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Regina ambles her way towards the apple tree in the garden, feeling a delicious buzz from the wine she'd had with dinner. She feels light, and happy, and hopeful, because it's been a long two weeks since she's seen Robin and she misses him.

She'd missed him the entire time she had been at the summer palace, had wished more than once while she'd been sitting alone on her balcony, overlooking the lush forest and mountains that surrounded the palace, that he could be there with her. That he could be there, sitting by her side, gazing with her at the twinkling of the millions of stars visible above the summer palace that were hidden by the light pollution of the city. Each night that she'd sat alone on her balcony, she'd found herself daydreaming about him, concocting different scenarios, running imaginary conversations through her head. Had imagined that he'd reach for her hand, kiss it again like he had on her birthday, his stubble against her smooth skin sending shivers through her, then he'd pull her close…place a kiss on her lips…run his fingers through her hair…caress her cheek with his thumb. Or she'd be leaning on the railing of her balcony, chin resting in her palm, aching for him to relieve her loneliness, to appear like magic, to wrap his strong arms around her waist, to press kisses to her neck as she'd lean her head back into his shoulder, placing her own hands on top of his, then turning back to face him, taking her hand in his, leading him back into her room to her bed…

The air is cool, nipping at her bare arms, but it's refreshing after the warmth of the ballroom. She stumbles, almost rolls her ankle when she steps on a chestnut on the ground. Oops.

She reaches the little patio area with her apple tree in middle, sits down on the bench that surrounds the tree, and pulls out her phone to check for Robin's reply.

I'll be right there, milady.

Regina grins, pleased, puts her phone away and waits for the man with the lion tattoo. He can't be far behind her.

The patio is surrounded by ten foot hedges, with only one entrance, just off the garden's overgrown, dilapidated maze. The patio is circled with garden lights, casting a hazy glow in the darkness of the night. The perfect place for a secret meeting.

It's been barely a minute since she's put her phone away when she hears soft footfalls on the mossy cobblestone path of the maze.

She stands, and she can't help her grin when she sees the dimpled reporter. He's smiling at her, but it doesn't reach his eyes and there's something in the set of his jaw that makes her think something's upset him.

That wipes the grin off her face. No, this isn't how this is supposed to go.

"What is it, Robin?"

He stops a few metres away from her, shakes his head as he rubs a hand across his chin. He looks pissed. She can't help but think that he's upset with her, that maybe he's annoyed because of the commanding tone of her text, that he's angry that she's pulling him away from his job, and she feels a flare of irritation cutting through her buzz because if that's the case then he'd just have to say so, she'd understand,and she's opening her mouth to tell him that but he explodes before she has a chance.

"I just - it's just - the King just gave a speech in there that will be shared with the entire country - and - and he just can't seem to fucking move on from Eva and he acted like you weren't even there, like you didn't exist, and now he's dancing with the Princess, when he's supposed to be dancing with you - and - and it's so disrespectful to you and I just - the King doesn't - he doesn't realize what he's got right in front of him."

Oh.

So he's not upset with her. He's mad at Leopold for ignoring her.

And usually she'd be a little upset at having been ignored in public too, but being ignored tonight doesn't bring the usual feelings of rejection and embarrassment, because it means she can sneak away to see Robin. Which she would much rather be doing than dancing with Leo.

She sits back down, the fabric of her dress falling around her thigh, leaving it exposed to the night air. She doesn't move to cover it.

"Do you honestly think I'd have snuck out of the ball to be here, with you, if the King and I had a happy marriage? If it was anything but a ridiculous farce?"

His jaw goes slack at that, he's staring at her with surprise, awe, and something else...

"It's not love," Regina sighs. "God knows we can barely tolerate each other. I'm 24, Robin. He's 53. We have nothing in common. Eva was the love of his life; he'll never be able to love another ever again. He told me that on our wedding night."

"Then - why did you get married?"

She rolls her eyes, huffs, the familiar rage and resentment bubbling up deep inside her. She's definitely not tipsy anymore.

"Snow was following me around like a puppy dog after I saved her from the barn fire, prattling on about me endlessly to her father. She told him how much she admired me, how much she wished I was part of their family, how much she wished for a mother like me after her own had passed away. My age didn't matter, because Leo's incapable of denying his 'precious angel' of anything, so when he proposed, my mother accepted." She mimics her mother's condescending tone. "Regina, dear, one does not simply refuse the King."

"God, I hate him," he bites. But then she hears him sigh, and he's moving to sit down beside her, the warmth of his thigh pressing against her bare one. Regina turns to face him.

"And -," his voice is quiet, barely even a whisper. "And, me? Why did you decide to sneak out here to meet me?"

She smiles. "Because I missed you." She reaches for his right hand, but the cuff of his dress shirt covers his lion tattoo. "And I feel quite drawn to you." She creeps her index finger under his sleeve, strokes the skin on the inside of his wrist over his tattoo, delighting in the stuttered breath he lets out in response to her touch. "And I haven't been able to think of much else but you for the past two weeks, really."

