Summary: What would people think if they saw us? The Saviour and the former Evil Queen? I scoff to myself at the ridiculous thought. That's definitely a page no one would see in any story book… right?
Author's note: Just a little SwanQueen goodness for all your Swen needs during this dreadful hiatus.
Also, just to clarify, this would probably take place after the season 5 finale when they come back from New York, but before the Evil Queen comes to Storybrooke. So in between season 5 and 6.
The streets of Storybrooke are now wet and gleaming from the rain that had been falling earlier. The sky is black even though it isn't even that late into the evening. The atmosphere is peaceful and most everyone is away and warm in their homes. That is, except for, well… me. I'd found myself walking alone to take my mind off some things and soon enough wound up at the bar in Granny's diner. Figures.
I have been finding it hard to sleep at night, or even to concentrate on anything recently, and it's almost driving me mad. There really isn't anywhere else for me to go at this time of day, considering I really don't feel like staying at home right now. It only forces me to drown myself in my thoughts from the silence and vacancy of the large house.
My chin is heavily resting in my palm when I hear the bell of the door ringing somewhere behind me. I don't bother taking my tired eyes off the counter, assuming it is probably just another random local coming in for their usual beverage ritual.
"Regina, hey." I snap out of my daze, my head turning towards the door. I instantly recognize that voice and think that it's actually kind of comforting to hear.
Emma is wearing a gray knitted sweater with blue jeans and has her hair hung loosely around her shoulders like she usually does. When I set my eyes on her, Emma is already a lot closer than I expected and the blonde doesn't hesitate in taking a seat directly next to me at the bar.
"Hey," I respond, honestly a bit joyful to find Emma here at this time, even though I definitely wasn't expecting to see her of all people.
Emma leans toward me in order to adjust her position on the stool, causing our arms to brush against each others for a brief second.
"What are you doing here?" I can't help but ask, my eyes set on Emma. I expected the girl to be happy at home with her parents like she usually is, or worst of all, with Hook. It's rare the two are ever apart. Or at least, in my eyes it seems that way.
An exasperated sigh escapes Emma's lips. "I, uh… just felt like I could use a drink, I guess."
I can't help but notice the slight sorrow in her voice, sensing that something is clearly wrong. I'm not sure if I should ask or not. After all, it's not really my business what goes on in Emma's life, right? Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it.
"Killian and I… we ended it." Emma continues. She looks over, our eyes meeting for the first time that night. Her hands are folded neatly in front of her, resting on the counter. She shrugs her shoulders. "Well, I ended it."
The short silence is filled with the sound of the jukebox playing faintly somewhere behind us.
I can't find the words to say. To be honest, I am shocked to hear it. The way Emma and the pirate were pretty much all over each other every waking hour and the fact that he seemed to follow her around town like a puppy convinced me that the two were inseparable.
"Oh, I'm sorry," is all I can manage to say, my voice slow and hesitant. I question whether that is a lie or not.
"Don't be." Emma reassures, flashing me a grin.
"What, uh…" I clear my throat quickly, hugging my elbows atop the counter. "What happened?" I lean forward as I speak, barely realizing it. "If you don't mind me asking." I'm definitely not an expert when it comes to comforting people or giving any advice whatsoever. Especially with break ups, but I figure I should try to help anyway.
"Long story short, we got in this big fight about how there isn't enough trust between us and that I thought he was taking things too fast." She stares down longingly, thinking back to it. "There's a lot of reasons. It's a whole mess, really. Anyway, I got in my car and didn't wanna go back home and deal with my parents yet so I just… wound up here."
"Well, it seems to me like it's a good thing you ended it, then. A relationship without trust is not one worth while." I hope I'm making the girl feel a little bit better in some way. However, a part of me feels slightly guilty for judging their relationship when I really don't have a right to.
"I know," Emma agrees. "I don't care, though. If anything, I'm just happy I got out of it."
I hate to admit to myself that I am actually pleased to hear that Emma is happier now. I'd never say it out loud though.
