"He exposes himself to every danger and wants us to appear unaware of it." - Les Miserables, Victor Hugo - Page 33
Emma watches him as he pushes through the trees.
It's strange to see him, as he leads them across the dangerous terrain of the Enchanted Forest. He's still the same, in so many ways. He still has that familiar grin, slightly self-deprecating, slightly proud, that graces his face perhaps less often than before. He still makes jokes as they navigate the woods, and they still land in a way that is so off-the-mark that she smiles anyway. He still gives her these lingering looks, something lying within those dark blue eyes that she doesn't like to consider.
But she also sees him in a completely different way.
Suddenly, the long, heavy strides aren't him being careless, but placing himself in the lead in case something ominous lay ahead. The distracted responses aren't him not paying attention, it's making sure his focus is on their safety. The light in his gaze not levity, but awareness and readiness.
She looks over at Mary Margaret, who seems just as interested in their guide as she is. It makes her think about the book, the story Henry had begged her to read that included wolves and assassination plots and sacrifice for a stranger.
She thinks of Storybrooke, where he drew her further and further into the community even as it stoked the flames in Regina's gaze more and more.
It seems he hasn't changed at all.
She can't stand the thought of him disappearing from her life again, especially to save hers. So she lengthens her steps and matches his pace, right next to him. He looks down at her a long moment, until she slides her hand into his.
"I missed you," she finally offers, a hushed whisper that feels torn from her throat.
He squeezes her hand. "I missed you, too."