This kind of wrote itself. The lyrics are from The Last Time by Taylor Swift featuring Gary Lightbody. I own nothing. It's also my first songfic, so sorry if it sucks. Emma's POV. Reviews are always appreciated.
-Emma
Find myself at your door, just like all those times before.
I'm not sure how I got there,
All roads, they lead me here.
You're not sure how you got here, or even why you came. And you know you've had a little too much to drink, so you hope you didn't drive. But scratch that. You know why you came. You know exactly why you came.
You needed to see her.
I imagine you are home,
In your room, all alone.
You're praying she's home, thinking that she would be at 12:16 in the morning, especially when the weather is this nasty. She doesn't like rain. She never liked rain.
Then you're afraid to knock on the door. And then you start thinking that you're a complete idiot because you have a key, and you would rather not stand outside in the rain waiting for somebody to notice you're here. But she doesn't want to see you. You're convinced of that. And the way the two of you left things, she shouldn't want to see you. She shouldn't want to see you at all. But you need to see her. You need it more than you need to breathe.
And you have a sudden burst of courage that causes you to knock, and soon enough you're wondering if it was loud enough a knock for her to hear in her bedroom. Then you decide not to knock again because you'd be a total jackass to knock again. But you're already a total jackass for even showing up.
And you open your eyes into mine,
And everything feels better.
The door opens in the slightest, and she's there, poking her head out a tiny bit so as to avoid the heavy rain. Even in the dark of a stormy night, you see that her face is reddened. She's been crying just like you. She catches sight of you, with your blond hair matted and your makeup in places on your face where your makeup shouldn't be.
"What are you doing here?" She asks tentatively. She doesn't sound angry. And you're thankful for that. "Is Henry okay?"
You nod, feeling the rain get heavier and heavier against your face. "He's sleeping, as well he should be." You try to make a joke to break the tension, but it really doesn't work, though you're not really sure what you were even getting at. Something humorous wasn't your best approach. She looks you up and down, and she opens the door.
"It's freezing, Emma, get in here." She's still quiet, and she won't make eye contact, but she uses your first name, so you'll consider that progress.
She turns away from you and wipes her eyes, sniffling once. She was just as much of a mess over this fight as you were, but all you can think about is the fact that you were the one who made her cry. And you feel like shit.
And right before your eyes, I'm breaking.
End fast, no reasons why,
Just you and me.
She just stares at you, standing soaking wet inside her door. You're not sure what you should say, and you feel like you're suffocating because she's so close to you—so damn close to you—and you just want to hold her in your arms, But what you're afraid of is if she'd even let you. You're afraid that if you reach for her, she'll duck away, just like you had during your fight. You know, when you could have stopped this by not acting like a stubborn jackass.
Yet here you are, dripping all over her floor in the middle of the night. And all you can do is look at her, and you just want to say you're sorry. Then you flash to all the things that were said—no, screamed—one thing in particular.
"I'm not worth loving. I'm not worth it at all." You were already out the door by the time the words left her lips, and from outside where you were crying too, you hear a stifled, tortured sob that you caused.
"Regina." You choke on her name, and you're crying again. She's so close to you, and you would give anything to be closer. Her dark eyes seem lighter than usual now that they're fixed on you, but that might just be the tears that you know are in her eyes. Her breath hitches when you say her name, and your heart freezes. A wave of adrenaline rushes through your veins, and her face is in your hands, and your lips are on hers. It's a desperate, hungry kiss, and you don't want to break it.
This is the last time I'm asking you this,
Put my name at the top of your list.
This is the last time I'm asking you why.
You break my heart in the blink of an eye.
She kisses you back. She doesn't pull away from you, your biggest fear, even bigger than your fear of spiders and your fear of heights. Your hands wander, and your right hand grips the strap of her black silk tank. Her hands run through your unruly wet hair, and you won't break the kiss. It's like it's the only thing keeping you alive, and breaking away from here would be the equivalent of someone reaching into your chest and ripping out your beating heart. You taste something salty, but you can't tell if it's her tears or yours.
This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong.
She breaks away for a second, almost like it was a question of whether or not this is what you want. In reality, you want nothing more in this world or in the next.
"I love you." Your lips are pressed to her ear as you whisper to her. There's a gentle, absent-minded kiss before you attack her lips again.
This is the last time I say it's been you all along.
And then you're upstairs. You're in her room, and she's still not pulling away. Your biggest fear hasn't come into fruition. She is yours, and you are hers.
This is the last time I let you in my door.
This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore.
You stop yourself again while you're laying on your side just to stare at her, your saving grace, the air you breathe.
"You are more than worth love, Regina." You say, holding her face in your hands, foreheads resting together as if the loss of contact would mean the end of your life. "I won't let you think that way ever again."
"I love you, Emma."
Thanks for reading.
-Emma.