"Well, it would seem neither of us have had the best of days, then." I say, unintentionally reminding myself about why I was here but attempting to let Emma know that I can relate in some way.
"Yeah? And what brings you here?" Emma peers at me, suddenly curious to know after being so wrapped up in her and Hook.
I begin to fidget with my hands in my lap, figuring there is no point in making up a lame excuse. This is Emma I'm talking to. If there is anyone in this whole town who can understand and who I can count on to listen when I need it, it would be Emma.
"Well, I know it's been a few weeks since Robin, but… it's still a little hard," I stutter, subtlety motioning my hand as if to help me find the right words. "-to deal with, I guess. I don't know, I just thought coming here would help me take my mind off it somehow. Just needed to get out of the house, you know?" I speak shyly, feeling like I'm barely making any sense. "I've just been thinking too much." A breath of laughter escapes my lips in a desperate attempt to cover up the grief I'm feeling.
It's not very often the two of us speak so delicately about these sorts of things, but for some reason it just feels right. Maybe it's because things have been moving so fast in Storybrooke lately that we've rarely had time to just talk.
Emma perks her eyebrows and purses her lips. "Sounds like we could both use a drink. Or… a few drinks." I know Emma understands and I'm secretly thankful she changes the subject for my benefit. Emma chuckles and I can't help but smirk back at her. Of course that is something Emma would say, and I can't reject such a suggestion.
We converse casually for hours, discussing what's been going on in each others lives and Henry's, and cracking up at the most ridiculous things when the alcohol had begun to sink in. It's not like we have anywhere to be. Our nights would play out just the same otherwise, except without the company of the other, considering both Emma and I could probably recall multiple nights we spent alone, drowning ourselves in alcohol.
As time flies by between then two of us, many townspeople enter and leave the diner without us even noticing. Now there is only a few sad lingering souls sitting quietly by themselves, as some typically do late on Friday nights when all their troubles in life begin to weigh down on them. However, Emma and I can't seem to recall a single worry we felt earlier that night.
Soon enough, 'a few drinks' ended up being many drinks and it's clear that the alcohol shows a lot more on Emma than it does on me.
Almost everything in the diner is dead and quiet except for our two lively selves. The jukebox is now playing a charming retro tune that sounds like it's directly pulled from the nineteen-thirties.
"Okay, okay," Emma attempts to calm her own giggle fit, "I challenge you, Regina Mills… to take ten shots," she flashes her hands toward me, distinguishing her ten fingers in case I forgot how to count, "in fifteen seconds," she speaks slowly, thinking hard and scrunching her face with almost every word.
Intrigued, I perk my eyebrows at the unexpected challenge and the fact that Emma unusually used my full name, which no one rarely ever did anymore.
"I accept that challenge… Emma Swan," Eager to see how this plays out, I go along with Emma's amusing drunk banter and annunciate every syllable of the girl's name.
I count her making it to seven shots before she suddenly hears the loud thud of my last empty glass slamming down onto the counter next to her. Emma rushes to check her watch while still trying to swallow.
"What? That was way less than fifteen seconds! You cheated!" She almost shouts, her voice sounding very high pitched which automatically causes me to chuckle at her serious outrage.
"I did not cheat!" I argue, playfully offended, "I've just… had a lot of practice." I try to ignore the sudden wave of warmth that pours over me after drinking so fast.
Eyes wide, Emma stares at me for moments, bewildered at the fact that I just beat her at her own challenge so easily.
"Damn, Regina, I must say I am impressed." Emma slowly turns to gaze shamefully at her remaining shot glasses, the same look of pure shock still plastered on her face.
"Well, I must say that you're good, but not that good." I respond slyly, amused at how dramatic Emma is being.
Emma's head sways visibly and she can't seem to stop giggling to herself. All she can sputter is a dramatic "pffft," in reply, suddenly trying to brush it off as no big deal.
