omg there's a typo

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Golden Lace. Cemetery. Why ate you here. Emotions.

Come What May


Notes: Yeah so this… this happened. I feel like I’m starting something since this is an idea I’d always wanted to play with.

Gold followed the path up over the low hill, bending his head and angling the umbrella to block the chilling late November rain. He was hurrying as fast as he could and his leg was killing him. He’d already been to three other places looking for her, and this was his last resort. If she wasn’t here, then he had no idea where to go next, and that thought terrified him.

He came down towards a large tree, its leaves brown and its branches half empty, and there she was. She was kneeling by one of the grave markers, still wearing the same outfit that she’d had on when she stormed out of his shop. The skirt was short, as usual, her blouse light and silky, and her red jacket was more for style than actual protection from the cold. She had to be freezing. His dress shoes slipped a little on the wet, loose stones of the path as he made his way down to her. If he’d had the time he would have put on a pair of boots or something more sturdy, but their fight and the way she’d left made him panic.

For the first time in a long time, Gold knew real fear. He’d locked up the shop without bothering to turn the lights off and almost ran down the street to try to catch her. It was barely a block before he knew he wouldn’t catch up to her, wherever she’d gone. So it was back to the shop to get his car and spend most of the afternoon driving around Storybrooke until he found her.

He didn’t know what made him think she’d be here, but the feeling was there and he’d trusted it.

“Lacey!” he called out.

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