She looks up at him from beneath her lashes, and she can't help the flare of exhilaration she feels, because he looks so...breathless, and affected by her words, by her touch, his jaw slack and his eyes roaming over her face, coming to rest on her lips.

"Did you miss me?" she asks coyly, her face gravitating closer to his.

His eyes move from her lips to her eyes. For a moment neither of them seem to be able to breathe.

But then Robin's eyes flick down to her lips again, back up to her eyes. "Madly," he whispers.

She smirks, "Good," and then she leans forward, closing the distance between them, bringing her mouth to meet his, eyes fluttering closed.

But just before her lips are on his, he's pulling away, disentangling his hand from her grasp.

It wounds her, and she can't help the expression of hurt painted across her face as she opens her eyes and watches him stand, walk a few paces away from her. Her thigh is cold where his body was keeping it warm just moments ago.

She feels the familiar pull of rejection creep up inside her. She wants to cry. It's all in my head. The stupid fortune teller was a phony.

"Regina." He says her name softly, his back to her. "We can't."

"Forget it," she murmurs, "This was a mistake." She stands, walks on shaky legs across the patio, back to the palace. Back to sitting by herself, alone, in a room crammed with people, all following the King's lead and ignoring her, back to having to watch as everyone else dances, as everyone else lives their lives, happy, free. Tears sting at the back of her eyes.

Robin stops her with a hand on her wrist. "Regina." She doesn't turn around.

"I - I want to kiss you. So badly." His voice is so soft, she has to strain to hear him. She turns to look at him then, hope surging back into her. He has a conflicted expression on his face, his blue eyes staring back into her brown ones.

"But?"

"But - you're married."

She scoffs. "Not willingly."

"And I'm a reporter. It's my job to write articles about you, about the King, and - and - ethically, I'm not sure -"

Regina moves towards him, stops in front of him.

"Was it ethical when you came to visit me at the palace on my birthday? When you had to lie to the guards about why you were here?"

"I don't -"

Her voice is more forceful this time. "Is it ethical for you to keep my cell number, to use it to text me whenever you want?"

He's shaking his head. "No -"

"So we've already gone past the point of what's ethical."

He nods, his eyebrows furrowing, and then he lets out a deep sigh, his eyes falling shut for a moment.

"You're right." He swallows, his eyes never leaving hers, and then, "I - I've - I've never felt like this. I feel this deep connection to you, Regina, and I want - I want to be with you. To kiss you and make you laugh, and be there for you when you need it and I'd like to take you on a date like we're just normal people in our twenties but it's killing me that I can't - that you're already taken - "

He breaks off, shaking his head, eyebrows pinched.

Regina places her hands on his chest, index fingers moving over his lapel in small circles. She keeps her eyes focused on his bow-tie as she says, "Can we just - let's just pretend the King doesn't exist for a moment? That I'm not the Queen, that you're not a royal reporter, that it's just us, two people in their twenties who care about each other, here, right now?"

He's smiling down at her now, eyes gone soft. "You care about me too?"

Regina rolls her eyes, gently pushes at his shoulder with one of the hands on his lapel. "I tried to kiss you, didn't I?"

He steps closer to her, wraps his arms around her, his hands coming to rest at the small of her back.

It feels like home. It's a feeling that she hasn't had since Daniel, at least not in her waking hours - in her dreams, well, that's a different story.

She moves her hands to his biceps, brushes her fingertips against his muscles, smiles up at him.

For the first time in a long while, she feels safe.

And then, finally, he kisses her.

...

It's dangerous, oh so dangerous, here on the palace grounds where a guard might walk by on patrol, or spot them over the hedges from his station on the roof of the palace. His career is on the line, his reputation is on the line, and who knows what would happen to Regina if someone saw them. Who knows what the King would do. What the public would say.

He's knows it's dangerous, he knows they shouldn't be doing this, not here, not now, not when she's the Queen, but it just feels so right and Robin doesn't understand it, but he finds he never wants to let Regina go. Not when he's doing something he'd never allowed himself to hope he would do.

He's kissing Regina. And she's kissing him right back. Enthusiastically.

Regina moves her hands from his arms to wind them around his neck and his arms move to hold her closer to him. He strokes her back over the fabric of her dress with one hand, while the other moves up to twine a strand of her hair around his finger.

Regina's tongue swipes gently across Robin's bottom lip, and he parts his lips to deepen the kiss. They stand there for a few moments kissing deeply.

Her lips taste like wine.

When the lack of air becomes too much, they part, and as Regina draws her lips from his, she nuzzles her nose against his. Robin plants a sloppy kiss on her face at that, somewhere on her cheek between her mouth and her nose, relishing in the breathy chuckle she lets out at that.

Robin rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed, as their breathing evens out.

"Will you dance with me?"

His eyes snap open at her quiet request. Their foreheads are no longer touching, and her hands are grasping his wrists, his hands gently cupping her face. She's beaming at him, eyebrows raised in silent question. "Not back there, I mean - here."

He grins back at her. He still can't quite believe that she cares about him the way he cares about her.

They're far enough away from the palace that they can't hear the orchestra through the open doors and windows. "There's nothing I'd want more, milady, but I'm afraid there's no music."

