written for the inspired by oq, based on a drawing by laura. day 4.
A Touch of Color
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"Absolutely not."
She mimics it with her lips, Regina, at dinner, so that only he can see what her true opinion on the matter is. Because his daughter – and Roland, really, even if he tries to deny it, he thinks it'd be cool – wants to decorate their white letter box in a rather… innovative way. (She has seen the movie Up, and fell in love with the story of Ellie and Carl, but mostly – with the talking dog. And even though he spied a tear on Regina's cheek after that scene, he knows there's no way she'll say yes to this. Most likely.)
But he won't let her get away with it so easily, and so he grins, and she arches an eyebrow at him –foreseeing what he's going to say.
"Peanut," he almost singsongs, "ask your mother what she has to say about it, come on."
Regina sends him a deadly glare, but he only grins widely and keeps eating his part of the lasagna (as if he knows he probably should savor it, given that he's most likely pissed off the cook).
"Mooom?" the little girl turns, wide-eyed and pleading, as his wife manages to transform her frown into a forced smile.
"Yes, baby?"
"Can we do it pleeease?"
"Yes, mom, can we?" Henry looks up from his phone for a moment, and bless him, he sends Robin an equally amused smile.
"I – I don't think so," Regina stutters, hit by the intensity of the gazes she's getting, "I mean, really… I'm the Mayor, I can't possibly have something like that at my garden gate."
"But moooom…"
"Hazel, I really don't want to discuss it anymore," she says sternly. But his daughter, this time, surprises him. Instead of getting into a tantrum or starting to argue, her shoulders slump down, and her eyes drop.
"You're no fun sometimes," she says sadly.
There's silence around the table now, and Robin almost regret they even started talking about it. He sees Henry and Roland avoid Regina's gaze, and sees her expression. She's petrified, and he already knows her mind is far, far away from that table – in a world where mothers disappoint their children quite often. In a world that was her past.
He sees her frown, and her eyes harden for a moment, then her face softens. "Fine then. We'll do it," she concedes. He can't help the smile that blooms on his face when he sees Hazel lift her eyes and ask, "Really?" with a voice so excited it's almost trembling.
"I'll probably regret this when that stupid dwarf who brings the morning mail will ask me about it, but I don't care," she says, and looks at her daughter with so much affection his heart swells.
.
"I'll have to say, you look dashing with these glasses," she teases, and he groans.
"Not you too. I already have to bear Will Scarlet mocking me about them every time I see him."
"I was serious," Regina lifts her eyebrow at him, and before he can let his thought derail to some… impure destination, he motions at Hazel.
"Do you think the little artist is ready?"
She keeps mixing colors, and absentmindedly nods. "Almost ready!"
He catches Regina looking at the still-white letter box with longing. "Snow will be delighted," she says, pained by the thought. "And then she'll do it too with her name and David's."
"Ready!" Hazel announces, getting up with the palette. "Now you can write the names!"
"You write, Regina, your handwriting is better," Robin immediately says. And he finds himself crouched down with his daughter, pressing his hand into a violet splash of color, and then pressing it again against the letter box.
Once they're done – their names, their hands one next to the other, Regina waves her hand in a simple spell to preserve the masterpiece, and they linger for a moment to watch their masterpiece.
"You've made her happy," he says, circling her shoulder, and he presses a kiss to her temple. "And you're an amazing mom, no matter what you may think sometimes."
She doesn't answer, but takes his hand into hers, and burgundy mixes with violet.
