Her eyes rolled as she stepped out of the safety of her room and into the absolute minefield of empty bottles and abandoned pizza boxes with half the contents spilling out and onto the wooden flooring of their shared apartment. It wasn't every weekend that she'd return home to find the place in such a state…but it was most and really, what with her away from Friday evening to Monday afternoon every week, she couldn't find it within herself to blame her roommate, that and the fact that she usually woke before Regina was due to arrive home and absolutely blitzed the place. On the rare occasion though, as seemed to be the situation this weekend, Emma let herself get a little too carried away and so Regina got to play her favourite game of all, spot the blonde.

There were black refuse bags dotted around the open space, most leaning against the wooden support beams that ran through the apartment in order to keep from spilling their contents. Emma really did try to keep the place clean but she couldn't supervise everyone, couldn't be the litter police and keep the party alive at the same time. Amongst the rubbish were the various blankets they owned and had managed to collect over the years here, many partygoers having pre-empted their drunken sleepover and had brought their own a long time ago, trusting the girls to keep it safe and ready for them when needed. It was ridiculous but it wastheir kind of ridiculous.

She couldn't help a low chuckle at the various limbs she could spy poking from beneath the blankets and jackets being used for those who didn't know the rules of the apartment, didn't know it was a BYOB type affair and by BYOB, it referred to both Beer and Blanket. Now her roommate, Emma, had a rather dainty flower tattooed on her right wrist, a rather feminine addition that allowed people to deduce that underneath her tough exterior, her sarcastic remarks that Regina delighted in when they sparred, and her scathing looks that could cut you to the bone, she really was something of a softy, just a young girl in need of a friend. She spotted bracelets, one leather strap wrapped around a thin wrist had her positive that one Ruby Lucas lay beneath, she'd be one of the last to rise from her alcohol induced coma and would demand both a strong cup of coffee and a run-down of how many she'd kissed the night before. The girl was far from a common whore, she was a party girl and she never went further than a quick tongue in the mouth, girl or boy, she was a beloved addition to their rag-tag group and neither Emma nor Regina would change her.

On the 2-seater sofa lay two bodies both undercover of a rather fluffy, flowery blanket in a pale pink motif. Mary Margaret and David were here. David, Regina got on with like a house on fire but his girlfriend, the ever optimistic, rainbow kisses and unicorn sticker endorsing gnat, she the brunette could not tolerate, had not been able to the moment she stuck her button nose into Regina's business and family affairs. Say anything about Regina, she didn't care, but her family, to pry into something so intimately private when she'd only known the girl for a few hours, it was extremely off-putting to Regina and she'd studiously avoided the girl as much as was possible. It was only because she was Emma's step-sister that she allowed her to even enter their apartment.

In the end it was the hacking cough followed by a loud snore that had Regina's eyes falling to their 3-seater sofa, one that Emma's Uncle James had, rather begrudgingly, donated to them after hearing the blonde gripe about their lack of seating. Sure enough blonde curls were cascading like a waterfall over the arm of the sofa, one arm hanging so a softly clenched fist was brushing the floor by the knuckles, a lovely little flower tattoo on show and, by the deepening of Emma's snores, the blonde was going to be out for a while.

It was with careful feet that Regina managed to navigate her way to her room, glad to find the door had remained shut since she had left. She trusted Emma implicitly but when alcohol flowed, sometimes people's morals weren't as well meaning as her roommate. She huffed out a breath of effort as she managed to throw her duffel bag onto her bed, resigning herself to unpacking later, much later after she'd managed to brew herself a nice strong coffee and had gotten some food into herself, these early morning drives home were taking their toll on her but with afternoon classes looming and her father's health declining, she'd found herself between a rock and a hard place.

