A/N: *waves sheepishly* To the one's that have constantly begged me to update, this one's for you! Tiffany, Mel, Patricia, and all the gurls from TrashGirlzBand (still laughing at the name, tbh) this is a big IN YO FACE to you gals who were convinced I wouldn't update for the next three decades, or more. Ha. Also, thank you guys for all the follows (200+ of you!), favs, reviews, and more importantly, all the love this crazy fic gets! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Just a heads up, this chapter is unbetaed, so all of those beautiful mistakes are, guess what, property of Dandelion and I'm sure I'll cringe when my perfectionist self reads this chapter again in a few days. Anyways, I'm sorry for the horrors.
As always, I hope you guys enjoy this installment and please, I'm always a sucker for what you guys think!
Enjoy!
|Chapter 7: Or Time Will Waste You|
Time's up
They lower his casket into the ground.
Time's up.
They drop a few roses.
Time's up.
Earth covers the flowers.
Time's up.
Little John is gone.
They say that different people mourn in different ways.
When her sister died at seventeen years old by drowning, Regina, only three years younger, mourned her by relying on her anger. She surrendered herself at the young age of fifteen to that wilder, that trouble maker side of her under the pretense of needing to feel alive, to feel closer to her. So yeah, her rebellious years were caused by an extreme way of mourning. That time she went against her parents, especially her insufferable mother. But merely two years afterwards, on the same day as Zelena's death, her rebellious game took a turn for the worst when Regina Mills, daughter of notorious business woman Cora Mills, almost drowned… like her sister.
Same circumstances.
Same day.
Same place.
Two years later.
They say that death was a big mystery, but ever since that fateful night when her lungs constricted in pain, when she couldn't feel her body, when she couldn't move, breathe, or say a word to her crying best friend, from that day forward to Regina? It was life the one that was a big mystery. Death is comfortable, is kind, is waiting for you with open arms, swallowing you into a peaceful darkness, caressing your pain away. Such a traitor, coaxing you with sweet touches to stay with her in the land of the non-living. But life? Living? Deciding to leave such comfort for such excruciating pain? That, that is the mystery because why, why must every human prefer things the hard way? Because life, life is painful, it squeezes your lungs as you try to take that breath, that selfish breath that will send you back into the world of the living. Is almost as if life was testing you, just checking out to see if you were worthy of living, if you were worthy of her. And the harder you try to breathe, the harder she squeezes.
But Regina took her breath, and the moment her eyes opened, her father by her bedside and her mother by the end of the bed, she promised to her dead sister that she'll never put their parents under any other heartbreak again.
Then, merely a year later, her nana, Eleanor, passed away after a quiet fight against cancer.
Regina mourned in a different way this time, she mourned by overworking herself with school activities, filling up her schedule with different tasks to distract her mind, and by the time she graduated high-school, she had completed all courses needed for graduation, a locally recognized research paper titled "The Psychological Aspects of Evolution: What Darwin Got Wrong", and different plays in which she either participated or merely helped with the development. But still, Nana Elle was gone, and that night, after leaving her graduation party early, she cried the lost of her dearest friend, her mentor, her crazy nana with a strict personality and dry sense of humor.
But the matter at hand is that people mourn in different ways, and yet sometimes the same person can differ in their way of mourning.
And sometimes two people, whose souls are drawn to one another, can mourn in the same way.
Just like they are.
Raw, passionate, feral growls slipping from one another as they desperately claw at each other. Clothes torn, lips swollen, eyes bloodshot they stare at each other, their eyes a window to their bruised souls, never once parting their gaze as she lowers herself onto his length.
It's intense to look into each other's eyes as they unite themselves as one. Their hearts bursting with love and appreciation in a way they've never felt before.
But tonight there's no time for that, no time to dwell on things, instead it's a night to focus on feeling. There's anger, frustration, pain mirrored in each other's eyes, both hearts still too bruised with the loss of a precious friend.
But there's no more thinking of that either because the minute Robin's eyes well up with tears, Regina rolls her hips, getting his attention almost immediately; and the moment their eyes meet as he hisses out a breath, Regina starts moving on top of him. Riding him fast and hard, her movements focused entirely on one goal; to take him over the precipice with her. To take them both towards a different dimension where life disappears along with heartache and loss for a few minutes.
But he cannot have that right now, he needs to savor this moment. Needs to be sure that she's here, she's okay, she's not gone, she won't be like Little John left.
