It was the little things that drove you nuts, at least at first. It was the way Emma looked at you, the depth of feeling in her eyes every time they met your own. It was the supportive words, the way she stood up for you without being asked. It was the traces of sympathy, or was it empathy, dancing across her face when she'd step in between you and the target of your rage, and it was the tone of voice she'd use to slowly walk you back from the edge. It was the knowing smiles she shot your way, like there was a joke that only the two of you were in on.

At first it was the little things, but then it was everything. It was the way she'd just swing by with lunch like it was something they always did, and it was the way that sometimes she wouldn't swing by at all. It was the way she knew just how to challenge without stepping over the line, and even more so it was the way she knew how to push all the right buttons when she wanted to get a reaction. It was the way that she was always there, always butting in where she didn't belong, and worse yet how she wasn't there when she was truly needed, like on the nights that seemed endless where the loneliness and guilt were closing in and there was nowhere to hide. It was the way she always knew how to find you when you thought all you wanted was to be alone, when in fact the last thing you needed was solitude.

It was her grin, her laugh, her hands, her sarcasm, her eyelashes, her hair, her hideous jacket, her omnipresent boots, her arms, her skin tight jeans. It was everything about her and you just couldn't take it anymore, couldn't put up with her for one more second.

And then it was the way her cheek felt when your fist connected with it, jogging a memory not all-together yours of another hit from years before. It was the hurt in her eyes as she stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet and landing hard on her back. It was your voice screaming,

"Get the hell away from me Emma!"

"But...Regina..." It was the quiver in her voice and the way it made you ache deep inside your chest, where you expected to feel nothing at all, while her words made you want to rip yourself in half (but you'd already done that, now hadn't you?)

"No! I am not yours. You don't get to treat me like this! You shouldn't even treat her like this!"

It was the way she stayed down, it was the sorrow in her eyes and the pull in your soul to reach out and take it away. It was the near whisper as she tried again, always trying again,

"Regina..."

It was a roar from your throat

"I AM NOT REGINA. There's no one here for you to save, Savior. I'm the Evil Queen."

"You are Regina." It was the certainty in her words, the determination in her eyes as she stood.

"I'm not. I'll not have this from you, Savior, I won't have one bit of it. Get out of my vault. Got back to your pathetic fairytale. Go back to her and leave me be. I'll never be yours."

It was the way she did as you asked, raising her hands as if to placate. It was the way she gave you one last sad and longing look over her shoulder before she climbed the stairs.

It was the way she'd never be yours.

It was the way she almost was.

It was the way that she was hers.

*Author's Note: Just to be clear, this is from the perspective of the Evil Queen half of Regina, after the two of them were split. The "her" that she mentions is referring to the Regina half. Emma is aware which half she is dealing with, but she doesn't want to give up on the Evil Queen. She's trying to believe in the good in her. Some people asked, so I wanted to clarify.