Regina's nose twitched at the first hint of coffee. The brunette snuggled down in her cozy pile of blankets, soaking up the last minutes of what had been a very deep sleep. When was the last time she had actually slept – without pills or something to aid her on the countless nights where sleep had not come?
Sighing, Regina poked her head out from her cocoon. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching – hitting her elbow on the wall - she heard an altercation break out from the kitchen. She closed her eyes to focus on what was going on.
"No, this is not for you."
Meow
"Look here, woman, you had your breakfast. We are not doing this again."
Meow
"No! The vet said you were fat… hey! Get your grubby paws out of here."
Brown eyes crinkled at the adorable exchange. She stood and ran her fingers through her hair a few times, wondering if she should try and look presentable or if she should go assist with the debate in the kitchen.
Rolling her eyes, she decided she didn't need to do her hair. However, she did require some coffee. The caffeine would have to win out over her vanity today. As the brunette rounded the corner, her eyes went wide. Emma was standing at the stove, a skillet filled with eggs in one hand, and her cat secured in the other.
The cat looked over at Regina with bored green eyes that matched her mother's. Every couple of seconds the furball lazily swiped her paw in the air – hoping, perhaps, that some eggs might fly into her little mouth.
Regina cleared her throat, green eyes snapping to her.
"Oh, hey! Sorry if we were too loud. This little asshole is getting on my last nerve…"
Regina smiled, approaching with her arms outstretched, raising an eyebrow when the blond only stared at her. "Give her to me," she said, her fingers flexing in encouragement, "before you drop her on the stove." Regina's eyes traveled nervously between the cat, Emma's face, and the stove top. She assumed this wasn't the first time this had happened, seeing as Emma didn't seem overly concerned. But that didn't mean she was used to seeing a cat dangle near hot surfaces.
Without waiting for Emma to respond, she scooped the cat into her arms. The kitten's eyes went wide at the change in scenery, then chirped.
"Was your mother being mean to you?" the brunette cooed.
Putting on a show of helplessness, the kitten let out the most pitiful cry, causing Regina to console her. Ginger laid her head down and continued her act. "Oh, I know, baby girl. Let's go find those treats, you must have some around here somewhere…" She looked at the blond expectantly, raising an eyebrow in question.
Emma blew out a breath, "You can't give into her like that, she's a terror." After she realized she wasn't going to win with these two, she turned her attention back to cooking and gave in.
"Hall closet, second shelf. Do not give her too many, I mean it." She pointed the spatula at them to accentuate her point.
The brunette smiled, unfazed, and set the fluffball down. Following the kitten, heading back the way she came to find the treats.
Ginger raced ahead to the only closet in the hall, pounding on it with sad cries. Regina took in the cat's shape; she could maybe lose some weight, but she wasn't a big cat by any means. No harm in giving her some treats.
Squatting to the little one's level, she gave her some scratches. "Ok, look here, just a couple, ok? I don't want your mother yelling at me, too." Happy chirps and headbutts only increased as she reached for the double doors. Scanning for some kind of treat bag, her eyes slid to a poster taped inside the door. Her heart started thumping.
Inside the door was a woman in a black swimsuit; dark hair, deep brown eyes, pouty smile. She was beautiful. Regina froze, losing touch with what she was doing. She fixated on the image, her brain taking in every inch of the woman, disgusted that she couldn't compete with the photograph. This was her, but not anymore. This was the "her" that she could only dream of being once more.
Emma was plating the food when she noticed her cat's cries weren't stopping. Ginger never carried on after getting food; once she was satisfied she was always immediately distracted. The blond wiped her hands and walked towards the hall, only to find her house guest staring at an image of herself, hand reaching for the treat bag, the action seemingly abandoned.
She waited a moment, but when Regina didn't move, she lightly touched the brunette's arm. The woman jumped slightly as Emma tried to coax her back to reality. Regina's eyes widened at the intrusion, embarrassment seeping into her skin.
"I-I'm so sorry. I told you I had a few photos laying around, it's creepy isn't it?"Emma stammered. "I'll take it down," she reached for the poster's edges.
Regina shook her head, her voice quiet, arms trying to bring herself comfort. "She… she's beautiful." She took into account the sun-kissed skin, the flat expanse of her stomach, the sharp angles of her face accented by the lighting. Everything about this image was… produced to perfection.
This was the woman Emma desired, the version of her that was so perfect in her eyes. Now she hides behind her clothing and tries to remember not to gaze for too long into mirrors. She always failed at that.
She noticed Emma was still staring at her and felt her skin heat up.