"Regina," he murmurs, his voice laced with pleasure and just the right amount of roughness in it, "slow down," he calls out, his eyes moving towards her tits where he enjoys the visual display of them, all the while praying to the Gods above for her to slow down her movements soon.
But Regina doesn't, instead she goes faster, closes her eyes to avoid looking at him and spilling out what's been bothering her ever since John's death and even a few weeks before that.
So she revels in the feeling of him inside of her, hard and warm and just perfect as his tip bumps against that particular spot inside of her over and over again, a movement that has her thighs trembling against his hips, has her arching her back as she lets out a long moan before continuing moving up and down, up and down, always sure to squeeze a little on her way up.
"Regina," he groans, his faces scrunching up in pleasure the moment she lets her hips fall firmly against his, trying to shut him up. But he knows of her wicked games, so instead of relaxing back into the pillows like he'd done countless of times, he reaches for her hips, adding pressure there in order to still her to no avail. Instead Regina pushes his hands away from her with more force than necessary and holds them against the pillows on top of his head before leaning down closer to hi face and kisses him roughly.
She's sighing against his mouth all the while her warmth is doing deliciously illegal things to his cock and he could come right now because her tongue is caressing his to the same rhythm of her hips, her perk nipples are rubbing wickedly against his chest with each thrust, and God, he can even feel her tight bundle of nerves moving up and down against his length with the occasional rotations of her hips.
Regina's focusing entirely on her carnal side, on his delicious and addicting lip, on his stubble against her shin and upper lip, on his throbbing cock inside of her, anything but ironically, him. Anything but his eyes, anything but his smile, anything but his voice, anything except all the things that remind her of buried feelings long ago.
And she's closer now to paradise, can feel her toes curling up, her breath getting ragged, her heartbeat picking up, and she can feel him throbbing, getting impossibly harder inside of her, can hear him groaning against her lips, can feel him struggling under her, trying hard not to spill himself into her, grabbing her hands and hooking their fingers painfully, desperately looking for something, anything to anchor himself.
Regina breaks the kiss to let out a drawn out moan when his legs part just a little under her and he starts thrusting up, pounding into her with such force, such determination that for a moment she wants to stop and savor this, savor his length roughly caressing her walls. But then she's opening her eyes and she's met with his beautiful blue orbs, always looking at her when they do this and she tries to break the gaze, tries desperately to look everywhere, to stare at his chin, his glistening neck, his forehead, anything but his soft baby blues.
Still, Robin notices this, notices everything no matter how much effort she puts into concealing it and instead of pounding into her, instead of focusing on his desire and need to orgasm, he reaches for her cheek, pushing back a strand of hair and hooking it behind her ear before his thumb is caressing her cheek lovingly.
Regina doesn't know if it's the movement, their current position, or the fact that she's incredibly close to her climax, but her eyes are watering and Robin, the ever gentleman even with his cock buried deeply inside of her on the verge of exploding, moves his hands quickly to her waist and holds her still.
"No, Robin, please," she lets out, her voice breaking as she closes her eyes and tries to resume her movements, and by all means tries to get him to move too.
"Regina, look at me," he begs, his eyes frantically searching for an answer, an answer she's not willing to provide anytime soon. "Talk to me," he pleads, his hands now back to her face, caressing her cheeks in a loving way which both breaks and mends her heart at the same time.
So she leans forward, rests against his naked torso and just moves her face closer to his neck, always seeking the warmth there.
This is a mess, a horrible mess which she neither wanted nor anticipated. Her mind had been plaguing her with memories, with moments, conversations shared with Little John. Of making choices, choices the —now late man, knew about and had begged for her to tell the man underneath and inside her. This is messed up —no, this is al sorts of fucked up. She didn't want to ruin this evening. She didn't want to spill her secret over great sex and an extremely close orgasm.
But the overwhelming guilt she feels when Robin rubs the small of her back in a comforting caresses makes her heart ache with the knowledge that they, that these nights they've become accustomed to, their company, their terribly epic-confussing-and-completely-unintentional story has its weeks counted.
"Talk to me," he whispers again, dropping a small kiss on top of her head.
Regina takes a deep breath and just sits up atop of him, their bodies still intertwined as she slouches a little and starts tracing a thin trail of hair from his navel towards the apex of his thighs, where it disappears under her.
Robin simply watches her, transfixed by her beauty and sighs when her fingers caress over a sensitive zone below his navel and his muscles constrict, already achy from the desperate need for release his body craves.
