Emma regained consciousness before she regained her physical functions. She stared at the backs of her eyelids for a moment, trying to summon the energy to open them, wondering why she didn't smell coffee that Mary Margret would immediately start upon waking. She didn't even hear roommate shuffling around or humming off key, which was even odder since she had never woken up before the schoolteacher in her entire stay at the apartment. Her eyes finally fluttered open, the world slowly coming into focus, and she nearly gasped at what greeted her. The blond was not in her cozy little room, with soft grumble of the radiator and dust floating lazily in the sunbeams overhead.
The differences were suddenly so drastically apparent. The room was quieter and the air seemed crystal clear without the allergens that normally had her sniffling for the first part of the day. The first rays of sunlight shone through the gauzy, white curtains casting a golden glow about the room. But all of this didn't strike her half as much as Regina lying on the pillow next to her, the white sheets and duvet tucked around her, and still sleeping peacefully. Emma could only gaze in wonder at the beautiful woman before her.
It was as if her dream came to life, as she tentatively ran her fingertips down the older woman's bare arm as if to make sure she was real. The brunette didn't stir under the touch, her full lips simply ticked up momentarily in a reflexive smile, then relaxed again. Emma leaned in a little closer, feeling emboldened to continue her observations. Prior, she been deprived of the opportunity. After they exhausted each other, Regina would allow her to bask in the warmth their bodies created and rest a moment, but inevitably she would get a sharp nudge signifying it was time for her to leave. She'd never actually stayed the night so she wanted to take advantage.
When Regina was conscious, she projected a commanding presence and was terrifying gorgeous much like the evil queen Henry painted her out to be. But like this, calm and unguarded, she appeared to be much more like the dozing damsel of the tale Snow White. Her umber locks coiffed and wavy, feathered lashes resting demurely against her cheeks, and lips plump and red even without the assistance of her usual bold lipstick. She looked, not quite innocent or naïve because she couldn't imagine associating those words with the older woman, but tranquil, unburdened with whatever damage she carried around inside.
Emma truly didn't know anything about her past but she could recognize when someone had once upon a time been irrevocably broken because she knew what it felt like. She could see the signs. Her and Regina were not all that different from each other; they wore their solitude like armor against the world, keeping people at a distance with their distrust, and emanating strength to maintain control of every situation. No, the blonde decided, Regina was nothing like either of the fairytale characters because no one was ever as cut and dried as good or evil. She was just a woman, more beautiful than most perhaps and not without her flaws.
Her eyes flicked down the scar on her upper lip, not quite as defined in her slumbering state. Emma noticed the mark usually became more pronounce when she was angry, the line deepening with her ire. She didn't realize that she had gotten so close to the other woman's face but she suddenly became aware that her nose was very nearly brushing against Regina's. Her lips hovered dangerously close to the enticing lips just a few centimeters in front of her. A magnetic energy buzzes in the scant space between them just like in her dreams, kinetic and raw and somehow magical. Emma fought the pull but she felt as though it were a losing battle.
But then her companion's eyes opened slowly, brown irises warm and rested, looked contentedly at her for a second and Emma almost grinned. However, the tenderness disappeared in a flash, eyes widening in alarm. The mayor shoved her away hard and Emma scrabbled as far as possible to the other side of the bed and still keep her modesty. Now the eyes flared with molten anger, her tone seething with rage like the blonde hadn't seen before, "What the hell are you still doing here?"
Now she glared at the hostility rolling off the other woman, quickly gearing up for a fight with practiced ease, "Calm down Regina. I fell asleep. I'm sorry, it's not the end of the world."
Regina remained unappeased though, standing and wrenching the blankets away from Emma leaving her exposed. She fumbled with a left-behind sheet to recover herself the best she could despite knowing the other woman had intimate knowledge of her body; she just didn't want to feel quite so vulnerable when arguing with Regina who was practically spitting venom at her. "So you thought you'd molest me in my sleep?"
"I did no such thing." She rolled her eyes at her dramatics.
"You were going to kiss me." The brunette accused her with, what Emma thought was, unwarranted malice.
"I was not." Or at least she hadn't planned to. It hadn't been her intention but remember the feeling of being so close, she couldn't say with 100% certainty that she wouldn't have kissed her if Regina hadn't woken up. "Besides, what's the big deal? Have you seen Pretty Woman one too many times?"
"Don't be flippant with me. This is not a joking matter."
"Oh really, because I kind of think this entire thing is a joke."