Her mouth twists in all directions as a few silent moments pass between us, thinking. "You know," Emma begins, "when I first walked in here tonight, I expected to just… hang out here by myself and be away from every one else,"
I cringe at the thought of Emma wanting to be alone tonight and me unintentionally intruding, but push the thought to the back of my mind and continue to listen.
"But to be honest, I was really glad to see that I actually wouldn't be alone," she says. "I think I really needed this."
The ends of my lips tug into a smile and I am relieved at hearing such a charming statement. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think the same thing."
Emma is right. It really is nice to just kick back and get away from everything else for once.
"It's like you just get me, you know?" Emma says, gazing at me with a grin plastered on her face. Her green eyes sparkle with admiration. When she speaks, there is something more in her voice. Something that I can't quite grasp.
Blushing, I gaze back, pretty much hypnotized by the delicate expression on Emma's face. It feels strange to discuss our relationship like this considering we never actually do, but I like it.
For a moment, I'm dumbstruck at her words before remembering that Emma is acting noticeably different than unusual, and being drunk can bring that out in anyone. I force myself out of my daze, prohibiting myself from believing that anyone would feel that way about me and assume it is probably just drunken nonsense.
I shakes my head, grinning at the ridiculousness of it all. "Flattering but very unconvincing," I lie. It is very convincing.
"No, no, really. I'm telling the truth." Emma insists, her voice slurred. She shifts her body on the stool so she is completely facing me. "Here, use your superpower on me," she inhales deeply and heavily drops her hands to rest on her thighs.
I crease my eyebrows in confusion, "You mean your superpower?"
"Yes, that's what I meant," Emma giggles again and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. "I'm the one with the superpower, so therefore, I can tell you that I am most definitely not lying," she pauses, looking up to the ceiling, "I don't know, I can't think straight," Emma whines like a puppy and drops her head into her hand.
"I can tell," I chuckle, "and honestly, it's kind of hilarious," I casually take another sip from my glass as Emma amusingly pouts next to me.
"Oh, my god," the blonde groans loudly and my eyes quickly glance around the diner to see if anyone heard. For a brief second, I think it's because of what I said but when I look at Emma again, the girl is miserably holding her head in her hands and squeezing her eyes shut. "Aren't you drunk?"
"Yes," I respond emphatically, sounding unintentionally offended. "I think I hide it better than you do, though." That's an understatement. Now that I mention it, my attention is suddenly brought back to the fact that my head is spinning and my stomach feels uncomfortably warm. I'm positive I would faceplant if I wasn't resting my chin in my hand at this moment.
It doesn't even seem like the girl is listening because while I'm talking, Emma slithers closer to me with her elbows atop the counter and her face tiredly leans against her forearms.
Still facing forward, I side glance at her for a second, confused as to why Emma is suddenly leaning against me but also too drunk to really care. It isn't the first unusual thing she's done tonight.
"My point proven," I add.
"What are you talking about? I'm totally cool. I just… I'm just tired and it's been a really long day." Emma defends.
"It may be quite the long night, too, from the looks of it." I reply, lazily staring down at my own hand fidgeting with my fingernails, my other arm trapped in between Emma and I.
"Although, I highly doubt 'tired' is the right-" I turn my head toward Emma as I speak, but am instantly silenced when I feel Emma's lips pressing hard against my own and a surprised sound escapes my throat.
Numerous thoughts are colliding in my mind, yet at the same time, I'm not thinking at all. It's like the entire world had just been cut off around us. Is Emma Swan actually kissing me? The woman I once despised? The other mother of my son who also happens to be my best friend? It is the last thing I expect in that moment.
For a fraction of a second I actually finds myself kissing back, as if it is natural. Whenever Robin kissed me by surprise I wouldn't even have to think about returning the gesture, it just happened. However, Robin is far from my thoughts now and all I can think about is just… Emma.
Our lips are only connected for a couple of seconds, although it feels like a lifetime, before I squeeze my eyes shut and suddenly pull back, my eyebrows pressed tightly together.