"I have some news," Regina mutters never once meeting his gaze and heart breaking again with the fact that Robin will, once again, be receiving a curve ball, twice this week.
"You know you can tell me anything, Regina," he whispers after a second of simply observing her struggle.
Regina nods in response, her eyes welling up with tears. A couple of moments go by before she's moving on top of him, trying to adjust him better inside of her. She's closing her eyes, biting her lip and then she says what had been bothering her for weeks.
"I'm moving back to New York."
.:.
He can't believe what he's hearing.
He's losing two of the people he loves the most over the course of a week.
But then suddenly, painfully, everything falls into place.
Little John's insistency, his warnings, Regina's distant look over these past few weeks, the unspoken words between her and John, and suddenly Robin's pissed off at the man, absolutely repulsed that he had the guts to lie to him, that he knew about this and never once considered telling him about it.
Yet the smarter, kinder part of Robin understands Little John, and it makes him hate himself for he should've seen the bittersweet look Regina had whenever she spoke with her father on the phone, should've seen her desperation and determination when her mother called with news of her father's stay at the hospital. "It's nothing serious, dear," Cora had said, but he should've known that for Regina it wasn't, and the fact that she was so far away from her father was killing her slowly.
So how, pray do tell, how can he actually believe that he has feelings for her when he can't even distinguish between herself and her carefully constructed façade? How can he tell her he has feelings for her when he's going to do it for his selfish need to have her close to him? How can he tell her that he loves her, when it's just going to look as an act of desperation from his part?
No.
He won't do that, he won't hurt this beautiful soul any more than life has already. But still he was so angry with himself, with life, with her…
"Why?" he demands, his voice coming out a bit more deeper than he intended but fuck it, he's hurt, he's angry, he's extremely, painfully hard inside of her warmth.
"I knew you wouldn't agree—"
"Why?" he demands again, his hands now going to her hips and staying there.
"I—" she's fetching for plausible excuses, looking down on his eyes. "Daddy's health is not the best—"
He breaks the contract from their bodies then by gently lifting her up from him, his cock twitching immediately in protest, missing her warmth and wetness, but there are more important matters at hand right now rather than to fuck the life out of her. So he huffs and gets off the bed, starts pacing around the room before his hands go through his hair several times, trying to make sense of this situation.
"That's not it, Regina, and you know it."
An eerie silence fills the dark room and Robin just sighs as he tries to compose himself, tries to reign in his emotions least he end up hurting the woman he loves the most.
"Why are you doing this, Regina?" he asks after a minute, his voice softer now, almost breaking by the emotions swarming him.
"Because I need to do it, " she says from her spot on the middle of the bed, her figure hunched over as she looks at the spot he was laying down merely two minutes ago, "for me."
He's frustrated with everybody right now.
And it's killing him, it's pure torture the way Little John's Time's up keep repeating itself over and over again, almost as if that part of him was mocking him for his lost. Yet his anger, his frustration subsides the moment he looks at her, really looks at her. Eyes glassy with emotion, tentatively searching for his in the dark room and Robin has to stop and take a breath, for Regina's expressive eyes were screaming at him just how sorry she was for disappointing him.
Yet still, as much as it pisses him, as much as it pains him what she's doing, Robin can't and won't let her feel that way. Even if it kills him in the end, loving a person means putting that person's needs before our own, and if her happiness —no, not her happiness because Robin's absolutely sure her happiness is not back home— but if her sense of peace rests in the skyscrapers of New York City and family members, he'll do it, he'll squash down his feelings and he'll support her decision as fiercely as she wants him to.
Anything for her.
But still, he needs to know it, needs to know if she's not happy here, needs to know if it's caused by this relationship of sorts, by this agreement, this fucked up situation they found themselves in four years after agreeing to this. It's crazy, because neither could they live without each other or live with each other. Whenever they went out on dates, whenever they brought another person home, they've found themselves criticizing each other's dates' flaws, because Erica, didn't do his scrambled eggs like Regina did, or Joshua, brought her tea and a muffin when she would rather have coffee and soda bread baked by Robin.
"Just answer me with the truth, Regina. Will moving back home make you happier?" he asks, immediately bracing himself for heartbreak as he swallows.
.:.
The question catches her off guard. Will moving back home make her happier? Will it cause her more pain? Will it cause her any more regrets? She doesn't know. But she answers him with the half truth.
