned in her apron, leaning against the door frame so casually it was kind of unfair how Emma could look this good in a stinking apron.
It took two steps before Regina found herself wrapped around Emma, the smell of sauce wafted through the air behind them and the feel of domesticity dancing in the air around them.
"Welcome home," Emma murmured as they pulled apart, still attached at the waist.
"I missed you," Regina spoke softly, smiling up at her.
"I missed you too," Emma replied before leaning in, Regina pressing her lips eagerly to hers.
They have kissed many times before after that first night when Emma came knocking on her door, reeking of alcohol and confessing like a shy teenager. But each and every kiss was just as electrifying as their first and Regina loved it; loved the way Emma's lips moved languidly against hers, loved the gentile nibble Emma always gave on her bottom lip, loved the rhythm their tongues moved together like a slow salsa: elegant yet determined.
She just loved kissing Emma Swan, period.
Oxygen demanded its presence felt and they finally pulled apart, faces mirroring huge smiles.
"How could I forget you, Emma Swan," Regina breathed. "You're like a tattoo that never fades."
Emma laughed, a flow of notes making its fast way to become Regina's sound. "But what if one day you do and then you stop loving me?"
It will never happen, Regina thought. Not likely, anyway. But like magic, anything can happen and everything can change in just a few seconds the way an artist destroys his work with just a wrong move of the brush.
"If a part of me stops loving you, then a part of me is dead."
[-]
Regina stood in front of the painted green door, staring at the darker shade of '3' hanging by its center. She didn't know what was it that she was feeling: nervousness, happiness? She could hear muffled voices inside and it sounded like it was from the television. Steeling herself, she raised a fist and knocked.
The door swished open not two seconds later and Regina's eyes traced Emma's surprised features. The smile on the blonde's face immediately disappeared when she saw her and Regina could not help but feel as though someone had punched her really hard in the stomach. Nevertheless, she swallowed and flashed a smile.
"Emma, is Mary Margaret here?"
As if breaking a spell, the blonde lightly recovered from her shell-shocked state and shook her head. "No, she and David brought Henry along for some grocery shopping."
"Oh," Regina replied and an awkward silence descended between the two before the brunette took a step forward.
"Well, may I come in then?"
Emma stepped back to let her in and she entered, surveying the quaint apartment. Not much has changed since the last time she had been here (which was after the Charmings had saved her from those two wretched bastards): the sheets were still flowery, the furniture still looked like they belonged to a dollhouse, and the brick wall still had some hideous graffiti, now added by some drawings she recognised as Henry's. The place screamed Mary Margaret and Regina wondered how Emma could even settle in this place before the curse at all.
Her eyes landed on some luggage by the foot of the stairs and her eyes widened with a sudden clench of her heart. Spinning around, Regina realised that Emma had been staring at her this whole time, but that was the least of her curiosities right now.
"Are you going somewhere?"
Emma nodded.
"Where?"
Emma shrugged casually, "I don't know, as long as it's anywhere but here."
"You're leaving?"
Her question came out desperate and accusing and Regina could swear she saw a flicker of emotion behind those hazel eyes which had grown stoic by whatever reason. Emma gave a sad smile.
"I guess."
"Why?"
The blonde shrugged again, making her way to the fridge and taking out two bottles of beer, handing one over to her. It was too early for Regina's liking to be drinking alcohol and she had never liked beer anyway, but her reflexes acted on their own accord and she accepted it, following Emma to sit by the table.
"There is nothing here for me anymore," Emma finally replied as she took a small sip from the bottle.
Regina stared at her, aghast. "What do you mean by nothing? You have Henry, you have your parents, and you have your job!"
Emma gave a condescending laugh. "My job means nothing to me, Regina. And my parents? Well, they understand. So does Henry."
There was a tone to Emma's voice that Regina had never heard before until recently, until she started paying attention: melancholy. Her mind whirled back to all the times she saw the blonde Sheriff patrolling the streets or buying frozen pizza at the grocery shop while she was with Robin. They had only been talking before she felt eyes on her and she looked up, straight into familiar hazel eyes piercing hers. There was a strange look to Emma's face then but she was too caught up in her conversation with Robin that she had only briefly acknowledged the blonde. Thinking back now, it hit her all too clearly. Emma's gaze through the rows of frozen food had been one of gloom and pure sorrow.