"What are you doing?" I question, my voice sounding almost as panicked as I feel. My heart is now pounding and I feel electricity racing out through my fingertips.
Emma's torso naturally leans forward from me retracting so quickly, our faces inches apart even with me leaning back. The look on the blonde's face isn't nearly as phased. She just looks drained, proving the reason for her sudden outburst of affection.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes with almost no emotion in her voice. She readjusts her position so she is facing the counter again and my tense posture finally relaxes. "I'm not myself right now. I just feel kind of… all over the place at the moment."
I stare at her with confusion, the pounding in my chest beginning to ease. I try desperately to read Emma's expressions, who has stopped making eye contact with me.
After a few moments of awkward silence, I lift my chin slowly as realization dawns on me. "Emma… I think you're a little upset after Hook,"
"What? No, I'm not upset. I told you, I'm glad I got out of it." Emma insists, still not looking over to me. "Trust me, I'm not even thinking about him right now."
I purse my lips and inhale deeply at Emma's denial, noting the girl's embarrassment.
"Although, now that you mention him, I might be… just a little upset." Emma's fist presses hard against her mouth as her voice cracks, emotional about the subject all of a sudden. She shoots her hands in front of her face and groans in frustration. "He just makes me so angry."
I am suddenly fearful that Emma might actually cry or start raging all at once, and I'm sure I don't want to see either of those happen. Her emotions are clearly all over the place and I suggest the only solution I can think of.
"Hey, I think it's time we call it a night," I say, "Here, I'll, um… I-I'll take you home." I definitely didn't expect the night to end with that and am kind of embarrassed to offer, but figure I don't really have another choice. It's not like I can just leave her here as the emotional wreck that she is.
We have been here for hours anyway, I realize, and I'm not sure we can stay any longer and remain casual after what just happened. A part of me wants to just be alone now so I can unleash the panic inside me, but another part of me wants to stay with Emma. I find comfort in her company, and Emma kissing me has now only made that feeling stronger.
"Why? You don't have to do that." Emma replies.
"Actually, yes, I do." I insist, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. I feel she is my responsibility now and would feel too guilty if I didn't do anything to help her.
"You think I'm gonna get into trouble on my own or something? I can handle myself. I got this."
Of course, Emma is always stubborn and denies any form of help at all times, no matter what the situation.
"Well, you're clearly unsuitable to drive and I'm not just gonna let you walk home by yourself at this hour." I know very well what this sounds like. I really do care about Emma, I just have a hard time saying it. Although, that should be no secret by now considering everything the two of us have been through together.
"Ahh, so you're worried about me." Emma remarks, her voice becoming high-pitched. It's not a question. Great, now Emma is teasing me. I'm positive this would be brought up again in the future and mentally kick myself for it, not looking forward to that moment.
"No, I'm just not so sure you can remember the way back is all." I attempt to persuade her otherwise, but know very well how unconvincing I sound.
Emma scoffs. "Yeah, like anyone is gonna buy that." Of course, she sees right through my lies. She really does know me too well. "I know when you're lying, Regina. You should know that by now." She states it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, which, quite frankly, it probably is.
I roll my eyes, clearly defeated. For once, I hate how much that is true. "So it seems." I mutter.
"Do you really not trust people that much? What's the worst that could happen in a town full of fairy-tale characters?" Emma asks, gesturing her hands dramatically. She squints her eyes at me accusingly. "Or is it me that you don't trust?"
Please, Emma is the last person I wouldn't trust, but I know that isn't what she means. While Emma is talking, I'm already collecting my leather jacket and purse and rising to stand in front her to encourage her to do the same.
"At this point, I don't know." I sigh. Of course, Emma can be unpredictable too. I have no idea what kind of shenanigans the girl could get herself into when she's drunk. Right now, she's like regular Emma times ten, and I know 'regular Emma' pretty well, too.