"Ms. Swan-"
"No, what is your problem lady? It's okay for me to go down on you for an hour but heaven forbid I get anywhere near your precious lips." Her frustrations about their arrangement began to boil over. Emma convinced herself that Regina would eventually reconsider her position on the matter. However, based on the volatile reaction over her near lapse in restraint, Emma realized that she quite possibly would never budge on the issue. The blonde wouldn't admit it to herself, but she'd buried her hurt and confusion about the whole thing. Those feelings simmered under the surface for too long and now they were ready to erupt, like fiery lava spewing ferociously from below.
"Keep your voice down." She snapped then thought of a better idea, "Actually, you need to leave. Now."
"Not until I get some answers. We've been doing this," She gestured empathetically between the two of them, "for almost 2 months now."
"And your point being?" Her voice was chilled and hard, withdrawn and dense as ice.
Emma deflated slightly, feeling foolish for bringing it up at all. Looking back, this should have been the point were she said forget it and stormed out of the house with some dignity intact. She should have seen Regina's rigid, defensive posture, her eyes wild and dangerous like a dark jungle cat trapped into a corner. The younger woman had always been bad at backing out of a fight though, "My point is I thought things were good between us at least until this last week, which I never asked you to explain why you were avoiding me. I tried to be respectful and give you space. And then last night…"
She sniffed, acting uninterested, "What about last night?"
"Last night was more than sex. We connected Regina." Then her thoughts were flooded with images from their long, passionate session from the previous evening and she shivered. They had both been insatiable; testing each other's limits as they drove on to seek the next release. They pushed and pulled the pleasure out of the other, until they both collapsed in a blissful haze, chasing them into a deep, peaceful sleep.
But it had been more than just physical. Her entire life she'd been lost and adrift, from group homes to foster homes and back again. They called the places they sent her homes; she'd heard the phrase 'Welcome to your new home' more times than she could remember. It never felt like where she belonged though. Each was a place of uncertainty. Would the other kids steal from her here? Would there be food on the table? Would the father be a belligerent drunk or worse? As a result she never felt comfortable in one place to too long.
Last night had made her forget all of that. She felt anchored like she'd never experienced before, even when she was with Neal and she thought she'd at last found shelter from the storm but he eventually left her alone too. The pain of his abandonment had vanished as well. Dark eyes had been fixed unabashedly to her own eyes, as if they were each other's lifelines. Emma snapped out of her reflection at the low chuckle that came from the other woman's throat.
"We connected?" Her chuckle crescendos into sinister laughter, the sound made her stomach dip with unknown trepidation. "What? Are you going to take me to a candle-lit dinner at Granny's? You'll start leaving your leather jackets around my house?"
She was practically laughing hysterically. Emma felt the tips of her ears burn and she tried to interject, "I never said-"
"You didn't need to dear." She continued callously, each word stinging worst than the last. "The truth is you're just a good fuck, a nice lay with pretty blonde curls to pass the time. You think you have a place here? You're disposable, just as you've always been. When I'm finished with you, I'll leave you on the side of the road, like the woman who had the misfortune of pushing you out of her body."
Emma could only stare at her in shock, green eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. The brunette maintained her brutal indifference, her eyes glinting with malice and teeth bared in a razor grin, not caring the destructive effect of her little speech. The only indication she was worked up was the slight heaving of her chest as she panted lightly. Each well-placed insult cut her to the bone like a butcher taking his knife to a fatted calf, skillfully striking upon her insecurities. A single tear escaped for her eye before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her cheek to catch the drop and she wiped it gone in a flash, her voice came out as hard and dead as stone, "No wonder the whole town hates you. No wonder Henry wants to escape you. And one day everyone will be free from you except yourself. You'll always be stuck with yourself Regina. We're done here."
With that Emma fled from the room, barely seeing anything as she barreled through the bathroom throwing on her clothing that had been discarded on the white marble tile last night. She didn't care how much noise she was making or that it might alert Henry to her presence as she stomped down the hallway then down the curved staircase. As soon as her feet were crammed into her boots she was gone with a snapping slam of the front door.
The sheriff berated herself for revealing her feelings. It was already incredibly out of character for her to get involved with someone, let alone let herself get emotionally involved. She honestly hadn't let herself get into any sort of relationship beyond a professional one since Neal. Each time a man, or occasional woman, approached her with a flirty smile and gleam in their eye she immediately couldn't help but shut down. The pain of him leaving her echoed in her chest and the more sincere they seemed the more she would want to run from them. She couldn't trust that they had a genuine interest in her. Not when she had so readily believed Neal and his easy smile and charming wit and tender caring before the rug was yanked from underneath her. She determined that they wanted to use her for their own means then toss her aside so she used them first, got what she wanted, and then bailed. But then Regina happened.
