Title: Tale X
Prompt: "Crowds"
Character(s): Emma Swann, Henry Mills
"Do you like the Sheriff?" The question, innocent in its implication, was enough to make her choke on her hot chocolate. The burning liquid ran down her throat and into the confines of the tiny space between her turtleneck and her skin. She sat the cup down and made a hasty attempt to rescue her skin from premature burning, dabbing her neck with a spare napkin. Henry stared back at her in curiosity, the ghost of a grin playing on his lips as he chewed idly on his twizzler.
Once Emma was certain that her skin was safeguarded from hot chocolate related burns, she pressed her fist against the smooth marble counter and stared straight into the mischievous eyes of her charge. "Pardon me?" She asked, even though she knew exactly what he said.
"I said, do you like the Sheriff? You know, Mr. Graham of the police department?" Henry repeated himself. "Do you have feelings for him?" Emma took a moment to watch the entirely too calm movements of the little boy across from her as he took a small sip from his cup of hot chocolate and shifted his attention over to the busy crowds of people on the ice rink. Was this what Regina had to put with before her arrival? Completely random questions that appeared to have no overarching reason beyond simply being asked?
Did she like Mr. Sheriff Graham?
Did she like a man she'd met barely a month ago since attempting to escort Mr. Trouble maker (sitting across from her) back to his house of horrors? Did she like a man whom she rarely interacted with outside of dire situations, often surrounding Henry, that rarely said anything unless it pertained to the mettle of Regina the Queen of Evil or his vaguely described skills as a tracker of all things human or otherwise noted? Did she like the man that often went along with Regina's plans despite disagreeing with them?
Leaning forward, she tapped the boy on the shoulder, bringing his attention away from the happy people on the ice over to her less amused expression. "Let me ask you something first; what even brought the idea of me liking Mr. Sheriff up, kid?" She was genuinely curious and needed to know. Henry's eyes traveled around in a circle as he mulled over the question for a total of five seconds. With all the eloquence of a seven year old boy, he shrugged. "I dunno, I just figured you might. I mean, you look "cute" together." And almost a second after he uttered the sentence, he suddenly found the water ring on the table interesting.
That looked like it hurt to say, she thought to herself.
"Okay, first off, let's just make something clear; I'm not in the market for a boyfriend and I don't need you causing anymore trouble by playing the misinformed matchmaker. Also-" She raised a finger, cutting off what looked to be an eager reply, "-Don't ever assume that I or anyone could have feelings for someone because of how they look. That's how romance works, not in the real world."
"It works for celebrities."
"God, that's exactly why it doesn't work, Henry," She mused. "Most of the people probably aren't in love, most of them. In either case it's not right to assume."
"I wasn't trying to, I just... did, is all," Henry defended meekly.
"Yeah, well, don't," Emma huffed. "Not about that, not until you're at least thirteen."
"I'm seven years old, that's old enough."
In spite of her mood, she smiled at him. "Yeah, we'll see in about ten years," Emma grinned.