She chuckled softly as the waiter began whispering apologies into her ear when her hip caught the corner of a chair, she whispered back a kind reply of "don't worry about it" and patted his forearm with the hand draped over it before allowing him to keep leading her forward. It was so strange having one of her senses taken from her but, with the smells around her, the soft music playing and the safe guidance of helpers with night-vision glasses (something Regina had scoffed at when Mary Margaret had first told her about it, making her wonder just what kind of an event this was and intriguing her all the more) looking after her and the other guests, she couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but a nervous excitement for the meal ahead.
She'd never heard of these 'dating in the dark' events before, had never considered blind dating never mind this but when her friend had told her of the evening, had encouraged her to 'get out there' and reminded her of just how long she had been single - longer than she'd even realised - Regina had decided that for once she was going to be spontaneous even though she would be going with the belief that nothing was going to come of it, at least she could say she had tried.
She could hear hushed whispers coming from others who had come along, all asked to quieten their voices to keep the element of surprise and the ambience of the night ahead. Usually, according to her research, people were seated 6 or 8 to a table in order to fully converse and get as much as was possible out of the night but tonight they were to be seated 2 to a table and were literally left to the luck of the draw. One person would be seated first depending on who'd applied to take part in the event before the other and then, going by their gender preference, their partner would be brought to the table. They'd be left to speak and grow acquainted with one another first before the first course would be served.
"Here we are miss," the waiter whispered, two warm hands taking hers gently and placing them upon the back of the chair, he remained beside her as she gathered her bearings and pulled it out to ensure she wasn't going to misstep or miss the damn thing completely and fall on her arse. Her hands traced its outline, as she stepped slowly around it and ran her hands down its arms before finding the actual seat, lowering herself when she was sure it was directly beneath her. "If you'll allow me to move you a little closer?" the voice requested, shuffling the chair forward slowly when she nodded and lifted herself up slightly, moving forward with it until she felt her knees move beneath the table cloth.
"Thank you," she whispered, smiling at the reply of "you're welcome" and finding herself with absolutely no clue as to what to do with herself now. The meal was pre-paid for with cell phones and bags taken at the door and stored away in temporary lockers for the evening so as to take away all distractions meaning she was left to literally twiddle her thumbs.
Thankfully it wasn't too long until she heard the shuffle of feet growing louder, a man's chuckle rumbling quietly as the chair opposite hers scraped across the floor abruptly causing her to jump a little, it truly was strange to have her eyes open yet see nothing, she couldn't help but laugh at his whispered apology to her. "Terribly sorry m'lady."
It seemed he too was being helped into his seat as she listened to the sound of the chair scraping at the floor once more but in intervals as he was moved closer to the table, his own whispered exchange of thanks causing her to smile with the knowledge that he was polite before the waiter took his leave, telling them that the first course would be served within the next ten minutes.
"So..." her mystery date breathed on a laugh, his voice a little louder now that they had been seated and the element of surprise taken with his fumbling entrance. She wouldn't admit that her own was quite the same.
"So..." she laughed back though she felt none of the awkwardness she'd believed she would, "you're British?"
"That I am," he gave back, amusement lacing his tone, he seemed rather pleasant, "is there a pretty face to go with those fast deduction skills?"
So he likes to banter, hmm. "Would it matter if there weren't?" she shot back, her eyebrow automatically quirking even though he couldn't see it. Her hand had come to rest upon the table, finger scratching at the material and finding it to be lace if the delicate pattern was anything to go by.
He chuckled in response, he didn't seem to be too far from her with the volume of his voice despite his hushed tones but, she supposed, that was probably the point, allow them the space to feel comfortable yet ensure they wouldn't have to shout to be heard. "Of course not," he replied and though she couldn't see his face, she could hear his conviction, "I have to say though, this is certainly different."
"You're not wrong there," she agreed easily, crossing one leg over the other and jumping a little when it brushed against his beneath the table, "oh, I'm sorry" she gasped as she flushed red, infinitely grateful for the lack of sight in that moment as he only laughed in response before muttering a low "don't worry about it." that had her shivering a little despite the warmth of the room.
Another little quirk to the night had the waiters carrying delicate little bells in their pockets, a small sound so as not to scare them and to warn all to lean back from the table enough to allow dishes and drinks to be placed down without injury. It was too early for their starters to be ready, surely they wouldn't be serving a bread basket? Regina wasn't fond of a dry slice and she wasn't too confident to be wielding a knife in the dark in attempts to butter the thing. To her relief however the waiter identified it as a pitcher of water, telling them that he would pour each a glass and take their hands in order to help them locate and familiarise themselves with it's position upon the table and that, should they need a refill, they need only ask.
