Prompt, feel free for anyone to send me some more on Tumblr. The more the merrier!
'I love you, idiot'
- Alyssa, Regalbeliever447
AN: It might be a little cliché but, I dunno, just read it and hopefully it's good enough. I'm also going to say that this is AU-ish. Everyone is in Storybrooke but no curses have been cast or anything like that so, I dunno, call it what you want. I apologise for any cringiness in this. I've also upped Roland's age to six.
Anyone else interested can read it too.
Rating: Angsty-fluff (it's kinda somewhere in between).
Her high heeled feet tap against the pavement as a light rain falls. She shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be walking anywhere, she told the others she was only going outside for a minute, but that minute was spent staring at his name she'd been unable to delete, her thumb hovering over the call button as she wondered if she should chance another call. She's rang him twice since everything went to hell, both times leading her to the voicemail. He was ignoring her, probably trying to avoid her entirely (Regina doesn't blame him, they hadn't exactly parted on good terms) So she knows where this call is going to lead her.
But she does it anyway. Her hovering thumb quickly tapping the green button. As the phone rings she sits down on the porch step, rests both her elbows on her knees, her heart beating fast mirrored by the rings of the phone. She brings her thumb to her mouth and bites her nail, scraping the black nail vanish off with her teeth- a habit she hates, a habit she's trying to kick, especially after Cora cut her nail too short (to point where they bled) when she was younger- but she can't help it, not as the nerves and anxiety pools in her stomach.
There's been too many rings and she's entered Voicemail Land once more. The familiar sentence of Robin saying that he can't be reached right now and to speak after the beep.
The beep as passed and she's still not saying anything, thinks maybe she should just hang up- this is the third time, if she carries on she's going to seem like some clingy teenage girlfriend- but her time is running out, the second beep signalling her voicemail time is up will sound and she will not ring him a fourth time! So it seems this is her only chance.
Regina sighs before speaking, ''Hey, Robin, it's me...'' she pauses, bites her lip as she wonders how to word what she's trying to say. ''I know you've been ignoring me but we need to talk...about us.'' Her voice shakes as she says the next part, ''Just...meet me at the clock tower in twenty minutes. If you come I know there's a chance and if you don't-''
The beep interrupts. Her time is up. She slowly brings the phone away from her ear and gets the last glimpse of Robin's name before it automatically goes and her phone locks itself after the call. She stares into her reflection and wonders if she's made the right choice. She could call him again, tell him that it doesn't matter but truthfully, she doesn't want to do that. She needs to see him. They had something once and that doesn't go away regardless of who happens to show up re-declaring their love after four years of divorce.
So Regina stands up, dusts herself off, before going back inside the house to grab the coat nearest to her...which just so happened to be Mary Margaret's rain coat. Her anxiety still hasn't left her and she really can't be bothered to look for her own coat so she puts the disgustingly cringey thing on, smoothes it the dark beige colour down, her hand brushing the little dogs with their blue collars as she wonders what would possess a person to wear this let alone buy it, but it's on her now and Mary Margaret doesn't look like she'll be leaving any time soon so for the half an hour Regina will most likely be missing for (for longer, no doubt) she doubts the woman would miss it.
Regina reaches the clocktower and waits. The rain starts to fall heavily so she stands under the shelter, watches the rain bounce off the ground as it grows heavier, loudly tapping against the roof of the cover. She shivers against the cold, fists her hands into the pockets, and waits.
It's unfair (not to mention, ridiculous) for her to ask him to come out in this. In fact, who is she really trying to kid, he's not going to come out in this at all. It's simple, he's not going to show up, too ''honour-bound'' to want anything to do with her anymore, she might as well leave.
But she doesn't. She doesn't because of that tiny bit inside her that makes her stay put. That part of her that tells her he's going to come. That hopeful part of her that never goes away no matter how much suffering is thrown at her.
She wonders how it got to this point, practically begging to meet up in the rain. How everything could go from perfect and happy to an unpredictable pile of mess. Then she realises it, everything was perfect and happy and those things have never worked well for her, it seems.
He's not coming, she thinks as the clock chimes signally a new hour. Stamps repeatedly on that other voice that tells her to wait, that nobody shows up exactly on time, that he's just running late. She drowns it out because she knows she'll be here all night otherwise just...waiting.
