OQPromptParty #132: Regina watching Robin sleep the morning after the vault before she gets up and dressed.
Regina wakes with a start, jumping slightly when her hand reaches out and meets warm, solid flesh. Her eyes snap open and for a moment she is a little disorientated. She's naked; is covered by a fur blanket, and the air around her is cold. She is most definitely not in her bedroom, wrapped in a duvet and warmed by central heating. And she is most definitely not alone.
Regina turns her head and memories of last night come flooding back to her as she finds herself smiling at the sleeping thief beside her. She turns from her back to her side to face him, tucking one arm under her hip as the other tentatively reaches out to touch him, but she stops herself. She doesn't want to risk waking him when he looks so peaceful. So she will just look for now, touch later, but not too much. (Maybe too much).
What they did last night was wrong, so wrong, but Gods it felt so right. And even this morning she cannot convince herself otherwise. Especially not when he looks so content. The crease has lifted from his brow, his forehead is smooth and no longer decorated with worry lines, and if he's smiling a little in his sleep, well, Regina would like to think that she's the reason behind that too.
She's still smiling, can't help it, not even when she clamps her teeth down onto her bottom lip to try and hide it some. He makes her happy, Gods, he makes her so happy and even though she knows that after this morning they will have to go back to reality, she can't help but feel joyous that this happened. She has missed touching him, feeling his warmth, his muscles, the way his chest raises sharply under her fingers as her other hand is elsewhere doing other more daring things. She has missed kissing him. She missed the way his lips felt pressed against hers, the softness of his tongue, the warmth of his breath.
He's breathing softly now, deeply. She can't help but wonder what he's dreaming. Nothing too much, she concludes, he's still and calm and breathing steadily.
Regina scooches closer to him, so that she can admire him more closely and smiles when he does not stir an inch. But she can't help herself, really, she can't, as she reaches out and curls her fingers around Robin's broad neck, her eyes watching his as they flicker but do not open. So her grip grows more confident, her fingers splaying and sliding up through his short hair. He's warm beneath her palm, the little splattering of hair at the base of his neck tickling her wrist as she softly strokes the back of his head. She loves having the freedom to do so.
She wants to kiss him (she won't) as his lips tempt her, soft, plump and a little rouged from last night. She wonders if he still tastes like her.
He lets out a soft sound then, not quite a snore and not quite a murmur, and Regina has to try not to laugh. He really is out for the count. But can she blame him? Last night was long, ascended into the early hours of this morning and if Regina had to guess the time she'd say she's only surviving on a couple hours sleep. It was worth it, though.
The vault filters in very little daylight from the entrance, but it's enough for Regina to see Robin better than she could last night. The candles have burnt out around them, leaving small piles of layered wax glued onto the stone pigeon holes. It's nothing a little magic can't clean up.
There's a slight draft and it catches Regina's bare toes suddenly, making her become acutely aware that they are poking out from beneath the blanket (Robin has hogged nearly the whole damn thing) and she thinks should probably get up before she gets any cooler, put some clothes on. People are probably wondering where she is.
Well, they will have to wait.
Wanting nothing more than to nestle up close to the naked outlaw beside her, Regina forces herself out from beneath the fur blanket and hisses when her bare feet hit the cold stone floor. Instantly her nipples harden as she shivers violently at the drastic change in temperature but she powers on, slipping from the bed and grabbing her clothing from the floor (it's everywhere, creased and dusty now, completely unwearable. They weren't very cautious last night).
Robin stirs at her absence, reaching out for something (Regina hopes it's her, knows it's her) before frowning when he's left empty-handed, so he pulls the blanket tighter around him instead.
Regina sighs, waving her hand and lighting the room in a soft glow in which she can manoeuvre around properly. She heads to the mirror, eyes wide when she catches the first glimpse at herself. Her hair's a mess and her eyes are rimmed with the mascara she forwent taking off last night. Thank goodness she was the one to wake first. So she grabs a hairbrush, and a piece of cotton wool (to wipe away the smudges) from the vanity before heading to the wardrobe beside it.
She keeps a few spare changes of clothes in her vault, never knows when she may have to seek refuge here down here, for safety… or privacy. She picks out what is to hand before hugging the clothes close to her body for warmth and then the brunette tiptoes out of the room and into the hallway where she can get dressed in private.
She's just finished sliding on her pumps when the sound of footsteps can be heard and she turns her head to smile somewhat shyly at the thief who approaches her. "Look who's finally woken up."