He'd had a stroke just a month after Regina had moved into her shared accommodation, had pleaded with her to continue her schooling commitments once his speech had mercifully returned to him and she'd had to listen to him. She loved learning, the prospect of making more of herself than some trophy wife like her mother had and so had heeded his pleas. Now, a year later, he had weekly care, a nurse to ensure he was eating and taking care of himself throughout the days Regina couldn't be there, many of his motor functions returning but some he still found difficult. On the weekends it was his daughter's turn, by her insistence, she wasn't going to abandon him completely even though he'd argued, told her that working and caring for him with no relief was no life at all but she'd argued right back, just as stubborn as he and reminded him that she wouldn't even have a life if it hadn't been for him…and so, he'd relented, though he still groused every weekend, the hours she spent with him were precious and she wouldn't trade it for anything.

It meant though that, when things like parties and mixers were happening, when Emma was having their friends over for more than just quick visits between classes, Regina was unable to attend.

She smiled warmly as she looked over the many photographs tacked to the walls of her room. Friends she'd had to leave behind, Kathryn, Melinda, her old school friends, those her mother approved of though she'd had no idea just what the girls used to get up to once they'd left the confines of the Mills' estate. Friends she'd made here, Ruby, Emma of course, David, Killian who followed Emma around like a puppy and though he tried oh so hard to maintain his whole grunge bad-boy façade Regina had seen the softer side to him, the gentleman trying to win over her best friend.

On her bedside table though were two framed photographs, treasured pictures that she knew she would carry with her for the rest of her life no matter where it took her. One, of course, was of her and her father. She was around 5 in the photograph, sitting on the soft sand of the beach beside her father, both looking off to the same side and looking so alike in expression. She wasn't sure who had taken the photograph, highly doubted it was her mother, but she was infinitely grateful they had for it was the only picture she had of the two of them.

The second photograph made her heart ache less now whenever she looked at it, it had only been around a year ago that she'd been able to take it out of her drawer, had been able to display it and allow herself to think of him, her Daniel. He had taken the photograph, his arm just visible to the edge of the frame as he leaned into Regina's side, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as she appeared to be giggling, eyes closed and nose scrunched. It was taken on one of the many nights she'd been able to sneak away from home, with her father's help sometimes, to spend with Daniel. Her mother had never approved, had forbidden Regina from seeing him, sometimes going as far as to lock her in her room. That didn't matter to Regina though because she loved Daniel, would always love Daniel.

He'd died not too long after that photograph had been taken, a head-on collision that killed him on impact. It had been the worst summer of her life.

She'd learned though, over time, that he wouldn't have wanted her to just throw away her life, to hide under her covers and shut the world out. He'd want her to make something of herself, to make her life special and prove her mother wrong and so she'd thrown herself into her studies and gotten into the first school of her choice, far away from the world she had grown up in.

She trailed a tender finger over the photograph, smiling tenderly before realising how thirsty she was. She'd filled her ceramic to-go cup with black coffee ready from the drive back before she'd left but that had been hours ago and if she remembered correctly, there was a little of her orange juice left in the fridge if Emma hadn't pilfered it already. That outcome was particularly likely, what was not however, as she left the confines of her room and navigated through the party remnants on the floor to make it to the kitchen, somewhat open plan save for the wooden beams marking something of a doorway, was the figure standing at the sink and washing through dishes.

Her mouth hung open in slight shock as she remained in the doorway, brow furrowed as she attempted to work out who it could be. The random party-goers never stuck around and the regulars who did were always hard-core drinkers and passed out until at least 2pm if they had a free day which most did, which those still slobbering in their living area, Emma included, did on a Monday, so who the hell was this?

He wore slate grey sweats and a forest green t-shirt which, from her view of his back, seemed to cling just enough to his muscled form. The biceps she could see, moving back and forth as he scrubbed at another glass before placing it upside down and the draining board with many others, were well-defined yet not too over worked like he cared for his body but didn't spend too much time on it. She found herself wondering what he did spend his time on before pulling herself out of that train of thought having not explored such a thing since the days in which Daniel had begun courting her.

