Title: When?
Pairing: Snow White/Prince Charming
Summary: Snow's decision to take the potion.
Notes: I own nothing.
Spoilers for episode 10, '7:15 A.M.'.
Waiting was hard.
Snow felt that her time with the dwarves ticked away so slowly, each second a wavering drop that took forever to slip from the surface it hung from. She had lost everything she cared for, and what did she had to prove for it? The dwarves were all she had now, and as nice as they were, nothing could replace the cavernous hole in her heart.
"I'll always find you," he had said, but how long would that last, after what she had said to him?
The dwarves were just in the other room, talking amongst each other, their voices adding to the gentle hum of nature that drifted in through the window. A bird landed on the windowsill and chirped at Snow, who ignored it. Eventually it left, and Snow was able to return to her thoughts.
It was too painful, but she owed it to Grumpy to at least think long and hard about what she was doing.
She could not have James. He was getting married, and his father had threatened his life should that not come to fruition. She couldn't let James die, so she could never see him again. A simple fact. If it weren't for the aching pain in her chest whenever she thought of him, it would be a simple act.
But it was too hard.
She didn't want to be this person, a young lady who wept at the thought of being separated from her lover. She was stronger than this. She had proven that fact continuously ever since the Queen had ordered her death, and she would be damned if she allowed herself to become so weak-willed now!
The potion sloshed in the vial as she picked it up, eyeing the concoction. It was impossible to make this decision rationally. It had to be made with her heart (her torn and throbbing heart), and that meant only one thing.
She uncorked the stopper, gently reclining against her bed.
"I love you," she whispered to the air, "my Prince Charming."
The horrible breaking sound her heart made at that sentence told her it was the right thing to do. She lifted the potion to the air, toasting the memories that were to disappear, and raised the glass to her lips.
Waiting to heal was hard.
Too hard.