She gently moves his hands away from her face with the hands on his wrists, turns and walks back to the bench around the apple tree to pick up her phone. She turns back to him, waving the phone slightly in her hand.

"It's not exactly waltz-y music -"

He chuckles. "Good. Because I don't know how to waltz."

Her face falls for a moment, and she murmurs something that sounds like, "Neither do I."

It's odd, that. That a Queen doesn't know how to ballroom dance, but then he supposes that if the King prefers to dance with his daughter rather than his wife at the biggest ball of the year, maybe it's because she's never had the chance to learn. And she's young, so young, just like him, and who really knows how to waltz these days anyway?

He walks over to stand beside her, takes her hand in his, runs his thumb over the back of her hand in a caress and watches as her other hand scrolls through her phone. Her lips curl up in a small smile, and she taps the screen, puts the volume to the maximum, and sets the phone back down on the bench.

The strum of a guitar fills the night air, and Robin recognizes Ed Sheeran's voice instantly, if not the song.

He chuckles at the first line. "You do look wonderful in that dress." He reaches for her then, places his hands at her waist as she winds her arms around his neck.

She whispers softly back to him. "And your eyes are as blue as the Tenerife Sea."

There's something in her bottomless dark eyes, the way she's looking up at him, and the softness of her voice that has a deep emotion - like indescribable happiness, maybe, he thinks, or sheer gratefulness that this wonderful woman seems to be as taken with him as he is with her - swelling up within him. He gently tugs her closer, places a kiss at her temple affectionately.

The music is soft, quiet, only as loud as the phone's speakers' will allow, but it's enough for the two of them. They move slowly from side - to - side, swaying together to Ed Sheeran.

Regina's cheek is against his shoulder now, and he tilts his head to rest his cheek on top of her head and -

"Ow!" The tip of the diamond on the tallest point of her tiara has jabbed him right in the cheek.

She lifts her head off his shoulder, winces up at him in apology. "Sorry. I'd take it off but - forty-five minutes, a half-bottle of hairspray, and about fifty bobby-pins later, it's not going anywhere."

Robin chuckles, murmurs "S'alright. I quite like the way you look in a tiara."

He watches as she bites her lip, and he thinks she's about to say something back, but then she leans forward again to rest her cheek against his shoulder, her face turned in towards his neck. He can feel her breath there, against the skin of his neck as she lets out a contented sigh. He closes his eyes, tries to capture this moment, to remember it and hold it forever. The way her body moulds into his, the way her fingers are swirling a pattern at the base of his skull sending little shocks straight to his toes.

Regina doesn't move when the song comes to an end, instead stays in his arms, swaying, while her phone makes the transition from Ed Sheeran to Adele's crooning voice.

He wonders if it's a coincidence that one song perfect for a romantic slow dance plays immediately after the first, or if she has a playlist set up. He thinks of her, all alone in the palace, trapped in a loveless marriage, listening to a playlist of slow love songs, and it makes him pull her closer, though there'd been less than a centimetre between them before, makes him want her to feel his love, even if it's too soon to say those words to her.

...

She'd never thought she'd have this.

She'd never thought she'd have this ever again, not after the way Daniel had been taken away from her so cruelly, so tragically.

Regina thinks back to how adamant she had been that she could never imagine a future without Daniel, a future where she didn't love him. But she'd had to imagine one, because he's gone, dead and buried, and she'd imagined that a future without Daniel would mean a future without love.

But here, in Robin's arms, swaying together as Adele sings softly in the background, his heart beating fast against her chest, she feels something blooming within her, and it seems too soon to call it love, but deep down she knows that's what it is.

She's falling in love with the man with the lion tattoo.

She knows it's ridiculous, maybe a little pathetic even, for someone to fall so easily. But being with Robin is so easy. So right. He doesn't seem to expect anything of her, doesn't want her to be someone she's not, doesn't want her to change to please him, only wants her to be Regina. And if the fortune teller is right, if Robin is her soul mate - and she really feels that he might be, and who'd've thought that she would put so much weight behind the words of a town fair fortune teller - if they are destined to be together, if it's written in the stars, than what she feels make sense, doesn't it?

It makes her happy - he makes her happy. And lord knows she could use that in her life right now. She could use him in her life right now.

And so she stays there, in his arms, as her playlist of slow and romantic songs plays into the night, and thinks it's a miracle that nothing has disturbed them, that no one has come looking for her.

Her head still rests against his shoulder, but their feet aren't moving anymore, they're just swaying together. She moves her face closer to his neck, presses a kiss there, just above his collar, feels his rough stubble against the softness of her cheek, listens to his hum of appreciation as one of his hands coasts up and down her back.

Maybe something's watching over them, glad that they've found their way to each other.

It's a silly thought, she thinks, one more suited to her stepdaughter than her, but who knows what's going to happen after tonight, what their future will hold, so, for now, she's perfectly happy to just have this.

And she hopes that if something is watching over them, that it'll prevent everything from crashing down around her later.

Your reviews make me smile, please keep them coming! :D

Also, it'll probably take longer for the next update.