"I hope it does," she murmurs, her eyes glassy and she catches his disappointed look before he nods. She feels the need to reassure him, needs him to know that it's not him, it's her as cliché as it sounds. "Hey," she calls out to him the moment he lowers his gaze towards the carpeted floor, "Robin, look at me," his gaze meets hers and the intensity there, the warmth that those blue orbs incited in her was almost enough to make her consider staying. Almost. "I'm happy here too, Robin."
"If you were you wouldn't have decided to leave, would you?"
She stays quiet after that, her gaze dropping towards the bed as she tries to calm herself after this conversation.
There's some truth to his words, and some truth to hers too. Yes, she's happy here, but she still remembers the momentary pain she felt that night so many moons ago, a pain so quick and yet so excruciating laced with an odd sense of unexplained betrayal. But she shuts down her thoughts, instead sighs when her legs tremble with adrenaline, lust and an incomplete orgasm. Suddenly Regina finds herself missing him inside of her, under her, writhing, groaning, grabbing handfuls of her derrière as he pounds into her. She needs him, needs him now more than ever.
"Robin," she calls out, her voice dropping an octane, her mind intent on one thing and one thing only; to lose themselves in the throes of passion and forget that this conversation, this week, these tragic events ever happened.
"What?" he's looking at her now, eyes darkening immediately when Regina whines at him to come to bed, all the while biting her lip and pouting when he doesn't move.
Regina instead reaches towards the back of her head and releases her dark tresses from her messy ponytail. Then she hovers forward and crawls slowly up the bed until she's laying down on her belly, giving him an ample view of her succulent bottom, his favorite feature of hers.
"Whenever you're ready," she shrugs innocently and moves her head to the other side, now focusing entirely on the bedroom window instead of his deliciously toned body and deliciously built member.
She smiles wickedly when a moment later she feels him massaging her behind, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing and she's arching her back and groaning when his fingers travel between her thighs, probing her warmth, circling his fingers around that nub of nerves and teasingly running that index finger along her entrance.
He's not disappointed by what he finds there, judging by the way he growls, the way his cock twitches against her hip and he's reaching for her leg, turns her body to face him and throws her leg over his shoulder.
Regina smiles at him but it soon turns into a strangled moan because he's flickering his thumb firmly against her clit, pulling and teasing, his cock now sliding between the slickness that's accumulating there and without another word, without another tease, without another look or a warning, he drives himself home with a sharp thrust, her eyes closing in ecstasy and his hands grabbing her hips firmly.
Maybe under another moon they would've had something more than this, something more than sex for fun, sex for release, for entertainment and as a distraction.
Maybe under another moon they would've made love to one another.
But under this moon, under these circumstances, this is what they are; two lost souls desperately craving for love in the arms of each other, their fear for rejection, fear for the future unknowingly extending the heartache and the search for that other lost soul.
Unbeknownst to them that those two lost souls were desperately looking for each other.
They shut down all thoughts and just surrender to the wilder, carnal side of themselves. That side that's often present when the other is around, that side they're grateful for having, the one that protects them both from heartache.
And just one wonders, how stupid and clueless can these two lost souls be?
—Present—
He's standing by the door, a shit eating grin on his face as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.
"I thought the competition would be tougher, m'lady."
Oh the irony of it, the underlying meaning of his words.
"You didn't," she murmurs, dropping that carrot she was munching on into the bowl and putting it away.
"I did," he shrugs indifferently as he moves closer to the couch. "A royal flush, if you may," he shrugs again, accent dripping with every word and Regina's laughing once again at the irony of it.
Of course her British best-friend had managed to pull a royal flush on her fiancé.
Robin merely shrugs yet again at her boisterous laugh and sits next to her on the couch, catching a glimpse of the movie on the tv and rolling his eyes.
"I will never understand why you love that bloody movie so much," he scrunches up his face, amusement clearly written in his eyes the moment John Travolta starts dancing and singing on top of a car. "And with carrots!" he says as he picks up the bowl on the coffee table thinking it was some of that delicious popcorn she used to mix with just a tad of brown sugar and M&M's.
Regina just shrugs and rolls her eyes, her sock covered feet pushing lightly at his legs the moment he made a disgusted look at the bowl.
"That's it, m'lady, I'm doing an intervention. Come on, get up, we are going out," he motions towards the door, playfully pulling at her arms, trying to get her to stand up.