As she remained a little longer she heard him humming some tune as he worked and found the corners of her lips curling upwards ever so, the tone of his voice was almost honeyed as it rose and fell with a melody she couldn't recognise, it was nice, soothing almost. So soothing that she hadn't realised she'd fallen into a sort of catatonic state until startled blue eyes had found her, the hand not holding their dishtowel raising to clutch at his chest…his lovely, broad chest.

"Dear lord!" he exclaimed, British, she deduced as she could only stare at his face, his lovely, handsomely rugged face, "are you part ninja or something?!"

It was his breathy chuckle that had her shaking her head, realising she'd been staring and not listening to a word he'd said, too focused on the way his lips moved as they formed words. "I'm sorry, what?"

But it seemed instead of recognising that she'd been practically ogling him, he merely deduced that she hadn't understood his joke not that he hadn't heard it. He laughed once more as he leant heavily into the sink counter behind him, both hands supporting his weight with the dishtowel dangling between two fingers. "Sorry, you just scared me," he explained, "I didn't hear you get up but I must say," his head titled then as he looked her over, completely unaware of the heat he was sending through her as his shining eyes took in her appearance, "you look well for one of Emma Swan's famed parties, may I have your secret?"

And his clothing makes sense then as she seems to find her voice, giving one quick glance down his body, confused as to his bare feet if her latest assumption was correct, "you weren't here last night?"

His brow furrowed at her question, his lips quirking into an amused smile as he posed his own question right back, "you weren't here last night?" and at her shaking head he continues with another, "so then, why are you here?"

It takes her a moment, has her arms coming to cross over her chest defensively as her posture straightens significantly, ignores the way his eyes rake over her again but in a far different way than before, almost appreciatively before she remembers that she'd worn a lower cut tank today, the weather being as warm as it was, the position of her arms would have increased the minimal amount of cleavage that had already been on display though she found she didn't want his gaze to move from her, his attention to fall away from her so she remained as she stood even when she'd heard the real question within his words, the confusion.

"I'm Emma's roommate."

And recognition is filling his features then as his head tilts back, his mouth opening in a small 'o' of realisation before his speaking again. "You're the allusive Regina?" he almost laughs at the way her eyes narrow suspiciously, the guard thrown up behind her dark eyes and it has him wanting it back down, he wants her open to him, wants her comfortable in his presence for he is encroaching upon her space. "I'm Killian's roommate," he gives by way of explanation, holding out a hand towards her which she eyes before accepting, chocolate eyes meeting his own once more.

"You're Robin?" she asks and her gaze is completely different now, obviously studying him, not bothering to hide the fact, "I see."

"Yes well," he chuckles somewhat awkwardly when he finally releases her hand, bringing his own up to rub at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry we haven't met before, I know we were supposed to."

It's pointed, the way he speaks alluding to the fact that he knows but then the question is who told him? Who revealed one of her more embarrassing secrets that on the night she had agreed to meet him, Emma and Killian playing matchmaker, she had in fact gone to the coffee shop, had seen the back of his head from the doorway with him having told her which table he'd be sitting at, and she'd fled. It had been her first, and only, attempt at dating after Daniel and she'd panicked. She'd confessed all to Emma later that night, had allowed for a little scolding before shutting the girl up and that had been that…surely her friend wouldn't have told him?

He doesn't give her chance to ask though because instantly he's asking for a re-do, asking what she has planned for the rest of the day, disappointed when she tells him she has classes this afternoon but elated when she agrees to meet him the next door for dinner in their local diner, no pressure, no expectations just good food and conversation. She shoos him not long after, tells him to grab his no good friend and leave her to wake her own and deal with the bomb site their apartment has turned into and she finds, even as she reaches into the refrigerator to pull out an empty orange juice container, thank you Emma Swan, that she couldn't find it in her to care for surely nothing could wipe the smile from her face today, not even the realisation that her lectures are being given by Doctor Gold. Nope, because thinking about tomorrow's date with one Robin Locksley felt a little bit like hope.