Emma had gotten attached and then in a fit of stupidity she thought that the feeling could be mutual. But that too was an illusion. Regina never held any affection for her; it was all to keep her bed warm. She put herself on the line and got burned, badly. Her heart felt hollow and ashen as the fire of her anger died out and she was left was the charred remains, feeling weak and crumbling. She trudged down the stone walkway and the wind picked up. She wrapped her arms around herself to fend off the cold but it was little use. A sheet of gray clouds moved in, blotting out the golden sun, and giving the morning a new dreary, ominous hue.
As she stalked off, Emma focused on the cruel intentions of the words. In the heat of the moment, she could only see the malevolence not bothering to look past the surface of Regina's tirade. In reality, she was willfully blind to it. She couldn't bear to look and see that everything she said was true. It would hurt too much. And if she had looked and seen that the woman was lying, it would be just as painful. She wasn't made for happy endings, which was bad enough. But she knew that false hope would be that much worse.
/
Regina stood frozen next to her bed, staring at the spot that Emma had vacated with such speed, wrapped in her white sheet like a tragic, marble statue of a Greek goddess stepping off her pedestal and walking away. She heard the blonde thundering down the hall, the noise practically deafening in her otherwise silent home. She was glad Henry was such a deep sleeper; nothing could rouse him from sleep before his 7:30 alarm. With a muffled bang from the front door, the quiet resettled over the house. She felt more alone than when she was in Leopold's castle with a husband that had been forced upon her and ignorant, chatty stepdaughter who thought the world problems could be solved with rainbows and Turkish delights if you just believed, left her behind as they made yet another family trip across dewy meadows and through charmed forests to do whatever it was they enjoyed doing. Perhaps they had picnics amongst wild flowers or took teatime with a kindly countess in her airy, seaside estate. She could never really be sure since she had never been invited on one of their happy, little endeavors. But they always returned with cheeks rosy from the sun and in good spirits from their holiday.
The queen stayed in her solitude, sulking in her gloom. The king hiding away his prized wife from prying eyes and potential, more appropriate suitors for the young beauty. Her outlook bleak, knowing that her mother cast a spell keeping her trapped in the dark towers and knowing no one out there cared about her. No one was coming for her; most importantly Daniel wasn't coming for her. In the loneliness and in her grief, something malicious started to grow and her anger flourished in the darkness, nurtured by Rumplestiltskin and her mother, her plot of vengeance was born. Looking back it all happened so slowly and yet all at once at the same time.
She swayed on the spot, knees suddenly weak, but she managed to just keep her bearings, stumbling forward a little as if to pull from her unexpected trip down memory lane. She used the motion to move forward, directing her body towards the bathroom that she now knows is glaringly empty. Regina went to a small narrow closet where some towels were stored, along with extra beauty products and boxes of Henry's favorite Spiderman bandages. She by passed all of that though, instead reaching in the back, her hand wrapping around something cylindrical. The mayor pulled from the shadows a bottle of perfume, Emma Swan's perfume. She'd made a note of the brand the last time she'd been in her apartment and bought it that afternoon online before Henry had come home.
Of course after her conversation with him, she swore on all things unholy she would not give the sheriff the time of day from that point onward. So when the fragrance came in the mail mid-week, Regina hastily shoved it in the back of the cabinet with every intention of throwing it out later. Then the bothersome blonde came around anyways. Despite turning her down and ignoring her all week, Emma came to her and wanted her. And like that, her resolve slipped away as soon as strong arms wrapped around her waist, taking her out of her self-inflicted isolation and into the light.
The younger woman was not wrong about the connection they made last night. All of the denying and pretending Regina worked so hard to maintain dissolved, leaving her to face the truth, that she could possible fall in love with this woman. She thought that she had made it entirely impossible for her to have a chance at love again and yet Emma managed to worm her way into her heart, which was more terrifying than any curse she could conceive.
That was why she had to be so cruel and vile. Pushing her away was the only option if she were going to keep her precious curse in place. If the spell were broken, if Emma discovered the truth, the queen would truly lose everything. Regina didn't know though that in shattering Emma would shatter herself as well. She sprayed the perfume on her wrist, her nose instantly assaulted with the smell that was so like Emma. But it was missing whatever quality the young woman brought to the odor, and it fell flat.
She sank to the ground weighed down by her hopelessness.