"Understand what?"
Regina watched as Emma finished her first bottle before returning to the fridge, this time taking out the entire pack and setting it down on the table. Emma glanced at her bottle before opening her own.
"You haven't touched your beer."
"And you haven't replied my question."
Emma gave a small laugh, and Regina was surprised to detect a note of mirth in it.
"You were always the stubborn one you know, Regina?"
Regina scoffed. "At least that's better than running away."
Emma laughed again, more genuinely this time and Regina found that she quite liked its sound.
"And feisty too."
The blonde took a large gulp from her second bottle and slammed it back down on the table, already half empty. Regina continued staring at the blonde, swallowing hard at this Emma Swan she couldn't recognise.
"Don't touch that," Regina sternly said when she saw how Emma's hand inched forward for a third one, pushing the beer pack away from the other woman. "Since when were you an alcoholic?"
Emma's cold glare pierced through her like a knife and the words bitten out next were even worst.
"Since when did you care?"
Regina stopped and Emma seized the chance to grab another bottle, opening it with the bottle opener sitting between them. Emma was right, she had never cared. Emma Swan was just another glance on the streets, the other mother of her son. She never remembered feeling this way for the blonde, so why now?
"How's Robin?"
The sudden change of topic caught her off guard and Regina blinked, confused for a moment.
"He-we're fine," she cleared her throat. "You know, the occasional fights about who does the laundry or who does the dishes, otherwise it's just married life."
Emma gave another smile, albeit seeming forced before turning to stare right at her and Regina felt breathless. But only for a moment.
"Do you love him?"
The question triggered another memory, one from three years ago between her front porch and Emma's red leather jacket on the second day when Emma first came to town. It had been about Henry then and she had answered immediately in her heart, the words only slipping off her tongue seconds later. Regina was confident about her answers regarding those she held dear – always had – but now, it felt complicated.
"He is my True Love," she replied, as if that was reason enough.
"You didn't answer the question."
"You haven't answered mine."
They held each other's gaze for a moment before Emma broke into a smile and even Regina herself did too. No matter what they did, Regina mused, there would always be a point in their conversation where they will reach familiar ground. The kind of sentences they would throw at each other during their first year would always find a way to resurface somehow, sans the hostility this time of course.
Regina took her first sip of the beer as Emma gulped hers, the two of them retreating back into silence.
"I don't drink in front of Henry, if that's what you're thinking," Emma suddenly spoke up.
Regina shook her head. "I wasn't thinking about that, although that is a huge relief."
"Then what're you thinking about?"
There were so many things running through her mind at once it was hard to pick the most important one, almost like her thoughts were a carnival and she couldn't pick which ride to go on first. There were so many things she wanted to know, but there was definitely one thing bugging her.
"Really Emma, why are you leaving?"
She eyed the blonde as Emma leaned closer, breath reeking of alcohol the same way her heart stank of unexplained desire.
"First tell me, Regina. Do you remember me?"
[-]
They lay down beside each other facing the dark ceiling, breaths still heavy and the musky scent of lovemaking still thick in the air. They lay down close enough to touch, the skin on their arms lightly tickling the other with every inhale, a comfortable silence settling around like an old lover.
As usual, it was Emma who broke the silence.
"Hey, do you remember that day when I invited you to the party at Granny's to celebrate the return of my mother and me?"
Regina smiled, turning on her side to face her. "Yes, why?"
"And then you just upped and left halfway and I chased you out of the diner? That was actually the first time I felt some sort of stirring for you, you know. But I was confused then, still caught up on whom to trust and your mother and all."
Regina kept silent for a while, recalling back. It had been a period of confusion and misunderstanding between the two of them, what with Cora in Storybrooke and Archie's death. Sometimes Regina found it hard to believe that she could be lying in the same bed as the Saviour, naked and sharing bodily fluids.
"Yes, we have come a long way."
She observed the way Emma's silhouette moved as the blonde shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, pressing their naked and sticky bodies flushed against the other.