"I don't look like that anymore," she blurted out as she pushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. She instinctively tightened her stomach, pulling at her shirt, making sure she was covered. Memories reminded her to hide away until she looked absolutely perfect. She had been flawless once, before the industry started to cave to the pressure from the public to change, to become more cognizant of the dangers of starving oneself into nothingness. To allow people to eat and not faint as they went from place to place, photoshoot to photoshoot. She thought she would be happy to not feel the pressure to have the constant pains of an empty stomach anymore, but at some point, those pains had become a part of her pride. A symbol that she was doing something right, and her brain liked to punish her for their absence.
Her shoulders caved in and her chest trembled with emotion – she needed to stop. She felt like she was about to cry or pass out, until little paws touched her legs. She quickly wiped at her face and tried to resume her previous task, actively trying to derail her current train of thought.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Right. Treats." With the cat trailing after her snack, Regina headed into the bedroom, needing to escape Emma for the moment. She felt too vulnerable, worried she was already revealing too much.
Emma wanted to follow, but didn't know what to say. She looked at the poster's image in frustration; she should have remembered that it was there. She made a mental note to rip it up and throw it away.
On the way back to the kitchen, she noticed that her cat's cries had stopped filling the air. Ginger must have finally gotten her treats.
She moved the food and coffee to the table, trying not to take notice that a certain brunette had joined her at the table.
"Do you take cream, sugar, or milk in your coffee? I think I have a little milk left…"
Regina shook her head, distracted. "No, thank you. I take it black." Her fingers wrapped around the warm mug in comfort, her shoulders relaxing. When Emma didn't ask for an explanation. This somehow encouraged her to provide one anyway.
Emma had started eating when she heard a quiet voice speak up.
"I'm not allowed to look like that anymore." Regina picked up her fork and shoveled some food into her mouth. Before realizing she wouldn't have anywhere to spit it out. Let alone what to do with the rest of her plate.
Emma's eyes looked up from her plate. Confused and not wanting to steer the conversation the wrong way, she waited for a clue on how to proceed. Regina was starting to relax and she didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable again. For some reason it hurt when her dark eyes would dim and dart away.
Regina took a sip of her coffee, letting the liquid work its magic, calming her slightly. "I didn't… eat, back then. I'm better now… about eating, that is. I just wish I still looked like her…" Carefully choosing her words, she tried to craft which truth she wanted to share. She did eat now, and she was told her body looked good - healthy. Even if she couldn't always see it.
Emma dropped her fork, shocked. The clatter clearly startled the brunette as she flinched at the abrupt sound. Pale hands lifted up in apology. "Sorry. I...I'll take it down."
Regina shook her head. "No, there's no need. I'm fine, it's stupid. I just had a moment, that's all."
The brunette quickly sipped at her coffee, feeling stupid for bringing it up. She didn't need some random person, a random fan, knowing she had an eating disorder. Her team had kept that from the public for years, just like her sexuality. This is why you didn't open up to people, because one wrong interaction and they are selling your secrets to every media outlet they can find. Like her stupid ex-husband. Luckily, she was able to push off the lesbian rumors as just a disgruntled former spouse, but it still hurt. She had trusted him and they'd been close. He promised he would never let anyone hurt her; she never once worried about that person turning out to be him.
Emma stood and disappeared from the room. The brunette's heart raced, her hand strengthening its grip on her mug. Was the blond calling a paper right now? Was she about to take photos of her wearing sweats with no makeup on, hair a mess for the world to see? No, not just to see, to laugh at.
But a few moments into her impending panic attack, she heard the ripping of paper. The trash can was opened, closed, then opened again.
The blond appeared with the poster shredded in her hands. "I forgot, paper is recyclable isn't it? I probably should recycle it…"
Regina watched in shock as the picture was thrown into the recycle bin. "Why did you do that?" The brunette asked, flushed in embarrassment. She was always causing problems.
Emma shrugged and turned on the tv; it was too quiet in here.
Regina's stomach started to cramp with anxiety. "I'm sorry, Emma…"
Emma waved her off, hopefully projecting that it wasn't a big deal. "It's a stupid photo, don't worry about it. Besides, the real thing is right here." She looked like she was going to say something and held it back, then changed her mind and tried again. "I like this version of you better anyways."
Regina's hand went to her stomach. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or ill, if these were butterflies or anxiety gnats. The blond could say that now, when she could only guess what Regina's figure was underneath her clothes. Still, the brunette nodded and tried to focus on her breathing, when Emma drew her from her quiet meditation.
"Shit, Regina, we have a problem."
She looked up slightly. Her pale complexion was mirrored back to her in the already pale woman's face across the room.
Her stress started to evaporate as she looked at the pure horror on Emma's face.
"What's wrong?"
Emma's eyes started darting around the room looking for something.
"Emma?" Regina's normally deeper tone rose an octave.
Emma shoved a phone in her hands.
"You're missing!"