Both gave their thanks as he took his leave, their fingers sliding against the cool glass before her companion broke the silence. "Did you look?" he asked with laughter lacing his tone and though he couldn't see it, Regina's brow still furrowed in confusion before she was asking what he meant. "When the bell rang, did you look?"
Her laughter rang out melodically as her chest shook with the sound, glad to hear her date joining in with no mocking in his tone. "Not at all," she gave back coyly, the sarcasm in her voice completely evident as her laughter continued. "Did you?"
He scoffed then, the sound increasing her amusement as he gave back an indignant "of course not! What kind of fool do you take me for?" that had his own voice shaking with a chuckle to show he was joking.
"Well there we go then," she replied warmly finding that she was enjoying this more than she had first thought and still with only the beginnings of their conversation. It was quite astounding to one such as her, one as guarded as she had always been. She supposed, in a way, that the darkness helped, the fact that her expressions were hidden, the eyes that had always given away the feelings she didn't want revealed kept secret in the shadows and the scrutiny she didn't want to be put under easing off the pressure but she found, strangely, that it seemed to be more than just the animosity the darkness brought. He put her at ease with both his charm, the soft honeyed tones of his voice and that accent. In all honesty she doubted him to be the type that was judgemental, despite his earlier comment about a 'pretty face' he just didn't seem to have that sort of arrogance that came with those she had come across over the last few years, pompous idiots wanting of some kind of trinket to hang off of their arms and call a wife, that was just not her.
"Do you have a name, lovely?" he asked with no expectations, the endearment seemingly natural coming from him and she found she quite felt what he called her, warm and smiling, completely at ease though she sat with a stranger, it was lovely.
"Regina," she gave back after taking a quick sip of her water, using her other hand to feel for the edge of the table, ensuring she wasn't going to end up with a sodden dress and a need to leave, she didn't want to leave...at least not just yet.
"Regina" he repeated quietly, almost as though tasting the word upon his tongue, "Regina," and she could hear his smile then, the way he rolled it around his mouth, the name sounding completely delicious with his accent. "It's beautifu."
She laughed shyly then, ducking her head to hide a blush he couldn't see. "Thank you," she finally replied, looking over to where she assumed him to be, where his voice was coming from. Her finger tapped a delicate rhythm against the glass holding her water as she disclosed "I never much liked it myself."
She can almost hear the frown on his face, though it sounds ridiculous but without her sight everything seems that much more...well more. "Why ever not?" he asked with complete surprise colouring his words and she could swear she heard him shifting, the table moving just a tad telling her that he'd perhaps leaned further forward, his following apology indicating he'd misjudged the distance and knocked against it.
Regina merely laughed lightly in response, she'd had the foresight to remain close to the table when the waiter had helped her find her glass. "I don't know," and she was being completely sincere, "I think it stemmed from my childhood if I'm honest, there's something with kids and not wanting to say more than one syllable if they can help it."
When he chuckled in response, she couldn't help but feel he laughed from more experience than just schoolyard days but with his voice sounding once more she pushed it to the back of her mind, perhaps something to ask about later. She'd most likely have to disclose that she had a son of her own if this continued as it did, it wouldn't do for her to allow a little hope just to have it dashed when he ran from the building with the mention of a child, something about him though told her that he most likely wouldn't. "Let me guess," he began with a smile still evident in his voice, one that had her own lips quirking up at the enjoyment she mirrored, "'Gina?"
"That's the one," she sighed with feigned frustration though her tone remained light as she continued, "I hated it with an absolute passion!"
His chuckle was wholehearted before he grew quiet for a moment, thinking it seemed. Her guess was proved correct when he finally spoke, "if I remember correctly, I quite fancied a singer in my youth with that name..." her head was shaking even as her smile grew wider, her cheeks heating with yet another blush as he tried to recall, "ah! Gina G, that was it! She was quite something. A British pop sensation with oh, maybe one song to her name."
"Oh well," Regina laughed in mock offense, "it seems I'm in good company."
"You have a song?" he teased on, the table shifting a little more towards her as did he, she found herself wondering if his hand lay somewhere just beyond the darkness before her, their fingers just out of reach of one another. "May I hear it?"
Not one to give up a challenge, Regina gave back smoothly, "only my shower walls have to endure that horror."
He chuckled with her at that and she found herself glad he didn't take the more lecherous response, instead choosing flattery, the utter charmer. "I'm sure if your singing voice is anything close to the loveliness of your speaking voice then your shower walls are honoured to hear such a thing."