"Do you also remember the time in Neverland when we first acknowledged Henry as 'our son'," Emma whispered, her breath hitting Regina's nose like a small breeze in that hot summer night. "That was the only comfort I seek in the midst of my worry for Henry."
Regina moved to entwine their fingers together and smiled, a simple gesture that was a reply itself.
"How about way back, when I rescued you from the fire?" Emma chuckled. "That was quite a 'thank you' I got from you."
"What are we, playing the memory game?" Regina gave a nervous laugh, unsure about where the blonde was heading.
They have been together for two and a half months now, and it meant the world to her. Emma meant the world to her. She has had her fair of share of heartbreaks and disappointments; call her insecure or simply scared, Regina did not want Emma to be the reason for her next.
"No, we're playing the I-can't-fucking-believe-we're-together-after-all-that-has-happened-between-us game," Emma smiled.
She broke into smile, something she always does without fail in the presence of this woman. In the darkness, Emma's eyes reflected the light spilling in from the window behind her, the only kind of sparkle she would allow herself to get lost in.
"What?" Emma murmured, noticing the way Regina stared at her.
Regina smiled wider. "Kiss me."
And steal her breath away Emma did.
[-]
"Are you daft? Of course I remember you! You're Emma Swan, Sheriff of Storybrooke," Regina huffed, not knowing where Emma was going with this.
"What else?"
There was something else. Regina could feel it drumming in the air around them, rattling her bones and gnawing at her skin. But she didn't know what; all she could state were the obvious.
"Y-you're… you're the other mother of my son."
Emma's eyes widened a little, and for a second Regina thought she had nailed it – whatever 'it' was. But then Emma only shook her head and sighed.
"I knew better than to hope."
She felt sickened to the core, an unbearable sadness washing over her at that very instant as Emma got up from her place to head over to the fridge again, this time placing the remainder of the unopened bottles back inside. Regina knew something had transpired between them during her period of sickness – the time when she had not been clear about the details. The sense of loss had been eating in her for weeks to come now, ever since she had swallowed the potion at Gold's.
Staring at the brick wall opposite, Regina suddenly spotted a drawing she had not noticed beforehand. Getting up, she stalked over for a closer look. It was in fact three separate drawings drawn close together – a scrawl off to the side of the wall – almost as if it didn't want to be seen.
When her eyes landed on them, what she saw made the world around her freeze, a breath inhaled so sharply it made her head spin.
They were three identical drawings, each obviously drawn by a different hand. But what shocked her was how she recognised one of them as her own, the other presumably Emma's, and her son's unmistakable penmanship at the bottom drawing. The stick figures smiled back at her and so did the words her eyes chose to focus on.
Mom, Ma & Me.
[-]
"A drawing contest!" Henry announced, beaming at his two mothers as the three sat around the wooden table on a boring Sunday afternoon. It was just one of their weekend periods with the Charmings and although Regina had gotten around to accepting it, that does not mean she did not miss the ambience of her home.
The Charmings' apartment was small and quaint, a direct contrast to her own home and while the lovebirds were out grocery shopping for tonight's menu, the three of them were left to literally nothing to do.
"I'm in," Emma agreed, jumping up. "But I don't think we have paper around here…"
Regina raised an eyebrow. "You don't keep paper in the house?"
Emma rolled her eyes playfully at Regina. "Oh c'mon, we don't even have a printer whatnot and the only paper related materials are my mother's romance novels."
"We can draw on the brick wall," Henry grinned at them. "I've always wanted to."
"Sure," Emma replied easily.
"And graffiti is legal, how?"
"It isn't," Emma chuckled, making her way from where Mary Margaret keeps her writing materials and placing the markers on the table. "But drawing on brick walls in the confines of your own apartment is."
She heaved a huge sigh and put her hands up. "I give up."
Emma smiled and leaned down to steal a kiss. "Admit it: you'd still do that than do nothing."
Regina made a sound of grumble, but the corners of her mouth still found a way to turn up. "What are we going to draw?"
"A family portrait," Henry immediately said, as if he had been planning this all along. "We draw us. Like this!"