"Robin, it's," she looks at the clock behind him, "late!"
"Isn't this the city that never sleeps? And besides I'm really craving a burger right now, so please, get up and let's go," he pulls once again and she goes limp, pretending she's asleep, but he knew she'd do something like that, Regina has always been the drama queen out of them both, so he starts poking at her calf then the bottom of her feet, feels her leg muscles going tight and he continues before she's cackling, breathless laughs leaving her body and she's pushing at his chest with her legs, trying to get as far away from him as she could.
"You know how much I hate that," she pouts, and if this wasn't the weekend before her wedding, if they were back in the comfort of their loft in London, he would've kissed that pout away.
But he cannot do that, not now, not ever.
He promised he would make her last moments as a 'single woman' as enjoyable and remembered as he can, and he's intent on doing that, intent on showing her that not everything is as bleak as she thinks. So no, he's not kissing her, he's not making love to her, instead he's showing her that in different ways.
He'll make her relax, he'll make her spend this last week just exactly like they spent their days in London.
"And you know how obnoxious I get when I'm hungry. Now come on, let's go," he rushes out and turns off the tv, all the while pulling her from the couch. "And please do explain, what is up with the carrots," he makes a disgusted face again as he picks up the bowl and rushes towards the kitchen, Regina following close behind.
"Wedding things and hey, I was eating that," she says, amusedly walking over to him and playfully smacking his chest. Robin just arches his eyebrow at her and she just bites her lower lip, trying really hard not to smile at him before lifting her chin up and saying "I was going to."
He chuckles and finishes throwing the orange monstrosities into the trash.
"There, done, crisis averted. Now, let's get some real food," he winks at her and she rolls her eyes, following him out the door.
For some reason they decide to walk that night. The breeze was relaxing, the moon high up in the sky and they're quiet, just enjoy each other's company as they walk through blocks from her street. They stop at a gourmet burger shop that's surprisingly empty for a late Friday night and sit in a secluded booth on the far end of the room. A chirpy young waitress makes her way over to them and they place their order but before she could leave, Robin beckons her closer.
"Can you also bring her a strawberry-chocolate shake? For some reason beyond my knowledge, she can't eat a burger without drinking a bloody milkshake."
The waitress just chuckles and nods at him, then she offers Regina a small smile before she leaves.
"I can't thank you enough for doing this, Robin," she smiles, her eyes glassy with emotion as she reaches for his hand across the table and loops their fingers together. He simply shakes his head and squeezes back her hand.
"I love you. You are my best friend and I'll do this again in a heartbeat if it makes you happy," he smiles at her, dimples full on display and Regina's smile turns melancholic for a second, her eyes welling up with tears before she's standing from her seat, walks towards his side and hugs him tightly.
"I love you," she whispers lowly against his neck before she drops a small kiss on his cheek and settles in on his side.
For now, for this moment, Robin shuts down all thoughts and simply inhales the scent of her hair, absorbs her presence, her warmth by his side. But it's short-lived because soon enough the waitress arrives with their food and they break out of their embrace, and they eat in comfortable silence while occasionally reaching for a bite of each other's food.
Robin drinks the last of her milkshake and gives her a cheeky smile before reaching towards her upper lip and taking out a small breadcrumb that had lodged itself on her lip. But he's drawn to her, drawn to her eyes, her scar and he chuckles at it after a second.
"Don't," she warns, slapping his chest while trying to act annoyed at him, but she can't bring herself to do it, not when he snorts and chuckles even harder with every soft punch that lands on his chest. "It's still embarrassing, Robin!" her cheeks are reddened now, her eyes filling up with amusement and embarrassment.
But Robin's still laughing, his brain working a mile per hour like it always did with this topic. Now, eight years later, he still couldn't figure out how messed up and simply amusing their story was. "Who would've guessed that an Evil Queen would've been caught up making out with a vampired-up version of Robin Hood in a half bathroom."
"That was the worst Halloween I've ever celebrated!" she's chuckling now, remembering just how awkward and bloody painful that night had been.
She doesn't know why she's here, more importantly why she's wearing this. But for the last couple of weeks she's been obsessed with villainous characters from every movie, every story, trying to collect even the smallest of details to add to her Sociology paper on Morals & The Psychosocial Effects on Personality , just a fancy way of saying "why people do what they do". Robin had bumped into her in the library, pouring herself into her work, and he'd sat down in the cubicle adjacent to her, had begged her to come to his halloween party and after much deliberation, she agreed.
