She comes in with soft steps under the dim blue light that colors Regina's room in the elusive minutes between night and dawn. Her layered, black clothing is out of sync with the warmth that creeps over the town at the end of spring and her unnaturally pale skin robs her face of contrast, the staleness of her expression furthered by the flat lighting that filters through the mansion's curtains.
She visits only at this awkward time, which mimics her presence in silence and stillness. Regina accepts it with stubborn coolness, carrying on her routine as though Emma Swan, or what is left of her, is part of the furniture.
They don't attempt to justify themselves because there is no non-committing explanation to the sheer comfort of being in the same space though Regina can't help but theorize through their weeks of indulging. She settles on addiction - a thirst for magic, each other's magic.
They have no intent to give still, they share. It flickers the lights and cracks mirrors, makes Regina's creams and perfumes hover over her dresser. Once, a light bulb imploded sending shattered glass to hide in between the fibers of her carpet and Henry woke up to the noise, creeping quietly into her room while rubbing his sleep addled eyes. Emma was gone before the knob was through turning.
There were a few mornings of waking up alone for Regina after that.
When that grim presence returns, it has abandoned pretense and Regina feels a different threat in the unnatural perfection of her stillness. Emma stands straight like a statue, not even shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Her eyes don't diverge from the picture of a 5-year-old Henry, frozen in a sweet smile, hanging on the opposite wall. She doesn't blink and, Regina thinks, doesn't breathe at times.
Hostility breaks their balance, again, despite any deliberate effort. The unwillingness Regina can't control dissatisfies the Dark Swan and eventually she acts.
Her stride is wide and she moves with grace Gold was never capable of achieving. She also doesn't share his sadistic smiles - there is no humor in the way anger clouds the green in her eyes. Regina watches their golden freckles fade when Emma comes close, cornering her against the wall.
"Emma?" Regina whispers softly, like a kiss.
It gives her pause - Emma's eyelids flutter, some of the softness returning for a swift moment before anger overpowers the green again.
"She's gone.," the Dark Swan says through gritted teeth that sharpen the angles of her jaw.
Abruptly she buries a hand in Regina's ribcage.
Air is knocked out of her lungs. Everything narrows to the feeling of cold fingers wrapped around her heart and to the black and dilated pupils of someone who used to be Emma Swan.
"Why didn't you save me?" Emma asks pleadingly, "Why didn't you kill me?" her voice is broken but still drenched in judgement, "You promised."
A tear builds on the corner of Emma's eye until it spills rolling solitary down her cheek. It doesn't match her sternness but its comfort to Regina. The Dark Swan mistakes her sorrow for pity though, piercing her nails shallowly into Regina's heart.
"You deserve to have me crush your heart to diamonds for what you let me become" She whispers intimately, angrily, breath brushing Regina's lips.
"And leave Henry without a mother?"
"I'm his mother."
"Emma was his mother."
The dark one's grip tightens and Regina stumbles forward.
"I'm not as patient as Rumplestiltskin was. I have no use for you" her voice is hoarse and her gaze drops to Regina's mouth before flickering back to brown eyes.
They're too close, in a long drought of each other, unsteady.
"You won't kill me," Regina says, bringing a hand to wrap around Emma's wrist "You've had your chances and I'm still here," she adds pulling her heart free of cold fingers, chest uncoiling with relief. "I'm not afraid."
Regina finds Emma's stare defiantly, watches freckled green fighting black for the mind they both inhabit and it sends a shiver running along her spine. She wonders if the Dark Swan's lips would be as cold as her hands or if they kept Emma's warmth.
"You could kiss me, and maybe this would be over," Emma challenges in a quiet voice, with desire poorly disguised as mockery, "Doesn't that break any curse?"
Regina leans in, close enough for their eyes to lose focus, for her to feel Emma's thundering heartbeat on her own chest "If you wanted to change," she whispers breathlessly, tilting her head, bringing her lips to barely brush against Emma's "It might've made a difference."
And so they crash.