He grabbed one of the yellow markers and hopped off his chair, scrambling to a part of the wall before moving the smooth tip over the red brick.
Emma stood behind Regina's chair, a hand latched onto the brunette's shoulders and squinted. "That's really tiny kiddo, I can't see a thing from here."
"That's because we gotta save space for better drawings next time!"
The smiles that broke on their faces were simultaneous and both Emma and Regina caught the other's eye.
"Your son, Regina."
"And yours too."
The way Emma's eyes softened as she beamed at her caused another skip of her heart, and Regina cannot help but cup the hand resting on her shoulders with her own. It felt surreal to be right here, with Emma and Henry – two people she loved deeply, and she could not help but feel that she and the blonde had come a long way.
"What're you guys waiting for? I'm going to win if you're just going to sit there," Henry urged them with a knowing smirk.
He stepped back to reveal an already finished drawing: three stick figures – one with short coloured hair, one with long curls and a third that was shorter than the rest. All three of them were holding stick hands and scrawled above each respective figure were the words: Mom, Ma & Me.
"Hell yeah I can draw better than that," Emma laughed and grabbed another marker from the table, standing behind Henry to draw her own above his.
Regina smiled fondly at the picture in front of her: Emma's golden hair sweeping her back, Henry's shorter frame beside his mother's, their laughter, the way Emma rested her hand on Henry's head, them. Standing up, she took a marker of her own and joined them to draw her own family portrait.
It might just be ink on rough texture in the end, but she knew that this meant more to her than it did to anyone.
Because she finally had a family.
[-]
"What are you doing?"
The harsh tone rang her eardrums and Regina jerked her fingers away from the drawings in shock, turning to see Emma standing three feet away from her.
"I-I…" Regina blinked at Emma's sudden spiteful tone, swallowing hard. "I'm admiring this drawing."
She watched as Emma shifted her eyes to stare at the small figures, the blonde's gaze hard and stoic. She cannot say for sure who the figures in the drawing were meant to be, and the look in Emma's eyes did not help her confusion at all.
"It's adorable," Regina broke the prolonged silence and Emma snapped her head up to look at her, as if realising the brunette had been there the whole time.
"It is," Emma quietly agreed, stepping forward and running a finger over the drawing. "Unfortunately, it is something of the past that can never return."
This madness needs to stop, she decided. It was crazy enough that everything happening between Emma and her ever since her wedding started becoming weird in a way she couldn't explain but Emma Swan needs to explain this: her own handwriting in the blonde's apartment, something she could not remember doing and was positively sure happened during the period of the time when she was sick.
"Enough," Regina started and she grabbed the blonde's wrist, forcing Emma to look at her. "What kinds of memories did I lose? And why do they all seem to involve you?"
She bore her eyes into familiar hazel ones, the obvious question hanging in the air and the all the times she had felt unexplained stirrings for the blonde in front of her.
"You said we were close," she was desperate now, clinging on to the one and only time she had shown Emma the picture and dared to ask. "But I don't understand. How close?"
She watched as Emma gave another slow sad smile, then a tiny laugh. She felt the wrist beneath her pry itself loose from her grasp and felt her heart pounding hard when the hand attached to that wrist quickly moved to hold hers, slipping the fingers in the spaces between hers with familiar ease.
Regina stared at their entwined fingers shocked and speechless as Emma took one step closer, bringing their faces mere inches apart. The magnetic pull between their bodies was intoxicating and with the way Emma's eyes was hypnotizing hers, Regina could not find a single muscle in her to move.
Emma was so close now that she could smell the blonde's breath, caressing her lips like the sway of a leaf by a gentle breeze. Emma brought her other hand to cup her cheek and Regina found herself subconsciously leaning into the touch, heart thundering within her ribcage like a warning of an impending storm. This feeling in her, it was strong and nerve wrecking but familiar at the same time.
It felt like home.
She held her breath as Emma leaned forward, her eyes transfixed on pink and inviting lips in front of her before it took a different route and she was enveloped with the smell of Emma's shampoo instead, listening to the words flowing out in whisper by her ear.
"This close."
