Inspired by 'Jealous - Labrinth'
Set when Robin left Regina for New York with Roland and Marian.
She's jealous of the way the rain falls upon his skin, the way it washes over him and touches him in places she is no longer able to. The way the wind brushes through his hair like her fingers used to.
She's jealous of the sun, shining brightly down on him, kissing his skin lightly and making it flush, beads of sweat rising on his forehead that she used to be able to kiss away. She's jealous it gets to wake him up every morning, with the birds chirping, a smile on his face that she misses more and more every day.
She's jealous of the night. As the moonlight sends him to sleep, she's jealous of the soft pillows he rests his head against, the covers that keep his body warm, something that she used to be able to do every night.
She's jealous of the minutes that tick by, as she wonders of the person who gets to lie next to him. Of the love that he receives from another. Of the way she just knows he is happy without her.
She told him there was nothing to forgive when he repeated the words "I am sorry." That her life was always filled with heartbreak and misery, that she would always be able to pick herself up and continue as she always has done.
But her heart is heavier than it ever has been. A dull ache within her chest as her mind is only filled with the memories of the time they spent together. Secret kisses and touches shared under the moonlight. A promise of forever that both now know was a lie.
He is a man of honour. A man who follows a code. And that is why Regina spends her days and nights alone. Jealous of the way someone else gets to tell her soulmate they love him. They treasure him. They need him.
She thought he would come back, once Marian was healed fully but days turned into weeks, which turned into months and still her love was not back with her. Instead she knew he was happy without her.
But happiness never came back to Regina. A life without her outlaw was not one she wanted to live. She was a former shadow of herself. Crying behind the smile she forces on her face whenever her family try to make herself feel better. But nothing will work. Not without him.
She dreams of him at night. Of the way his fingers would feel against her skin, of the press of his lips against her own. The way he would fill her completely when they made love. How each thrust after thrust made her feel like fireworks as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear about how beautiful she is, how perfect, stunning in every way.
But once daylight breaks she feels his love slipping through her fingers like sand and watches as the waves wash away any chance of happiness she once thought she deserved.