Chapter 1: A Little Too Late
Their lips were barely about to touch, just centimeters away from each other. Her eyes gazed down to his mouth, the mouth which was surrounded by a short beard. She flashed her eyes up when he stopped moving closer. His eyes began to go cloudy.
His knees stopped holding his weight and he fell, lighting grabbing the desk for a moment and collapsing onto the cold floor. Panic shot through her body like a rocket and she fell the the floor, grasping him as she tried to wake him up. It was too late.
She felt tears run down her cheeks and saw each one land on his leather coat. She held tight onto the ends of his jacket and she shook him, hoping that he'd just peak at her. She quickly felt for a pulse, but with no luck.
"No. No. No. This can't be happening." She said in between sobs. She began crying harder, tears welling up in her eyes. Her vision was blurry and her eyes were hot. The body that lay on the ground looked like a pile of clothing, just sitting their for observation.
She grabbed her phone off the desk, hoping that someone could help her. She quickly clicked on a number, not knowing who it was.
"Hello?" A female voice asked. It was Mary Margaret.
"Help..." she could barely muster the word. Hard tears fell from her cheeks and her sobs began to sound louder. "Help..." She said again.
"What's wrong?" Mary asked worried.
"Help..." She said again. "Police station..." She mustered the location and her phone dropped onto the ground next to him. She cried harder, letting loose her sudden feelings for the former chief. She could feel her lungs burning, gasping for air, but she didn't breath. Part of her wanted to go, but most of her wanted to stay.
She stared at his face, the one she had barely figured out that she'd fallen in love with. She stroked his face, tears dropping onto his cheek as she leaned over him. She pushed her fingers through his hair, something that she wanted to do since they had last kissed. On impulse, she collapsed beside him, laying her head on his shoulder and crying on it as if he were breathing. She desperately wanted his arm to move and wrap around her. She wanted his lips back on hers, where they belonged.
She couldn't believe his fate. It was horrible he had to die, let along die at such a young age. She sat up, hearing a car door shut loudly and stared at his face, wiping of the remaining tears not only only his face and jacket, but under her eyes as well. A single tear fell off her chin as the door swung open.
"Oh my God.." Mary Margaret said, rushing over to his side to check his pulse. It was the same as before. Gone. He was gone. Dead. Demolished. She sat there, still awestruck as Mary asked her questions. She tuned them out.
She stared at the lifeless body, thinking that it was suddenly all her fault. It was. She didn't save him.
She got up, ignoring Mary's comments and concerns not only for her, but for the body and left. She ran out the door, her tears falling down her face which seemed to follow her everywhere.
This wasn't like her. She had never had feelings like this. She thought she never would. She sobbed out loud as she ran down an empty alley and collapsed onto the hard pavement. She curled up into a ball and cried, feeling her tears soak into her dark jeans.
She had been in love with him. She was in love with him. She calmed down, silent tears running down her face. She lost the person she loved.
She loved him. She loved Graham. Emma Swan loved Sheriff Graham, and she had realized that a little too late.