Then Emma pulled away, stepping back and just like that, the spell was broken. She missed the sense of warmth and felt the loss immediately; releasing the breath she did not know she was holding. The silence thickened around them and Regina swallowed.
"I… I should go," she said, grabbing her handbag which was sitting on the table. "Thank you for drinks."
She didn't see the disappointment in the blonde's face as she made a beeline to the door. She didn't need to.
With a hasty goodbye to Emma, she rushed down the stairs not entirely sure the reason for her speed but just knowing that there was one place she needed to go right now. Consider it a poor excuse for having a gut feeling, but Regina knew better than to wait. She had procrastinated long enough.
She stepped on the accelerator and started down the streets towards the pawnbroker's shop, never noticing a tiny corner of Edgar Allen Poe peeking out from her handbag from its place on the passenger seat, silently egging her on.
[-]
The musty old shop still smelled the same, always have been. The last time Regina had stepped foot in this antique house was the very day when she was cured from the sickness, the very day it had all started.
"Regina," Gold came out from the back. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I need my memories back."
Gold raised an eyebrow. "I don't see why, seeing that you already have them."
Regina pursed her lips and walked up to the counter. "No. I need the memories that I have lost when I swallowed that cure. I… I need to know why I'm feeling the way I am."
He looked at her for a long moment and Regina could swear she saw a flicker of emotion akin to regret pass his features before he shook his head.
"I'm afraid I can't do that. You see," Gold explained, casually rearranging the contents on the counter. "I cannot undo the potion. Once it's swallowed and its effects displayed, it is permanent. Besides, I don't see why you should."
"Why?"
He looked up at her own fierce yet desperate expression. "It's better not to complicate things."
Regina let out a huff of exasperation. "What is there to complicate? I merely want some memories back to answer some personal questions. How complicated is that?"
Gold maintained his stoic features. "Sometimes what you don't know is doing something for the greater good. Tell me, do you love your husband?"
It was strange how the same question was asked by two different people but Regina could not find it in herself to care about other things.
"He is my True Love, and what has that got to do with anything?"
Gold lightly shook his head. "Being a True Love isn't equivalent to loving, Your Majesty. Titles and labels are only viewed at face value, never from the inside. Concentrate Regina. Look inside, and look deeply. Magic is emotion; feeling. Who do you see? What do you feel?"
She stared at him as he spoke, a rush of emotion hitting her in realisation as she the surge of warmth in her heart expanded and filled her right to her very fingertips. Grasping the place on her chest where her heart lay, Regina gasped a little at the sudden epiphany.
Rumple took no notice of her sudden change in demeanour and he only continued staring at her as if waiting for something else before speaking up again.
"So let me ask you again, do you love him?"
No, Regina heard her mind scream although she tried to picture Robin and Roland and all their times spent together as a family.
But all she could think of was the Sheriff of this town, the woman who had been adversary, the other mother of her son, a mere stranger.
And yet, the feelings swimming within her were undeniable and the comprehension of her current sensations hit her harder than any physical thing could.
She loves Emma Swan.
The reason why was still a clouded mist but Regina did not care. Whatever that happened before was another issue right now, because in that very split second of a moment, all she could think of and could feel was this thunderous wave of pure and genuine feeling for Emma Swan; a feeling that had somehow been locked away in a secluded part of her heart for the better of these few months.
Love.
"The cure potion you let Emma give me," Regina started. "What kinds of memories did it take away, exactly?"
"That of whom you love most."
And that was it. It came flashing to her like a neon sign.
Emma.
It was a snap of consciousness – as if someone had flicked on the main switch in her mind to finally let the current flow. The kind of realisation coupled with the decision that time just cannot be wasted.
As the pawnshop owner watched the erstwhile royal spin on her heels and speed to the door all the way to her car with renewed urgency, he finally allowed a modicum of his defences to come down and smiled.
[-]
When she was Mayor, Regina had been very particular and demanding of the speed and way people drove and parked their cars but even there came a day where the usually strict and uptight former Mayor found herself breaking her own rules.
Skidding to a halt and lopsidedly pulling up by the curb on the street of the Charmings' apartment, Regina paid no attention to the stares and gapes thrown her way as she ran past them and up to very apartment she had been to just half an hour ago.