Her lips part softly at that, rendered completely speechless by him and blushing most profusely for definite. He liked her voice...she'd had comments since her youth about her low tones, had always felt a little self-conscious about it but with his praise, she couldn't help but thank whatever hormones had brought it upon her in her youth. She was saved at having to make any kind of witty retort however when the gentle bell rang again signalling their starters were here.
The food was absolutely divine and though Regina still had no idea what it was she'd been served - she used to scoff at her television on the nights she'd indulge in a little Masterchef USA and contestants would mistake chicken for things as ridiculously different in taste as mushrooms, now she understands - she couldn't help but practically groan at the lingering sensations on her tongue.
Their conversation had also continued flowing throughout the event, subjects coming easily to both as they continued to enjoy one another's company as much as they did the food, most likely even more. Both would have found themselves quite content to have forgone the meal and simply continued talking, bantering and most definitely flirting.
Regina had learned that her date's name was Robin, 'yes, just like Robin Hood.' he'd laughed when she'd asked, telling her that if she still thought she'd had it bad with her name in school, she had nothing on him. She relented with a laugh and asked him to continue on, to tell her a little more about himself. He'd told her of his childhood in England, the quaint little farm his parents owned in the South of England, a county called Devon if she remembered correctly. He spoke of his days in school and nights returning home to help care for the animals they had, early mornings collecting eggs from their chickens, Saturday afternoons helping his father milk the cows, shear the sheep.
She'd asked why he had moved himself over to America if he'd loved his life on the farm so much after he'd told her of his plans to someday take over the place, allowing his parents a peaceful retirement whilst he kept the results of their lifetime of hard work running successfully.
"Why do any of us do stupid things?" he'd posited and, though her gut churned strangely at the thought of someone else, she'd remained quiet in invitation for him to answer his own question though she had a feeling he knew she knew that very same answer. "For love."
She hadn't asked about the woman he'd moved here with, not wanting to impose or just not wanting to know about another, a possible ex-wife who could be lurking should they choose to continue this into something more than just a date in the dark, she wasn't completely sure but when he'd spoken of his late wife, Marian, the fondness in his voice tinged with a little sadness, she couldn't help but feel for the man.
"And though I miss my folks, miss living back in England and on that farm," he spoke quietly, glad for the warm palm that had managed to find his hand in the darkness, giving a little squeeze in return to the one she gave him, "I can't regret moving here, I can't regret having my heartbroken when my Marian died because she gave me the greatest gift of all."
"A child," she breathed in response, finishing his sentence for him with complete understanding, a knowing that he seemed to identify as his grip tightened a little on her hand.
"Are you a mother Regina?"
She'd told him of her own heartache, her own love, her Daniel who'd died 6 years previously, leaving her with the absolute love of her life, her Henry who she'd named after her late father. Never had she spoken so openly about her past with someone she'd only known for the previous 60 minutes but then, he'd opened up to her and though she didn't feel as though she owed him anything, she found she wanted to tell him, she wanted to share with him.
They'd just returned into safer territory, moving back into the humour and banter she found she could call familiar territory, when they heard the small bell again, both most definitely confused as their dessert had been moved away only 10 minutes previously. Their waiter's kind voice sounded from somewhere to Regina's right, butterflies taking flight in her stomach when Robin's thumb began rubbing slowly over the back of her hand as they were told that there was an optional end to the evening, a room setup and ready for them to use if they'd like to linger a little longer. The night was split into time slots, others soon to arrive for their dates though the restaurant understood those who wanted the experience to last a little longer.
They were told that there would be music playing and most found an after-dinner dance to be quite the climactic end to a wonderful evening.
It was after he'd walked away, allowing them the time to discuss and make a decision before returning that Robin spoke up after a few long seconds of silence. "What do you say m'lady?" he asked with a confidence Regina most definitely did not have, not with the prospect of being so close to a man she'd already felt inexplicably drawn to even with a table separating them but to be close to him, to be held by him as they danced against one another, darkness or not, she wasn't sure how to feel about that..."may I have this dance?"
Her heart fluttered as their helper for the night, their guide, led them into another dark room, their own private space. He'd told them, having both place a hand upon one of his shoulders and asking them to trust him before walking on, that since the numbers for each event night were quite small, contained for each sitting, it was possible to ensure each had a private room they were able to go to in. Robin had jokingly asked if any couple had ever gotten a little too carried away during their time in the rooms and the waiter had only chuckled in response, telling him that they were lucky enough to not have. He'd received a swift - and accidental - smack to his upper arm and had only laughed a response of "not to worry miss" when Regina had apologised profusely, telling him it was meant for the idiot beside him who she'd heard a mutter of"until tonight" in reply to the helper's earlier comment.
