A/N: Just an itty-bitty ficlet. Decided that I liked this one enough to bring it over from Tumblr and give it a more permanent home.
"We did good."
Once upon a time, the we part of that statement would have made her want to tear the world apart, but that time has long since passed. Instead, she turns to Emma and smiles. "We did indeed," she says, before turning back to watch the stage, where her not-so-little prince, their son, is receiving his degree. Emma is snapping pictures as though the moment will cease to exist unless every microsecond is captured on film, and Regina is applauding until her hands are red and tingling, verging on numb. Her heart feels almost too big for her chest, and she wonders what it would look like if she reached in and plucked it out right now.
As Henry walks off the stage, Regina slides her hand into Emma's, knitting their fingers together, and she can feel the moment of surprised hesitation, before she feels Emma return her grip, strong and sure. Their shoulders are just touching, Emma's bare in the dress that Regina helped her pick out, and Regina thinks that she could happily stay like this forever.
They've never really spoken about what's between them, or what could be. At first, it had been all about necessity, unwelcome, thrust upon them by circumstance. But it's long since stopped being about outside forces pushing them together, and now it's about the pull between them. It's still a necessity, for Regina, at least. But now it's a necessity arising out of thrice-weekly shared dinners, of two bottles of wine on a Saturday night, of comfortable silences and shared glances and feelings that Regina has not been brave enough to give voice to.
But here, a thousand miles from Storybrooke, watching their son stride forth into the world, she's suddenly feeling brave and she's feeling the press of time more and more urgently. After standing still for so long, time is rushing onwards and onwards, the world spinning faster and faster. When she looks in the mirror, she sees new lines forming on a face that stayed young for an eternity and there are carefully-dyed strands of grey hiding in the dark of her hair. Her son, a small slip of a boy, is now a man, tall and strong, with a voice that rumbles like a distant storm. And she has to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes, and when he hugs her, the skin of his jaw is rough against her cheek.
Regina knows that Henry is the force that keeps her heart beating, has been for the longest time. But at some point, Emma joined him there and she knows that if she lost either of them, the effect would be the same.
Their hands are still intertwined, and Regina leans in closer, resting her head on Emma's shoulder. Emma stiffens momentarily before relaxing and resting her cheek against the crown of Regina's head. Regina smiles.
She doesn't want to waste any more of this precious time.