Rejection: to refuse to have, take, recognize, etc. This word meant so much more to Emma Swan than just the definition. It was a fear, an experience she'd had all throughout her life, it was a living, breathing monster looming ominously behind her at all times. She pondered this solemnly as she locked the door to Mary Margret's apartment and then stuffed her hands unceremoniously into her jean pockets. The crickets chirped loudly and evening began to descend on the sleepy little town of Storybrooke, Maine as she walked down Main Street toward 108 Mifflin St, all too aware of what waited for her at the end of her walk.
The fear that lurked in the forefront of her mind and all but consumed her nearly caused her to turn away and try to forget to whole ordeal. Would it not be easier to go back and drown the whole idea of it in a few glasses of hard liquor? But Emma knew she couldn't do that. She'd tried it before which only made her dilemma all the more prominent. She closed her eyes and took in a long breath of the salty sea air. It was so calm out. Emma's surroundings were blissfully ignorant to the inner turmoil she felt. If she was rejected once again tonight, the world would keep on turning, the sun would still rise in the morning and set in the evening, and the universe would, once more, leave Emma behind in it's wake. Rather than feel calmed by the fact that yes, life would go on, it only caused Emma more anxiety. She didn't want to be left behind, not this time.
As she made her last turn onto Mifflin Street, she tried to rehearse the words she'd planned and rearranged a million times in her head, but her mind had gone blank. She was grateful for the tight jean pockets or else her hands would've been shaking. Her heart felt as though it would beat straight out of her chest yet her feet were on autopilot. She was in too deep to turn back. Emma was too emotionally invested in this...whatever it was to back out now. As she walked up the path toward the house, Emma couldn't think of a time out of the many she'd walked this path that she'd felt this small, this insignificant, this dependent on a simple answer to a not so simple question.
The moment Emma rung the doorbell, she wished she could take it back, buy herself a moment more to think. But she'd spent so much time thinking and wondering, another five seconds probably wouldn't have helped. The moments flew by and dragged by at the same time as Emma waited for her to open the door. Emma tried to slow her labored breaths. Then it happened. The large wooden door opened and revealed Regina Mills in all her elegant glory. The way she carried herself screamed regal.
"Miss Swan," she said shortly.
"Hi," Emma squeaked out pathetically.
"Henry's at a sleepover you know, dear," said Regina after a moments pause.
"I know," replied Emma slowly, "I came to see you." Time froze as Emma thought about whether or not she was really about to do this. The answer was a frightening, unequivocal yes. The tapping of Regina's toe on the concrete of the small porch brought Emma back to earth.
"Well?" Regina inquired semi-impatiently. Emma looked at her like a deer in the headlights.
"I just wanted to tell you..." The last words died on her lips. The three letter phrase that she thought of every time she saw the breathtaking woman couldn't come out. So Emma compromised. Actions speak louder than words after all. Emma leaned forward and pressed her lips to Regina's. It was short and fleeting, more like a brush of their lips than a real kiss. Emma pulled back so as to judge Regina's reaction. She was smiling softly. Her facial expression kinder than Emma has ever seen on the high strung, uptight mayor.
"I've been waiting so long for you to do that," She breathed at barely a whisper. Emma's face broke out into a large grin that she couldn't contain, a grin she thought might last forever. She leaned in a kissed her again, deeper this time and Regina kissed her back. Both women poured all their emotions into it, every pent up feeling they'd felt for each other ever since they'd met. The road Emma had been going down her entire life had come to a dead end. She could either turn around and run all the way back or she could put it in park and stay. And in the fading light, Emma knew that her time for running away had expired forever.