It's just as she's about to get the courage to venture out into the rain that she sees something through it. A dark figure coming towards her. Her heart beats a little faster and she can't tear her eyes away from the form. It has to be him. No one else would go out in this weather. No one else would be walking towards her.
She lets out a sigh of relief. Feels the bounds of longing release her. Feels like she's finally come up for air after being underwater for too long. She wants to run out and kiss him until they need air but then she realises nobody actually does that, especially not when there's a perfectly good shelter behind them. So she waits for him to come to her and when he does she can't do anything but just stare at him, feeling the ropes of anxiety grab around her.
Everything she wanted to say to him has gone and despite the anxiety, she still can't get over that he actually showed up and if he's showed up then that means he thinks there's a chance for them.
''So, you showed up?'' she asks, breaking the silence that formed.
''And you looked like you were going to go.''
Regina shrugs, ''I thought you weren't going to show up.''
Robin bites his lip and looks away. ''I wasn't going to at first.''
Despite trying not to, Regina can't help but feel a sting at his words, the disappointment that there might not have been that chance. There still might not be a chance, she tells herself.
''So what made you change your mind?''
''Roland.'' he answers, his voice full of honesty. ''He told me that despite having his mama back it didn't feel the same as having you and Henry living with us.''
Regina can't stop the smile from forming. The little boy she stopped from being run over by a car two years ago had been the one to change his father's mind. She should have known. Robin would do anything to keep his son happy.
''And,'' he continues, ''I thought that if I tried hard enough I could make myself fall back in love with Marian. Maybe I might have done in the past but...I guess that was before I met someone.''
At the mention of those two words all lights explode from Regina's world. Darkness covers her as that pyramid of hope and chance shatters. This is what he's meeting up with her for. Maybe he's moved on from her. Maybe there was never something between them at all. Maybe he was just using her so he had somewhere other than dingy old abandoned apartment to live in. Maybe love is weakness after all.
Her voice is shaky, unsure as she whispers, ''Met someone?''
He smiles as he says the next part. ''Yes.''
Regina swallows, keeps the tears at bay. ''And you...you love her?''
Robin looks her straight in her eyes. ''I didn't realise how much until she wasn't there anymore.''
Regina forces a smile and nods. Kicks herself for stupidly believing someone could love her, could want her. She's all the words Mother's called her, all the words everyone's called her.
''Well, I hope she makes you happy.''
She begins turning away feeling embarrassed and ashamed that she thought he'd come back for her. Thought he believed they actually had a chance. They didn't. They never had.
''Regina?'' his voice pulls her from her thoughts. She stops and looks at him. ''Where are you going?''
''You said you found someone else.''
A frown appears on his face. He looks confused and truthfully, so is she. That's when he smiles. And the smile turns into a chuckle and it's her turn to frown. She really can't understand what's so funny about the situation.
''You thought...''Robin pauses as he realises. ''Regina. It's you. I love you, idiot.''
Her frown leaves her face. She smiles, feeling relief spread through her once more, it's even enough for her to ignore the fact that he insulted her. It's her. And it makes sense. He can't love Marian because he loves her. Of course he does. He can barely survive pretending to love someone for two weeks, how did he make it through two years?
But then reality sets in. They can't just go home and pretend the hell they endured never happened because that hell is still here. A living, breathing human being that's bound to cause problems, something that can't be avoided.
''And what about Marian?'' Regina asks.
Disappointment flutters through his eyes as he realises it's not as simple either. ''I'll work something out.''
Regina nods. He will. He has to. Then he kisses her, but it's quick and chaste, and almost like it didn't happen. Perhaps it didn't.
Before he leaves to go out into that dreadful weather again he whispers, Nice coat, by the way, and she can't help the simple that forms.
''It's not mine. It's Mary Margaret's.'' and she comes to realise just how easier- and less humiliating- it would have been if she just grabbed her own.
''I know. It suits you.'' then he's disappearing through the rain again, running back the way he came.
Regina can't help but smile. She feels like some giddy teenager but she can't help it. There's no more worrying. Not more longing. It'll be her, him, Roland, and Henry soon. Just as it was always supposed to be.