At the blonde's question, I am fully aware of how much I don't trust people. Then I remember how much better I've gotten at it, and the fact that Emma is responsible for a huge part of that.
I shove the thought to the back of my mind. "And just because they're from a different realm doesn't make them any less human," I continue, "Now stop whining. I insist." The bickering isn't anything new to us, but of course, it only ever happens because we secretly care.
An overly innocent expression suddenly crosses Emma's features. "I mean, my car is right there, Regina." She gestures to the window and I glance at Emma's bright yellow bug parked just outside. To me, it's an eyesore. Nobody could not see that thing.
"I know. Like I said, neither of us should be driving right now so you can get your car tomorrow when you have a sense of composure." I nod, speaking professionally.
At that, Emma doesn't protest anymore and shifts to stand. I can see she is having a hard time staying up right and I instinctively put a hand on her back. Emma responds to the gesture by quickly gripping onto my hand as if she is about to fall.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Emma mutters.
I nervously glance down at our hands that are still entwined with each others and notice the way I am only holding onto Emma's dainty fingertips, the girl's hand fitting perfectly in mine. Our arms are held high between each other, elbows bent as if we are some elegant old-fashioned couple. I debate letting go, but Emma's hand is heavily pushing down on mine and she doesn't even seem to notice it.
After stumbling slightly and figuring out how to stand, Emma straightens her posture and suddenly shoots her arm in the air, waving at no one in particular. "It's okay, everybody, I'm fine!" She looks out to the few people in the diner and raises her voice. All eyes instantly point at her, annoyed, then ignore her and continue with what they were doing.
I shoot everybody an apologetic look. I mouth the word 'sorry' and smile anxiously in an attempt to cover my embarrassment. Yep. That's Emma.
She turns to face me and groans miserably. "I feel sick."
Concern crosses my features. Emma's grip on my hand loosens but our fingertips are still brushing against each others. Suddenly I don't want to let go.
"Do you… need to throw up?" My voice is delicate and I worriedly lean closer to Emma in case she faints or something. "Because if you do I'd rather you do it here than when we're half way up the street."
"No, no, thanks, I'm fine." Emma waves her hand dismissively. She looks up from the ground to flash me a comforting smile, her eyes sparkling. "I've just been sitting for too long."
With that, Emma turns and makes her way toward the door, beginning to babble about who-knows-what again. Not listening to what she is saying, I quickly pluck some cash from my purse and set it down on the counter, my palm laying flat on top of it as I flash Granny a sad smile, who is pouring drinks across from me. The woman returns a knowing smirk, silent words exchanging between us.
When I face the exit again my eyes lay on a struggling Emma who is trying desperately to pull a push door, completely unbeknownst to my generosity. The girl is nudging into it continuously and scanning her eyes up and down as if there is something wrong with it and she can't figure it out.
Smirking in amusement, I step forward to assist but Emma manages to quickly open the door properly and strides through before I can. When I hurry to follow her, I jolt to a halt when the door almost swings directly into my face. I roll my eyes in annoyance and push my hands against the glass to parade through. Some things never change.
For most of the walk home, Emma aimlessly chatters non-stop and I am not even listening to most of it. There have been a few times where I try to listen but all I can hear is Emma going on about Hook and how much he annoys her and what-not.
My mind is too distracted by the fact that Emma actually kissed me back there and I still can't bring myself to believe it. It was so unlike her. Then again, I recall a few times over the years the two of us had exchanged certain looks or our hands had come into contact and lingered there for a little too long. These are all things I would usually try to think nothing of, but after tonight, all those memories are flooding back to me.
I stare at the ground silently, my hands buried in my pockets. The wet pavement is glistening beautifully from the glow of the streetlights. At this point, I am beyond thankful the Charming's apartment is only up the street, other wise this walk could bring my thoughts anywhere the more time passes.
I'm usually never the one to think so much about things that are probably insignificant, at least I try not to show it on the outside. I think about how I've never actually seen Emma drunk throughout all the years we've known each other, and feel almost privileged to have such an experience, as odd as that sounds. Emma is quite entertaining. And I'm sure she doesn't get drunk with just anyone.