She'd fought her own smile at the sound of Robin's failure in stifling his own chuckle at her, thankful for the remaining darkness as they drew closer to their room.
There had been music playing when they'd entered just as they'd been told, soft, slow and utterly romantic melodies that had her nerves creeping along her skin instantly. The waiter had told them that they could leave at any time should they need to with just a quick shout of his name. "Will" he'd told them, giving both arms a gentle squeeze in reply to their returned hello's whilst placing them before one another.
"I'll be right outside the door should you need me and I do hope you enjoy."
All rational thought had left Regina's mind with the heat she could feel from the body that had remained a table away from her for the majority of the night yet was just within arm's reach, probably closer for safety purposes. Her head was bowed low as though she were looking towards the ground, her eyes closed as she could finally smell, with the absence of food and any others, the cologne Robin wore. Woodsy, fresh and absolutely intoxicating.
She jumped at the feel of fingertips upon the bare skin of the inside of her upper arm, just above the crease of her elbow. "I'm terribly sorry, Regina," Robin spoke softly, a little amusement paired with something else in his voice, something he gave voice to just a second later, "it's just, I've had such a lovely time with you tonight, talking with you, dining with you that...I don't know, it just didn't feel like it was..."
"Real," she breathed back, completely aware of how he was feeling for she felt the same now that they were just inches away from each other, so close. "It doesn't feel real...it's been so long since I've felt in any way like this," she began. her mind unable to stop her mouth from moving, "and I know I probably sound like a prize idiot, I wouldn't blame you for shouting Will to come and free you but...you're just different from any man I think I've ever met, Robin."
"I hope that is a good thing, m'lady," he laughed lightly though she could feel the nervousness in his voice, the question that lay within just as she felt the air between them move as he stepped forward the tiniest of inches, enough for warm fingers to brush lightly against hers, hanging just in front of her and remaining touching the barest of amounts before she was swinging her own forward gently, enough to hook her middle finger around that she assumed to be his. In all honesty, it could have been his index finger, his ring finger or his pinkie finger for all she cared, the contact was electric and, with the smallest of gasps she heard from him, he seemed to feel it too.
"It most definitely is."
She shivered involuntarily when, for the quickest of moments, he squeezed the finger still hooked around his before he was untangling them, moving the backs of his fingers up and over the ridge of her hand, trailing short nails so gently up over her wrists, her pulse thundering beneath the delicate flesh when those tender hands turned over, fingertips pushing a little harder to feel her, to pull her ever so slightly closer. She looked up out of instinct, the direction from which his voice came telling her he was at least a little taller than her.
She smiled softly when, after trailing so slowly up the insides of her arms, both bent as she moved her hands to grip gently at his elbows, to encourage his exploration, his fingers slipped over the capped shoulders of her burgundy dress before finding the feathered ends of her hair. She'd allowed it to grow a little longer in the past few months, wanting a little change in her life for no other reason than nostalgia. When she was a child, a teen, it fell just past her breasts and would flow elegantly in the wind when she would ride. Riding reminded her of her dear departed father and so, in correlation, did the length of her hair. If the way his fingers twisted at the curled strands, or the way he moved them further up to allow the silken locks to fall in between his fingers was anything to go by, he seemed to be enjoying her decision.
Regina took his momentary distraction to do a little exploring of her own. With slow movements, so as not to startle nor jar Robin, her own hands trailed over the soft material of his suit jacket, glad to find he'd made the same effort as she, before sliding over broad shoulders, feeling a lick of heat low in her stomach at the feel of the muscles moving within as he continued playing gently with her hair, listening to the soft laughter breathed from his nose, the hot breath barely hitting her face with his closeness as she replied with her own before her hands were continuing upwards.
It was when her fingertips had just barely grazed the skin of his neck, finding stubble the closer she moved to his jaw, that she found the arms she had followed to be more of a hindrance than a help and so let go for just a moment to weave her own through the middle of his, glad when he opened his own out without losing contact and allowing her to further explore, to gasp softly at the feel of his hair, the scratching of his stubble against her fingers. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of sight, the closeness of him or just him that had her enjoying the feeling so much, she'd never really seen the appeal herself of facial hair but in that moment, with the imagined sensations of it scratching against the skin of her neck as he pressed kisses there, she couldn't help but understand.
She hadn't registered his hands leaving her hair until they pressed so gently against the soft skin of her neck, palms curving around either side, thumbs falling to rest over her practically racing pulse for just a moment before moving up to cup her jaw.