Which is why now she's walking up the steps towards his off-campus house, channeling some sort of modern Evil Queen in all black, high heeled boots and a corset that pushed her boobs up and above. She winks at the men that notice her, smiles kindly at the few girls wearing cat ears that stare at her boobs, and just walks towards Robin as soon as she sees him.
"Hi," she murmurs sheepishly, barely inaudible with the music as she taps his shoulder and he's turning around, eyes immediately drawn to her incredible breasts, but before he could say anything, Regina's laughing at him, a full blown-laugh that radiates from deep within her belly.
"I'm sorry, is my costume amusing to you?" he says, his eyes filling with a glint of awe and extreme desire for her.
"It's just, it's so you," she shrugs as she tries to reign in her laughter, or is it her nerves?
She's not sure anymore.
"Well you look quite ravishing, m'lady," he says as he kneels a little in front of him.
"Thank you," she murmurs, blushing slightly at her new nickname. "I like the fangs, gives it a kick," she winks.
"Thanks! They're ceramic, I've bitten myself painfully several times and I don't know how I'll take them off but I'll manage," he chuckles at her shocked face and just changes the subject. "Can I get you something to drink? I pride myself for being the best drink-mixer in the country."
"Really?"
And just like that the challenge was on and he mixes her drinks after drinks well into the night.
Soon enough they find a door that affords them some quiet space, well lack of space but quietness, and soon enough they're at each other, kissing and moaning and God, alcohol really acts like a bitch when it comes to making out because their kisses are messy, their noses are bumping against each other, their tongues fighting against each other, and more often than once his ceramic fangs nipped a little too hard on her lower lip, so he breaks their kisses.
"Let me take these off," he says with a deep voice, arousal coating every word with the feel of her this close to him, the feeling of her tits just pressing against his chest, her taut nipples very noticeable even through layers of clothes.
Regina's biting on her lower lip, waiting impatiently for him to take those damn things off but honestly? She isn't bothered by them, instead they turn her on a little, after all it's not everyday that you have the opportunity to get laid by a vampire, even less a Robin Hood version of it. So she groans "Leave them on," when he tries to get them off to no avail.
And they're back at it, kissing more fervently, more hungrily. His hands latching onto her ample bottom, palming it, griping her, grinding against her, and she's moaning into his mouth, biting his lower lip and groaning when he does the same to her upper lip. Catches it before releasing it, catching it again more firmer and suddenly the door is opening, Robin is gasping and his mouth clamps close in panic over her upper lip, a sharp pain invading her senses before she pulls back immediately away from him, crying out as the pain intensifies at the ceramic ripping skin.
"I'm sorr-"
Whack!
Without thinking, Regina punches Robin right on his nose and he falls from the force of it, the metallic taste of blood invading his senses and hers.
"On my defense I never thought ceramic fangs would cause such injury."
"Yeah, well, they did," she pouts, the evidence of that night very noticeably on her upper lip, but soon it morphs into an amused grin. "You scarred my lip for life and I broke your nose, yet you took me to the hospital and made sure I was properly taken care of."
"Four stitches," he nods along, a sheepish smile on his lips and then laughs when he sees the roll of her eyes.
"I have to live with the consequences of your stupid fangs."
"I know," he chuckles once again before he's reaching for the last couple of french fries on her plate.
Just then her phone vibrates from the middle of the table and she picks it up, her eyes brightening at the text on display.
I love you and I miss you
—Daniel
But before she can reply, she smiles a little bigger when Robin nonchalantly mutters "I still have those fangs somewhere in the loft."
Because Daniel gets her for the rest of his life in eight days, and Robin has her only for these few moments before her wedding day.
Robin's hands are on her lower back, their torsos pressed tightly together and they're swaying slowly to the soft melody playing over the speakers.
"I'm pretty sure I'll trip and fall to my death with these ridiculous shoes," she's muttering after missing a step and nearly tumbling down onto the coffee table.
Robin just snorts and continues leading her around the living room.
They've arranged it the moment they arrived after their busy day, clearing the middle and creating a small space for her to practice her first dance. They're dancing to the soft tune of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. He's leading her, waltzing them around the carpeted floor and she's smiling brightly at him, at this wonderful man she calls her best friend.
"When did you learn how to waltz?" she's eyeing him curiously just as he gently dips her. Quickly he pulls her up and spins her around before replying softly.
