A/N: This fic is a companion piece to my Scars series and falls somewhere between "Scars" and "Scratch". I would recommend at least reading "Scars" before reading this.
The light of the television screen flickered across Emma and Regina's skin, painting their cream colored flesh a washed out white. They sat in silence, the blonde positioned in the center of the couch, the brunette on the far right side. Regina flicked her gaze to the left, catching a glimpse of the younger woman beside her who seemed completely enthralled by the new episode of Chopped playing across their television.
Cocking her head to the side slightly, she studied the younger woman before her. Emma looked so content, seemingly disregarding the complexity of their relationship since Regina's revelation in the shower. It had been nearly a week and Regina had found herself relying on her oldest coping mechanism – pulling away, isolating herself. Despite her snide remarks and cold demeanor, Emma's love remained strong. It puzzled her. And as much as she wanted to hide, she felt her walls crumbling, felt her instinctual need for her a solitary life slipping.
For the first time in days, Regina found herself gazing lovingly toward Emma, craving the innocent yet intimate gestures she had grown so accustomed to. For days she had refused even the simplest of touches. Tonight, she craved them.
Emma's hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with little flyaways trickling over her neck and cheek. Regina's fingers twitched, aching to brush the wispy strands away and run her fingertips over the younger woman's smooth skin. She bowed her head and picked at her nails nervously for a moment before turning back to the blonde. Taking a slow breath through her nose, Regina reached out and brushed loose curls away from Emma's cheek, tucking them lovingly behind her ear.
Any fears Regina may have had that she no longer had the capability to love were immediately quelled when Emma turned to her and flashed a big, toothy smile. The brunette's chest filled with warmth and the sensation trickled all over her body. Their eyes locked in an intimate gaze and they stared at one another in silence. Sound blared through the television speakers but both women droned it out. Engrossed in each other, everything else seemed to slip away.
"Hi," Emma said softly, reaching across the sofa to take the older woman's hand in hers.
"Hi," Regina responded. She shifted her gaze down nervously, staring at their laced fingers.
They sat in silence for awhile with Emma smiling lovingly and Regina trying ever so hard to stay strong. The brunette chewed at her bottom lip and closed her eyes, forcing back the onslaught of hot tears that threatened to fall. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she had left unanswered. Emma deserved an explanation, deserved the truth; Emma deserved so much more than she could ever give her.
"Regina?"
The brunette turned her head. Emma said nothing; instead, she patted her own lap a few times before outstretching her right arm, gesturing toward the older woman.
Regina hesitated. Her body ached for the blonde's touch and comfort, but part of her – the damaged, broken, abused part – feared the result of giving in. Letting out a shaky breath, she sprawled out on the couch and rested her head gently in Emma's lap.
Months ago, if someone had told Regina that she would be laying with her head in Emma Swan's lap, nuzzling her cheek instinctively against a jean clad thigh, she would have laughed in their face. Tonight, however, she'd never felt so content. A myriad of emotions swirled in her head and, for once, she didn't feel ashamed of them, didn't try to stifle them.
Regina shivered as she felt Emma tangle her fingers in her hair and play with it soothingly. The gesture was so innocent, so honest and intimate. Emma wanted nothing in return from her; her love wasn't feigned, it wasn't a ploy. Everything she did was simply because she cared. She cared. For once in Regina's life, somebody cared.
The brunette let out a slow, deep breath before letting the proverbial dam break. Her chest heaved and her face contorted in pain. She clenched her eyes shut tight and opened her mouth to let out a silent sob. It didn't take long before Regina's quiet dribbling turned into long, loud cries. Her body shook and her heart ached.
Regina felt Emma shift above her, half expecting the blonde to awkwardly slip away. Instead, the younger woman stretched out on her back, her head against the armrest, and pulled the sobbing woman into an embrace. She curled one arm around Regina's side and rested her hand on the center of her back, rubbing soothing circles through the brunette's shirt.
They laid together for awhile, Regina's sobs eventually trailing off into soft whimpers. It seemed like hours before Emma finally spoke. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, bringing her free hand up to stroke tangled brown tresses.
Regina wanted nothing more than to talk about it. She wanted to tell Emma the truth about everything: about her past, about all the betrayal in her life, about her mother's endless abuse that lasted long into adulthood. She longed to 'talk about it'…but she lacked the strength to do so. "No," Regina whispered, turning her head to rest her cheek against the younger woman's chest.
"Ok."
Regina wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. They sat together for the rest of the evening with the brunette curled up securely in the younger woman's arms.
Regina knew they wouldn't speak of what happened come tomorrow and in that moment, secure in Emma's arms, she didn't care. Tomorrow she'd return to her cold, stoic self. Tomorrow, she would put on her guise as Madame Mayor and avoid as she always did. Tonight, however, she was simply Regina Mills, lost and broken in her Savior's arms.