While Emma is ranting and the two of us are strolling side by side, she manages to cross one foot in front of the other a little too far and accidentally stumbles into me. My arm naturally reaches out behind her in fear that she might fall, but the girl ends up just leaning into me for a few brief seconds.
Not even realizing it, Emma speaks nothing of it and continues contemplating her relationship with Hook. Or- past relationship. So much for 'not thinking about him.'
A couple of seconds later, I suddenly realize where my arm is and bring it back down to my side, clearing my throat. I hadn't even noticed I had done it, it was just instinct. I silently curse to myself for being so protective over Emma without even trying. I'm suddenly insecure about exactly how long I had my arm around her for and wonder if anybody saw.
I glance around but my eyes are met with nothing but the empty streets of Storybrooke. It's past midnight, after all, so I'm not exactly expecting to see anybody else out at this time. Still, the thought worries me for a reason I do not know.
What would people think if they saw us? The Saviour and the former Evil Queen? I scoff to myself at the ridiculous thought. That's definitely a page no one would see in any story book… right?
When we reach the apartment after a very long and thoughtful walk for me, Emma has finally quieted down, probably from becoming a lot more tired than she was before. She's lazily slumped against the wall as the two of us stand outside the apartment door.
After many years, I know the Charming's well enough to know that they keep the spare key under the door mat. How classic, I think, yet very predictable for them. Without even bothering to let Emma do it, I push the door open as quietly as possible then look at her expectantly.
Not a single light is on in the apartment, the bright glow from the hallway illuminating the room just enough for us to see inside.
"You think you can make it up the stairs?" I ask just above a whisper, half-joking.
Emma pushes herself off the wall and slowly struts past me, rolling her eyes. "Pfft, yeah."
I press my lips together at her expected over-confidence. "If you say so."
I figure my job here is done and begin to turn away, my hand gripping the doorknob. It's not even half way closed when I suddenly whip my head around at the sound of a loud commotion somewhere behind me.
It doesn't take long for my eyes to catch sight of a very confused looking Emma who appears to have walked directly into the railing at the bottom corner of the stairs, not even one step up yet. She has bent forward slightly and has her hands pressed against the post, still stumbling over her own feet.
"Dammit, Emma!" I curse in a harsh, frustrated whisper as I hurry over to the girl.
My prediction of Emma not being able to handle something as simple as stairs has proven to be true. I glance worriedly toward the bed under the stairs, seeing the frame of two familiar figures sound asleep. Hating the fact that this apartment has no damn rooms, I only hopes Emma's parents are heavy sleepers.
"Ow, that kind of hurt." She pouts, rubbing her arm with a pained expression on her face.
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on," I grip Emma's arm with both hands, gesturing for her to follow up the stairs. "I'll never let you forget that I once had to literally drag your ass up the stairs." I mutter quietly in irritation.
However, I can tell Emma is also trying very hard not to make a sound, even if she did loudly walk into the railing.
It feels like a lifetime before we finally reach the top and my heart is practically beating out of my chest by now. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm afraid we might wake up Emma's parents and then have to explain to them why the hell we were walking arm and arm into a drunk Emma's bedroom. I wonder if I would lie or not. Or would I even have to? I am clearly the innocent one here. I was just taking care of Emma like any decent friend should. That's not a crime, right?
Or maybe my heart is pounding because Emma and I had touched numerous times tonight and had our bodies basically brushing against each others all night. Well, maybe that's an overstatement but It's definitely not something I am used to, or something I expected.
God, I just want to go home and be alone so I can finally stop feeling so damn anxious.
Emma doesn't hesitate in swaying towards the bed and I presume it is probably because she's dying to drop dead somewhere. I've had that feeling before.
A small lamp in the far corner of the room had been left on, the two of us now able to clearly see each other's faces in the dim lighting.
