I will be your mirror
I was so worried that I didn't realize…
She almost choked, air hot against her lungs while she tried to expand them, one hand over the fence, the cold touch of it against her fingertips, as she looked at Henry's soft smile towards Violet. The chilly air of the nighttime breeze cooled her cheeks but she smiled, tender and raw, wanting to cry, to remember for a second what had been to hold a much smaller Henry between her arms and promise him that no matter what, no matter the stories, she needed him to believe in her, in her love for him.
A promise she now felt like a lifetime ago, a promise that hold down her tongue for a moment as she saw an equally pride look on the blonde at her side, the mix between red and gold so bright on her retinas she blinked, the ghost of a smile curving her lips as she swallowed, her nostrils filling for the first time from what felt like eons of that fresh, crispy air.
She had almost lost that night, she thought while looking at Henry, painfully and acutely aware of Emma's figure next to her, close enough for her to extend her palm and touch the coat she wore, the soft skin of the blonde's wrist, the warm flesh below if she wanted, if she dared to. She had almost lost.
But she hadn't, and something inside of her twisted and twirled as she kept looking as Henry moved around, head turned towards Violet, eyes looking back and forth from the girl's eyes to her lips and something inside of her fractured by the notion of being there, standing, existing. They hadn't lost that night, they had fought, together. And as she thought on the mirrors and on Emma's words, she bit down her lip to the point of pain, fire burning, a muffled sob cursing through her body as the notion of being there crashed over her, her eyes glazing as Henry laughed at the other side of the window, happy, alive, and trusting.
"We already did." Had said Emma and the words came to her again, the soft notion of the "we" the almost tentative notion of a family, of them.
Looking down she glanced at her black heels, at the way the light of the dinner was reflected on them, a glossy pattern of light painting the seemingly black fabric into a much lighter shade, into a changing hues of much more warm colors that disappeared as soon as she dragged her feet. The sound made Emma's head to move, her profile illuminated as Regina finally looked up again, a twisting sensation on her stomach and a trembling smile beginning on her eyes.
"We did." She confirmed to the silent and dark- far too dark- eyes of the blonde, her own noticing the green flecks and almost blue and grey touches that transformed the younger woman irises into something she never was able to look at for too long. "We did."
And as she said it the words of the Queen, the words of another story, of the story of Emma and herself hating each other, came back to her memory, a story in which they hadn't wanted to even think of the other as someone worthy of their son. The thought, as the light inside the dinner, seemed to dwindle and retreat as Emma nodded, tongue peeking between her lips and close, far too close, of Regina herself, of the space that the brunette felt like hers. The cloud of her breathing dissolved into the air between them as she breathed out, ready to talk and yet muted.
Regina wondered in that moment what could happen in that second if she closed the distance, if she wrote another chapter on the story they, and only they, had kept writing forward in a book that had left them for enemies. She wondered and burned as she felt the tips of her still cold fingers curl on themselves against the fence, her forearm's muscles tightening as she swallowed, the short curls of her hair brushing against her jaw as she looked bashfully away, feeling the burn of tears she hadn't realized she was holding against her eyelids, threating to come out.
"We are a family."
The thought terrified her and still, still….
There were many things she found herself wanting to say to the silent blonde, to cup her face between her hands and lost herself on the feeling, to caress those pink lips with her thumbs and stop time just as Henry was doing inside, a stolen moment of longing notes. She, however, said nothing, the changing lights of the dinner swallowing Emma's pupils as she, Regina, finally dared to look at those green eyes once again, resolute look staring back at her.
"With or without me."
"But I don't want to be without you." She thought, her lips forming the words, her voice dying on the back of her throat.
Emma's eyes narrowed, almost reading herself to ask for what Regina had said but she closed her eyes and smiled at her. Moving back and retreating to a safe space, slightly further from the blonde, definetely colder, she interlaced her fingers, closing both hands and resting her elbows up the fence.
Yes, she thought while looking at the two teenagers, definetely colder.