"What is your favorite memory of Alice?"
When asked publicly that, Robin would jokingly reply that it was when she trapped Alice in a cage, having mistaken her for a spy during the days of the Rebellion. It would usually get a response of a half hearted chuckle or heightened interest of how that story continued from the asker. Most definitely, if she was with Alice in company or earshot distance of the gal, her shoulder would suffer a light nudge or her heart an immortal wound from deathly glares as consequences of her consistent answer to that exact question. The archer found it most amusing as she could tease the adventurer with their meet cute, worded in a way that sounded absolutely unromantic.
Of course, it was nothing more than a game of pretend with that answer and those actions. Anyone who spent five minutes with them could tell the two were in love. Despite having been together for years, they found themselves still finding out new things about each other and flirting like teenagers.
Privately in her head, Robin found herself unable to locate her favorite memory of Alice. Her mind would reel back to their time stuck in the tavern holding cell, sharing their life stories with one another, or to time spent exploring interests and ideas of travel in the quaint bookstore they spent their first date at. Her heart wavered in courage at how sweet those moments could truly be as the betrayals on both ends that came after the idyllic moments weren't the best to boot. However, it didn't matter as she pondered whether one of those must be her favorite.
She mentally shook her head. If anything, Robin pinpointed that her love for Alice weren't primary things that could be written in a storybook that anyone could tell. They were the tiny things, trivial bits that couldn't mean much logically, but were soothing for the heart against traces of doubt that outlined any relationship, even the few in theirs.
For one, it was the touch of a warm hand when scared or cold, determining the other's support to wordlessly say "I'm here" and "We'll get through it together." In larger measures, it was the embrace of a hug, comforting love resonating in the best and worst of situations, especially when feeling overwhelmed or alone, bodies desperately clinging on to each other for dear life.
Robin always found herself happily surprised that Alice could find a way to make her laugh, even when she was a sobbing mess, worried that they'd never see each other again due to the curse, or as stupid as it sounded, upset over a trivial thing like messing up cooking macaroni and cheese. Her loving blue-eyed blondie, despite never having known of such a recipe until she had been cursed as Tilly, managed to make it better from scratch than the green eyed bartender who had grown up in modern day Storybrooke. There was always a thing about the mixture of cheeses or timing of the pasta that she could never get right, but it didn't matter so long as they were doing it together, Alice constantly teasing her about it as they stirred the delicious and gooey contents in a pot.
Another way was how sweet a kiss could be. An endearment on the lips was what a person would typically think of and indeed, Alice's lips usually were delicious for Robin to kiss with the shorter woman having a penchant for sweets such as marmalade, jam tarts, and on special occasions, candy apples. Yet, Robin found herself remembering how Alice had kissed her on the forehead when she presumed the lover was asleep, on her hand whenever they had to part for more than a minute to bid adieu, and ever so often, on her cheek with just the lightest of pecks, a tenderness that lasted on the bespectacled dirty blonde in the form of a blush. The best kind of kisses were ones she thought were just left to childhood. As a kid, if her mom were to give her these, she would yell out in embarrassment and roll her eyes to divert from the cringe, but coming from Alice, she didn't mind a bit. Whenever Robin got the rare bruise or cut from being reckless, Alice loved to tend to her wound if she could do anything about it, ending it with a small kiss to the painful spot and a blessing of quick healing. It didn't make a difference physically, but when questioned, Robin replied with a smile that it didn't hurt anymore.
There was also the matter of Alice's expressions. Honestly, if Robin had a nickel for every time she was amused by her girlfriend, she'd have over five dollars. Okay, she wouldn't be rich by any means, but in experiences she'd have a sparkling collage of rich expressions. The archer was entranced by her gorgeous partner and took the opportunity to take photos of Alice no matter where they were. Robin thanked her lucky stars for the modern technology of smartphones, with their high definition cameras that fit right into a pocket. With it, she could document the way the girl's freckles aligned across her cheek, how Alice's ocean eyes sparkled bright and full of energy, and the radiant smile that came after an infectious laugh. Some of the archer's favorite snapshots were of the adventurer excitedly chasing small waves on a beach after a good cry with her papa, slightly upset with hands trying to hide her sobbing face as Robin surprised her with a brownie with a lit candle on top for their three year anniversary, confused with creased eyebrows after a pun made by the archer, and mildly perplexed when ice cream had gotten on her nose on a hot summer day.
Robin's face lit up in a cheery smile, smitten in the memories. Even when they were cursed as Margot and Tilly, the backpacking traveler was prone to carrying an expensive camera or polaroid to snap the most intriguing sights from around the world. As soon as she stayed in Hyperion Heights, the peculiar beignet food truck working girl captivating her like nothing else had before, some of her SD cards were filled in a rapid frenzy with the two of them, running around and exploring what the H-Town had to offer. She may have had a collage of her rambunctious partner, capturing life in a frame, but Tilly had her captured on paper, sketchbooks sprawling with doodles and paintings depicting Margot, along with other things the out of the box minded girl fancied or dreamt vividly about.
Lastly, it was the fact that they could be content just being together. They could talk about anything to each other, like no one else existed but them. Through the good and bad, Alice and Robin were each other's confidant, listening intently to the person's woes and giving advice or support when possible. Truly, Robin knew Alice could talk for hours, giving her more time to retrace her thoughts and bounce off on deep tangents along with her, leading to further conversations. Sometimes, they didn't need to talk at all and just laid there, side by side, hearing each other breathe as the clouds rolled by or the night wore on until they fell asleep.
Awaking from her thoughts, her emerald eyes met cerulean ones, a puzzled expression etched across Alice's face. "You alright there, Ro Ro?" she asked the archer, having brought them back a hot chocolate, Robin's traditional family favorite.
Given the chance, Robin would ramble to anyone that would listen about what she loved about Alice. Then again, if the archer had to be honest, she'd never tell anyone the sum of these things, not even her love. It wasn't for the fear of vulnerability like in her teenage years or fear of professing her love in public. On the contrary, the sharp shooter had courage and was just waiting for the right moment to say every romantic and cheesy line she could think of. Robin couldn't wait until their wedding day, ready to announce her vows, the internal love letters, to her newly made fiancé, Alice. But until then, she'd spend every moment possible, making sure her love knew it, as she sleepily nodded and nuzzled her head into the gal's shoulder, taking in the sweet scent of shampoo and tangy oranges from the adorned flannel.