I stop myself from walking any further into the room than I need to, not even all the way up the stairs yet. A part of me is afraid to. I have been up there before, just not when it was only Emma and I. I grip onto the railing, peering at the drowsy blonde who is staring down at the bed in front of her and has her back turned.
"Okay, you're good? I'll… see you tomorrow." I say, uncertain if it's a question or not.
Emma turns around to face me. Without giving her a chance to answer, I nod once and offer her a sad smile before turning away. I begin cautiously watching my feet to go down the stairs.
"Regina?" Emma stops me almost instantly, not bothering to whisper this time.
I freeze in my tracks and spin my head around to look at her expectantly.
"Thank you," she says, gazing at me with a warm smile. The expression on her face speaks a thousand words.
I stare back, surprised at the girl's sudden seriousness, yet beyond appreciative of the tender moment. I shake my head, confused as to why Emma thinks she needs to say that. "Yeah, of course. It's nothing," I hesitate for a moment, flashing my eyes from my feet then back to Emma. "Good night."
If anything, I am the one who is thankful: thankful that Emma made it back home safe, and that I was the one to do it.
With that, I find I have to mentally push myself to continue my trek down the stairs and out the front door.
I walk down the dark and quiet street toward my own home, my hands shoved into my jacket pockets and head hung low as if trying to hide myself, moving farther and farther away from where I want to be.
THE NEXT MORNING
I breathe in the crisp morning air and feel the slight breeze brush through my hair as I walk down the sidewalk, passing the same buildings and the same familiar faces I am so used to seeing. I go for morning walks alone whenever I have the chance to for the sole purpose of taking my mind off anything I need to. Although, it's been quite some time since I had the privilege considering I am always involved in keeping Storybrooke safe and the people in it. In fact, it may have even been a year. Maybe more. But today I just feel perfectly… happy.
Although I am completely hungover, I would never let that show on the outside. I didn't get much sleep, but I still washed my hair and put on my high heel boots to start the day even though I have almost no energy on the inside. Still, nobody has a clue what Emma and I were up to the night before. Except for the few people that had been in the diner but none of them seemed like they even cared we were there. I do know for a fact that nobody saw us after we left, and I like that.
While observing the townspeople that walk on the street across from me, saying hello to each other and looking almost as delighted as I feel, I spot an unmistakable blonde figure walking in the distance in front of me, and coming directly toward me.
Emma is looking down at her phone with her other hand stuffed into her jacket pocket, clearly not noticing my presence. Her hair is tied into a messy ponytail and she's wearing her brown leather jacket with black jeans and boots.
"Hey," I greet her with a bright smile as she approaches. My voice comes out sounding a lot more overjoyed than I want it to, but then again I don't really mind. I am happy to see her.
Emma instantly perks her head up at me, snapping back into reality. "Oh, hey, Regina!" she returns a friendly grin, seeming pleased to see me as well.
We stop in front of each other and I ask, "how are you feeling?"
Her eyebrows raise into her hairline, smirking. "Honestly, very hungover." She shifts her weight and shoves her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
I chuckle at her bluntness. "Yes, I could very much say the same."
"Well, you look a lot better than me, that's for sure." Emma tilts her head, smiling warmly.
I bite my bottom lip, failing to hide my flattered grin at Emma's implied compliment.
"I admit I did need a good drinking after yesterday, though. I've been all over the place lately." Emma continues quickly, not seeming to notice my subtle reaction.
I recall the night before, realizing that Emma said the same thing after she kissed me. I wonder if Emma feels any different since then, or if either of us were even going to bring it up.
"I know." I respond, "It was… nice to be away from everything for once."
Emma chuckles, agreeing. "No wicked witches or underworld gods, right?" she asks sarcastically.
"No, none of that. Thankfully." I laugh, noticing how ridiculous that sounds, even though those are literally the types of things to expect in this town.
"Good." Emma replies, then uncomfortably readjusts her stance. "God, everything aches right now and I don't even know why."