"Emma!"
She could swear the frail wood beneath her knuckles would break any second at the speed and strength she was near pounding on the olive door but soon enough, the blonde opened it.
Emma stood confused before her, looking no different from the time Regina last saw her.
"Regina? What are yo-"
She didn't wait for her to finish, just stepped forward and brought her arms tightly around the blonde's neck, pulling her close.
"Regina? Seriously, what are you doi-"
"I remember," Regina murmured and she felt the blonde tense and freeze beneath her being, before the slow and sure movements of Emma's strong arms found home around her waist.
"Y-you… you do?" The way Emma's voice cracked with near relief broke her heart, and Regina imagined how many times the blonde's hopes had been falsely heightened only for it to be torn down again, all because she only realised it now.
"Not everything," Regina admitted, pulling back to look at the blonde but keeping their hips joined together. "But I remember how I feel."
Emma's hazel eyes swept through her own brown ones in unabashed emotion and Regina shuddered at the sheer intensity of it. How was it that she never noticed such passion in those very eyes across grocery aisles, street walks, polite nods over Henry's head, and Granny's diner before?
"That means… the memories that were erased of me…"
"They remain gone," Regina lowered her eyes. "Forever."
Part of her wished there was some magic – any magic – that could bring back those memories and let her retrace the path on how she fell in love with the Saviour. But the rational part of her knew there was no such thing in any of the realms to allow this to happen, which brought another ache to her chest altogether.
A single finger on her chin tilted her head back upwards and she was forced to meet Emma's eyes again, this time coupled with a gentle smile.
"That's okay," Emma murmured and the momentary silence between them bubbled with unspoken questions. "We can make new ones."
Suddenly remembering their conversation when she first stepped into the apartment that day, Regina grasped Emma's wrist, "Please, don't leave."
At this, Emma frowned. "Who said I was going to?"
Regina widened her eyes. "But this morning… you were packing and you said…"
"I know what I said," Emma chuckled and pulled the brunette tighter against her frame so that every inch of space between their bodies was eliminated. "But now my only reason to stay has come."
Regina smiled widely, her cheeks lightly tinted with red at their close proximity.
Emma bit her lip, "Can I… can I kiss you?"
A reply was not needed as Regina automatically brought a hand to cup Emma's cheek, heart overflowing with emotion and slowly leaned forward, lips tingling with anticipation.
Their lips touched – a mere graze at first – before Regina pressed firmly and deepened the kiss, finally allowing herself to sink into this. They kissed, slowly and sensually, exploring the way the curves of their bodies matched the other and that feeling in both of their chests as they rekindled in more ways than one.
A subtle ask for entrance by Emma and Regina gladly welcomed her, their tongues waltzing together to a melody only they can hear. Regina closed her eyes and absorbed Emma in. Everything that she had felt misplaced about – that something had been missing from her life – finally completed itself.
Emma was her missing piece, and she was Emma's.
When air finally drove a wedge between them, they pulled apart with heavy pants and mirrored grins, pressing their foreheads together.
"So," Emma breathed after a period of silence as their breaths mingled. "About Robin…"
"Baby steps, Emma," Regina murmured back. "Baby steps."
And as they stood cuddled together by the doorway of the apartment, Regina knew that not all could be resolved that quickly. She was still – legally – married and she still had to settle things between her and Robin.
But whatever it is, as long as she had Emma by her side, that was suffice enough for her not to worry about anything else. Because you see, when you love a person you never really stop loving them. They continue to live and breathe inside you, from the walls of your heart to the stream of your veins. Emma had been with her this whole time and it surpassed the mere notion of memory for in the end, feeling is the body's currency and try as she might, Regina could not turn a blind eye to it.
And whether Regina knew it or not, the place she occupied in Emma's heart had long already been framed and displayed as a masterpiece of fine art, the kind transported by museums by well-trained guards and placed in the grandest part of the museum. There were certainly mistakes yes – blotches and little inconsistencies here and there – but like every artist's personal magnum opus, Emma treasured and loved it without condition, and that was suffice enough for Emma not to tear it down.