Ok so this chapter is a little odd. I was going through all my fics that I've not published and I came across the poem I used in this chapter. I wrote it in high school (about 6 years ago?) and it was originally published on fiction press but I figured I could find a way to incorporate it here. I may post it individually as well, I'm not sure. I used to love writing little haiku's when I was bored and so why not share the dumb ideas of a 15 year old. I will make the next chapter fit around the storyline.

January 24th 2017

Gina,

So here's something you never knew about me. I used to like writing poetry. It was always based off emotion, and I guess since you started teaching me magic I haven't needed a way to express myself, so haven't written much since, but I was looking through some of my old notebooks that I kept at the station and I found one that I wrote about you when you started dating that thief…

I feel safe in the knowledge that you will never read it, so I figured I would just stick it in this little journal thing. Reading it again it made me realise how much my life has changed because of you, how much it has changed for the better

Are you surprised I've managed to keep it going this long? Because I am. I think that's down to you though. Instead of poetry I just want to share my feelings with you and so I kept writing. I promise though, one day it will all make sense. I'm going to post it here so that I can look at it when I'm feeling… well just feeling, and can think about how much things have changed over the last few years.

This is called 'You' and I wrote it when I got back from New York after the missing year and I first saw you with Robin…

Thinking about it
I never thought I'd find love
Until I met you

When I first saw you
You made my heart skip a beat
I knew I was yours

I saw you again
After a long year apart
I came back for you

It hurt, what I saw.
You, in another man's arms
You looked so happy

As long as you're safe
I can be happy for you
You deserve the best

Until I met you
I never thought I'd find love
I guess I was right.

I know. It sounds ridiculously sappy, but I'd had a crush on you since the moment you first glared at me, and I always hoped. I guess I stupidly assumed that one day you'd feel the same way I did, yet when you were with him you glowed, and I gave up on dreaming.

It seems that it wasn't so stupid an assumption. Not that I'm saying you feel the way I do. But you kissed me and you meant it…

Gah I had the stupidest smile on my face when I wrote that. I'm feeling all mushy again.

I just want to tell you to get back from work Gina, so I can kiss you again.

Love Em.

Emma sighed as she closed the diary, squishing it under the sofa cushions where she figured Regina would not find it. The couple had watched the movie in silence and then fallen asleep on the sofa together. Regina had been gone when Emma woke that next morning, having left a note to tell the blonde she was going to work. Emma had gone to the station early, noting that her father had left a note for Leroy, her replacement for the day that he was out on a call-out and would grab coffee on his way back.

Emma had grabbed a box of her items she'd left in the corner of sheriff's office when she was sure she'd be in Boston for a lot longer and was out of the door before anyone returned. She'd spent some time back at Regina's going through the box, looking for the notebook that she needed for when she returned to Boston. Rummaging through that box she'd found her old notebook of poems, and one thing she'd never show anyone, song lyrics, before storing the box in the cupboard of the guest room. She had no idea why she was avoiding running the risk of being seen by someone, but figured she just wanted to spend a little more time in a happy little bubble with Regina.

Gasping suddenly at the ache in her abdomen, Emma resolved to ask Regina to heal the wound when she returned, and determined she would have to explain why she felt she couldn't have done it herself.

I know, I know. Dates all out of whack. Blame my surgeon for stabbing me numerous times with needles and making me too achey to write.