Letters to you AU

by millsapple

No feelings, tears or smile. That's Emma Swan. Or was. The day Regina Mills steps into her classroom, Emma's life fully changes. Over the year she discovers pain finds love, but does Regina love her back? The simple answer is YES. But it's a little more complicated. Because the reason Regina steps in the classroom isn't because she's a new student. It's because she's a new teacher.

Remember when we first met? Well, not really met, you probably didn't even notice me there. You walked in the class, gave a quick look to everyone, and never looked at me again that day. For me, it was different, I never told you this, but it was. My eyes were all over you, I couldn't stop looking. You were gorgeous. I knewyou were what I needed the most. You weren't the classic sexyor anything like that. It was inside you; in the way you talked, walked, acted … that was what I liked.

After you stepped in the class, just slowly introducing yourself, not caring about any of us, just starting the lecture right on the first day, everyone disliked you. They were terrified of you, because they thought you weren't any fun. I didn't though. I couldn't dislike you; oh you don't even know how much I wanted to dislike you back then. I still wish I did.

A few weeks after, we had to choose a project theme. I don't know how, but somehow I choose English literature as my theme. I truly hatedEnglish literature; I guess I just wanted to get a good grade. When they told me that I had to spend time with the teacher for the project I didn't know if I should be happy or sad. I was both. I was happy I get to spend time with you, and I was sad because I get to spend time with you.

During the project, when I, two other people and you were sitting in an empty class, discussing the theme, you were being a bitch to me. All the time. I thought you hated me. I thought you found me weird, actually. I don't know why, it just felt that way. And I hated you too, because I couldn't hate you and I hated you for that. And I hated myself even more. I wantedto hate you so much.

That was when I cut for the first time. I found a blade and I ran it slowly over my skin, not very deep. Next time I went deeper. And deeper. And blood was streaming down my arm and I liked it. I liked the pain. I liked that I didn't think about you while it was happening.

It slowly became a routine, whenever a picture of you appeared in my mind, I took the blade and made a cut. And another. And another. I became an addict. I had to wear long sleeves all the time, luckily it was winter. After the project was over I stopped meeting you that much, but two lessons a week were enough for me to continue with the cutting. It wasn't even for you in the end, it was because I loved the pain. I loved the blood streaming down my arm. I loved the little white scars I had after it. I loved how the skin changed colors while the blood was going over it. I loved how I didn't feel anything just that.

I think after the project you stopped hating me. You were nice to me, sometimes, not much. But it was something. I somehow finished the year with you. For the next year we got a new teacher. I was sad. Really, very sad. I knew I couldn't have you, but I liked seeing you. I knew I would be seeing you, sometimes. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to see you twice a week at English literature and then randomly during the rest of the week. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hear you laugh. I wanted to hear you talk. I wanted you.

Emma xx.