She’s not doing anything wrong. Nope.
Nothing wrong at all. Not. A. Thi-
“Mary Margaret, hey!” Belle jumps as
the door opens and her eyes widen with something surprisingly resembling guilt,
her cheeks taking on a fresh ruby tint.
But MM shakes off the thought as soon as it
comes. Belle is by far the sweetest person at the office and doesn’t have a
mean and dishonest bone in her body.
Then she sees the bowl.
“Are those the names for the Secret Santa?”
“Yes, I- I thought I’d take it off your
hands this year.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you. Thanks for getting
all the names ready, I can take it from here.”
Mary Margaret reaches for the bowl. Belle
promptly gives another little jump, pulling it closer to herself.
“No, no, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll go
around once everyone is back from lunch.”
“You really don’t have to, Belle,” Mary Margaret laughs lightly to
cover up the way she unconsciously stressed her name. “I’m used to it, I know
how to get even the greenest of Grinches to participate.”
“I know, but I thought I’d save you the
trouble of going around all the floors. I have to deliver the mail anyway. I
will be sure to threaten any Christmas cynics with holding their mail hostage,
if they don’t draw a name.”
Belle laughs and MM would notice how
nervous it rings out, if she didn’t rush to join in.
Belle, there’s no need. I can take care of it.”
Mary Margaret reaches for the bowl again.
It is awkward at best, the way she is holding her hands out, waiting to receive
the names. And she would feel terrible, she does
feel terrible, watching Belle shuffle her feet and glance in all directions as
if waiting for a rescue from somewhere. She would feel terrible but she really,
really needs that bowl this year.
Mary Margaret is tired of leaving things to chance, tired of stubborn blonde
women that don’t believe in the magic of Christmas. Or True Love.
“Belle?” she cringes at her insistent tone
and swears to herself that she will make it up to the girl.
But Belle just takes a deep breath, bites
hard on her lip and looks up, cheeks now definitely flaming.
“Well, it’s just that… I don’t have much
reason to go to the fifth floor usually a-and… I was hoping to get a chance
to…” she drops her gaze again and Mary Margaret contemplates just giving up but
it’s been two years. “Mm, I was
hoping to talk to Ruby?”
Mary Margaret stands there with her mouth
in a stunned little ‘o’ shape for a solid ten seconds, staring at the woman
before her, who was hugging the bowl to her chest as some sort of a shield.
She has to back down, it wouldn’t be right
to try to kickstart one love story at the expense of another. Mary Margaret
can’t let herself do that to Belle, or Emma for that matter. Plus, she is
pretty damn sure Ruby would most certainly kill her, if she knew.
So with a mighty sigh of defeat, she drops
her arms and gives Belle a half-sad, half-encouraging smile.
“Of course, Belle, that…” she smiles wider
then and reaches over to squeeze the other woman’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll be
She gives Belle a conspiratorial wink and
leaves the staff room, shoulders a little slummed but conscience clear. The
other girl stares after her, face twisted in a combination of embarrassment and
“Well, at least it wasn’t a complete lie,”
she tells herself, voice small but with a note of excitement sneaking in now that
her plan was back on track. “You better appreciate this, Jones.”
If Mary Margaret didn’t need to play it
cool right now, she’d be shoving the paper in her hand in Emma’s face this very
second. Telling her all about how things happened the way they were supposed to,
all about destiny, and serendipity, and things working out just when you’d
given up because you were trying to do good.
She’d say all that and then some but she
really needs to play it cool to pull this off so she just smiles down at the
little white paper in her hand, bearing the name she’d been trying so hard to
the pungent smell of disinfectant was a nostalgic aroma that almost rendered his knees to buckle down due to the whirlwind of agony painted memories. however, that’s not his biggest worry. instead it’s the fact he’s trying to sneak out of the hospital without garnering too much attention from nurses, doctors and the rest of the staff. after all, he was supposed to put on heavy watch– they might have assumed that this was cause from punching glass.. for fun! fresh bandages are a strong contrast against the old ones, it doesn’t exactly help that blood splotches have begun to appear as well. ( oops, moving too fast with fresh wounds – mm ! )
watching the blood stain white bandages was euphoric because he could feel the sting of liquid oozing out of stitches. damn, he’d have to get that changed– but wouldn’t an infection hurt as well? a finger begins to pick at one of his fresh dressings, watching the gauze become undone and the bloody would ripe and ready for him. laughing to himself, the noise he makes borders between normalcy and depravity. using his nail, he began to tug at it as his head was kept down; gaze firmly placed at the wound oozing out beautiful red liquid from the now irritated cut which was inflamed around the edges. oh so captivating.
that is until his body bumped against someone, nail tugging harshly at the stitches agonizingly through the collision. ( it was devastatingly pleasurable. ) almost letting out a noise reminiscent to a foul groan.
‘ .. ah ! that hurt... ’
didn’t sound like it did–
‘ oh ? ’
hisomu wasn’t expecting to see right before him a staff from the hospital ( that’s his own fault for lack of attention ! ); nonetheless, he procured a disarming smile. quickly, his eyes assessed the person and his surroundings. the staffer was taller than him and had an interesting amount of piercings, how quaint. the garb he had on didn’t seem to be of a nurse or a doctor, perhaps.. janitor? it was then confirmed seeing the cart behind the guy that had cleaning supplies among other things. unknowingly, a sigh of relief leaves his lips because this is easy to escape.. maybe even grab information on the way out.
‘ ahh, sorry about that– ’ widening his smile to exude harmless quality before continuing on, ‘ but mind telling me where the exit is.. seems i’m lost, ahehe.’