AN: A little drabble from Ella's/Jacinda's POV. Takes place during 7x15.
You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated, all I need is to see your face.
"So, if it lands in the mug, then everything's real. The fairy tales, destiny, … True love."
It isn't a question. He tries to play it cool, but one corner of his mouth is tugged up. It gives away his nerves.
He looks at her with a crooked head, slightly from below. It makes her heart ache. She knows it's ridiculous, but something in her yearns to give into this idea. To the possibility that there is an easy remedy to her complicated life. That lasting happiness lies just beneath the surface, even if that means she once chose glass slippers over comfort.
And so she hears herself say: "Good luck, my prince."
The coin wanders from her hand to his, and all she can do is tell herself to keep breathing. It is an impossible shot after all.
So they both chuckle, as Henry positions himself.
Just a silly bet over a coincidence. Nothing to be short of air over.
So breath, girl.
The coin springs from Henry's thumb, and time seems to slow down.
Suddenly, Jacinda is confronted with flashbacks. Henry's scent reminds her of the sun flaring through green leaves.
The beat in the distance reminds her of blue fabric swirling around her ankles.
Laughter, flowers, swords clinging, the smell of a lake.
A lifetime filled with the ease she feels when she looks into those green eyes.
Her blood pounds in her ears – that's the one thing reminding her she is here, in the real world. Not around some campfire in Lucy's book.
Or, well, Henry's book.
Breath.
With an innocent cling, the coin lands on the coaster, before it skids off the bar.
Yeah, it was too good to be true.
Hours later, as she shifts between waking and sleeping, the images return. She sees Henry in a doublet, she finds herself in the maze of Wonderland, or on top of a motorcycle riding through the forest.
She tells herself it's a dream, all of it. Or that she went over the story one time too many with Lucy. That's all it is.
Yet she can't find rest and gets up for one last glass of water.
Drinking long chugs one by one, her eyes wander through her apartment. On the coffee table, innocently, lies a coin from Flynn's.
Jacinda let's out a sigh. Maybe Lucy forgot to return it and brought it home. She sets the almost empty tumbler down and strides over to the couch. Another addition to the long list of motherly duties: Make daughter bring back arcade tokens. She intends to only pick it up and hang it on Lucy's key board,
but the little thing vexes her.
Me walking through those doors could be a coincidence.
And so was this little coin finding its way to her tonight. So was a lot that happened to her in the last few weeks.
The next morning, Jacinda would brush this off as one of her crazy dreams. Even the notion to repeat the bet is childish.
But she lays back on the couch, reaches up her hand and tosses.
This time, there is no slowing of time or sudden 'memories' flooding her conscience. Just one heartbeat, during which she allows herself to wish... And then a splash at the other side of the room.
Breath.
AN: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments :)
Both the title as well as the lyric in the beginning are from Ariana Grande's Breathin', which helped me settle the direction for this piece.