"I may have watched some videos on youtube," he shrugs at her surprised and awed look. "I told you I was taking this maid of honor work seriously."
"Well, now I absolutely know I made the right choice," she sighs before resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. "I love this song," she says, smiling softly as the melody wafts through the speakers and Robin nods and smiles at the way she moves closer to his neck, still seeking his warmth after all this time.
They stay like that for moments, bodies pressed together as they sway softly, both reveling in the feeling of being this close again.
Reveling in the fact that her wedding is one week away.
"One week," she sighs nervously against his shoulder, eyes tightly closed and she feels Robin pressing a loving kiss atop her head and whispers the same thing.
.::.
"One week," he confirms, his throat constricting and arms tightening around her in a protective way.
One week until he'll no longer be able to hold her this close. One week, and he's not prepared. Not prepared for letting her go, not prepared for watching her get married to another man and just imagining it is enough to break this sense of calmness that has settled around them.
He swallows hard and unwraps his arms from around her, trying to extricate himself from their embrace, knowing all too well that the more time he spends with her, close like this, the more painful it'll be when he has to let her go. Sure, last night and today had been fun, and he may have forgotten for a second that she was actually getting married in a few weeks, but now, muttering those two words is enough to bring him back to the real life.
But they were still close, and he's tired, extremely exhausted of not sleeping last night and deciding to stay up with her instead, trying to make the best out of their last moments together. But sleep deprivation mixed with desire is a dangerous combination. So he needs to back away, back away before he ends up doing something he'll regret.
But as fate would have it, his foot gets tangled with hers and he's tumbling down onto his back, pulling Regina down with him before landing on the carpeted floor and letting out an oomph and a groan the moment his sleep deprived body comes in contact with the hard floor.
A few seconds go by where the only sound in the living room is the sound of their heavy breathing, but soon Regina's soft chuckles are filling the air before both of them are bursting into full boisterous laughs.
"Are you okay?" she asks in between breathless chuckles as she lifts herself from his chest and looks down on him.
His hands are on her lower back as he nods but keeps on laughing.
Sure, his back was going to hurt in the morning but right now, right now this was some funny shit and he's intent on enjoying this—
Oh
The realization of their position dawns of him with the flutters on his stomach and the weight on his lower abdomen, and he opens his eyes, chuckling softly as he stares at her. She's amused, her lips trying to suppress another laugh at this situation, but then he's siting up, his sudden movement making her slip onto his lap instead and her laughter dies.
"Robin," she whispers, lips centimeters away from his and she's eyeing them, memories washing over her like some hot cocoa on a chilly night.
Warm and inviting.
Home
.::.
Regina never thought she'd experience this again, him close to her, lips a few centimeters away from each other… and yet here they are, gaze focused on his lips, her hand reaching up and caressing the nicely trimmed hair of his beard, the gentle roughness of it against her palm rising in her long ago buried desires.
It's strange, and at the same time it is not, because she's done this several times before. She had teased him about it, had helped him out whilst shaving a few years back, but there's something different tonight, the atmosphere between them has grown tense. A fact that's not dismissed by either one of them because his lips are parting, hers too before she lifts her gaze from his lips and meets his gaze instead.
"Robin," she whispers once again, palm pressed more firmly to his cheek just as her thumb traces that dimple of his. Regina swallows hard, gazes at his lips again before throwing caution to the wind and leans in closer, pressing her lips firmly to his.
God, how long had she wanted to do that?
She's missed him all these years, missed those lips, those dimples, just missed everything about him.
And he did too, because his palms are traveling up from her hips and stopping by her waist, he's caressing her lower lip with that honeysuckle mouth of his. Regina feels her heart beating faster, her breath getting ragged as his taste invades her senses, as his arms wrap around her middle, as his wonderful kissing skills register in her head.
But soon she's breaking the kiss, their breaths mingling for a second before he leans down again —always in extreme need of contact between them, and captures her lips in a deeper kiss, more desperate, more raw, tongues softly begging for entrance and he's hoisting her up, pulling her incredibly closer to him as she wounds her arms around his neck, fingers running through his hair and deepening the kiss even more.
Their desperation palpable with the constant press and pull of their lips.
Thoughts?
I don't know if you guys listen to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but their song titled "Wedding Song" is simply amazing. Also, please be patient, I know that with that flashback you guys have more questions, but we still have about 7 chapters to go so hopefully I'll answer some of your questions soon.
Signed, Cruella.