Both were in the same position now, having explored equal amounts of the other without revealing too much until now. She hesitated, unsure of whether or not to continue, to ruin the image of him that she'd created in her mind, a face not quite clear but most definitely handsome, a wry smile that matched the charming words that seemed to flow so freely from his mouth, soft crinkles around smiling eyes that told of his joyful heart. What if he wasn't as she had pictured? What if he was more? It was only when she felt his head turning into her palm, a tender kiss pressed to the inside before stubble was once more moving across her skin that she realised he was giving her permission and perhaps asking for some of his own. She gave it, in the smallest of nods that he felt with the position of his hands.
He moved slowly, so slowly as he felt the face before him. She couldn't help the crinkling of her brow, the anticipation seeping through her features in hopes that she was satisfactory, years of her mother's scolding words, disappointment brimming to the surface as he moved over her.
Robin traced the outside of her face first. Palms moving over cheeks that had once been so chubby that her father had laughed and told her he couldn't help but pinch them whenever he saw them were now more befitting of her age, high cheekbones that he traced with tender fingers before he was moving up and onto the brow still furrowed in waiting. Her eyes closed when his fingers found the indent between her brows that the expression brought, lingering there for a moment before his soft lips had found a place there, easing her back into relaxation with a gentle press that she gasped at. He pulled back only for a moment when she felt something else against her forehead, his own.
Her thumbs moved over his stubbled jaw as he remained there for a moment longer, breathing her in it seemed before he was moving only inches away. From what she could tell, with fingers splaying across her cheeks once more as he held her face, his thumbs were trailing a path down the slope of her nose, an honest to god giggle escaping her lips when a finger came to join a thumb and squeeze gently at the end, her forehead falling against his quite affectionately when he laughed in return, releasing a tension that came back tenfold when his breathing seemed to hitch, one final place to explore, her lips.
They were still for a long moment, both aware of what each wanted but neither moving. "Am I crazy to be feeling like this?" the heat of his breath puffed against lips parted gently as her head tilted back as though she could see him, her hands moving to grip at his wrists as he remained before her, holding her, waiting for her. Her heart was pounding an unrelenting rhythm as her lungs attempted to remember how to function, all rational thought long gone with the feel of him before her, the knowledge that he seemed to be in just as deep as she. Her head shake was slow, hesitant but full of conviction once his fingers moved into her hair, clutching when his hands slipped with her silent agreement.
It was slowly and gently, as he had been from the very beginning, that his hands moved from her head in order to trail down the arms connected to his own from his wrists, following the line of them until he reached her elbows, giving them a small nudge and indicating what he wanted her to do.
She moved them to trail over his neck and behind, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck when they had wrapped around, crossing her wrists loosely whilst his own hands moved over the curve of her body, brushing just gently past her breasts before he was holding her small waist, dragging a little harder as he moved to lock his hands and rest them against the small of her back, pulling her towards him a little more, their chests barely pressing as his forehead fell to rest against her own once more.
"Regina?" he whispered into the space between them, her name having never sounded as wonderful as it did then, a quiet "hmm?" making it past her lips, the only sound she was capable of in that moment as his stubbled cheek rubbed against the skin of her jaw, shivering in his arms when his lips brushed against her shoulder momentarily before the hands on his neck told her that he was looking at her fully once more, his words hot against her lips with the closeness of his face as he asked "may I kiss you?"
And her response was instantaneous, her conviction clearly heard in words she wouldn't have thought to have come from her own mouth yet felt so right saying. "You never need to ask again," though before his lips connected with her own she pulled back enough to whisper with a vulnerability he never knew she had, "is this really real or am I going to wake up alone and disappointed in my bed having dreamed of an angel?"
His arms tightened minutely around her, enough to comfort as his lips brushed softly against her own, having hers closing upon reflex in hopes of catching them though the need to hear his answer had her remaining where she was, before he whispered back, "as real as you and me Regina, as real as the day is long, as the night is dark, this" and he didn't have to clarify to her that he meant whatever it was that was going on between them, "this is scaring the hell out of me Regina for I have never felt as strongly for another as quickly as I have you m'lady and, if you'll allow me, I would most certainly like to find out just how special it could be."
She moved one hand away from his neck then, hooking the other a little more securely around his shoulder with the way she was tilting into him, before she was tracing over his face, feeling the lines beside his eyes that told of a happy soul, the creases upon his forehead that revealed a wisdom to the tragedies of the world and gently smiling lips that indicated the honesty of the words spoken by this man. Her fingertips remained there only for a second before she was replying with a breathless "I would love nothing more," before her full lips were captured within those of Robin's, a man she had yet to see but already felt she knew.