Unable to formulate words, I squint my eyes and tilt my head in confusion.
Emma notices my expression and clarifies, "Well, Just my head. and my stomach isn't feeling too great either if I'm honest with you."
"You don't know why?" I ask, curious.
Emma sighs heavily. "Yeah, I'm kind of terrible when it comes to remembering things when I get drunk. Plus, I hadn't had that much in a long time so I guess it hit me pretty hard."
I stutter, trying to understand. "So you don't remember anything?" My voice is slow and uncertain, finding Emma's confession to be a terrible coincidence.
"Not really, just that you and I were taking shots in the diner, then…" She looks up, trying desperately to remember, then she shrugs her shoulders in defeat. "I don't know, everything after that was much pretty much a blur." She says. "I'm guessing I walked home. Considering I can see my car all the way from here." She nods her head toward the diner and I look over my shoulder to see her bug in the distance, exactly where I told her to leave it. "Probably a wise choice."
I face her again and stare for a few lingering moments, stunned. I'm not even sure how I feel about her not remembering, so all I can manage to say is, "Yeah, um, you did."
Emma creases her brows at my almost speechless reaction. "Oh man, I did something embarrassing, didn't I?" Her eyes suddenly trail along the ground. "I always do that." She mutters to herself frustratingly.
"No, no, you didn't." I interject quickly, not wanting Emma to believe that is true. Nothing she did could have been embarrassing, not even the part when she drunkenly kissed me. I try to smile.
"Oh," Emma says, pausing. "Is there something I should remember, then?" Her eyes stare into mine expectantly, looking almost scared to hear the answer.
Multiple thoughts flood through my mind at once. I recall the night before and the fact that Emma didn't even remember most of it. Should I tell her? How would Emma react to that? What if telling her would make her all embarrassed or maybe even regretful? I can't bare the thought of Emma not wanting to ever talk to me again because of it.
It doesn't even sound believable. 'Yeah, um, you apparently don't remember this but you kissed me and I kind of liked it.' Like that wouldn't be the most awkward thing to ever say to someone.
Emma is staring at me expectantly and once again, I can't bring myself to think of the words. I blink, then inhale deeply.
"No," I smile pleasantly. "Nothing at all." Years of practice of being the Evil Queen disguised as the Mayor has allowed me to make anything look believable, no matter what I am feeling inside. It's like my expertise. I shrug in an attempt to convince her further. "That's pretty much all that happened, really."
I brace myself to hear Emma say something expected like 'you can't lie to me, Regina,' or 'my superpower is telling me otherwise', but she doesn't, and I'm not sure if I am happy about that or not.
Emma eyes me suspiciously, clearly unable to read my expression, but my smile is unbreaking. Seeming to sense that something is wrong, Emma looks like she is debating whether to push the subject farther, then she sighs and decides to change it instead. "Okay, well… my breakfast order should be ready by now." She pushes up her sleeve to glance at her watch.
"Of course," I agree with a wide grin. "Don't want it to get cold." I remember the fact that Emma goes to Granny's every morning at exactly 8:30am, cursing myself for even knowing that.
"You only make that mistake once." Emma grins, then sends me a warm and assuring look. "Last night was fun, though."
I nod.
"I'll talk to you later, okay?" Emma says, beginning to take a few small steps backwards.
Our eyes are locked for a few warm moments before Emma purses her lips and brushes swiftly past me, continuing her route towards the diner.
Motionless, I finally allow my smile to loosen. I stare at the ground in front of me before looking over my shoulder at Emma who's already at the end of the street. I turn forward again and exhale, forcing myself out of my trance.
All the joy I felt earlier has suddenly been buried deep down and I now carry a frown with me as I continue my path down the sidewalk, Emma and I walking in opposite directions and moving farther away from each other instead of closer. I wonder how I can face her again after that and act casual, knowing that Emma is completely oblivious to the same thing I know I won't be able to stop thinking about, no matter how hard I try.