Tiny Nothings (SQ story) Part 1
Lost moments between Emma and Regina as season 6 progresses.
To others I’m… a hero. They’ve seen my strength, my ability to do the hard things even when I thought I couldn’t.
Regina just blinked when she opened her door, her eyes falling on squared shoulders and resolute expression, nervous-looking eyes and twitching fingers, blonde hair cascading down a back she knew far too well and an accent she also recognized far too well muttering her name and just a simple request: “Can I enter?”
And she just looked so beautiful, so dauntingly precious that Regina felt her heart beating faintly as she tried to take a breath, as she tried not to step closer into Emma’s space and hug her. Hug her like she had been about to do on that haunted apartment. That, however, wasn’t the moment and as Emma’s green eyes focused on her own- emerald irises glazed with unshed tears as red splotches covered her cheeks and neck - she knew she wouldn’t be able to step closer, to come closer to the woman she seemed about to fall apart and yet looked about to turn and run, run and never look back.
She had heard the words, the hushed rumors being tossed and repeated like a mantra as she had tried not to listen to them; how Emma’s walls weren’t nonexistent anymore. She, however, knew that the openness, the one Snow and David seemed unable to not look at, was just another kind of walls. Walls that were invisible to the untrained eye and yet Regina saw painfully clear as she licked her lips and hug her midriff, Emma all hard planes and convenient shadows in the middle of her hall. Walls that were created and were honed by the notion, the belief, of not being able to be anything else but what she was.
“I’m afraid” Her eyes screamed, clear, loud, her posture unnatural and her hands tightly closed at both of her sides. To the brunette the blonde made her think about the savior she had once saw as her own conclusion, as her death, the one she had seen in nightmares and the days after the first curse had been lifted; the one that wasn’t supposed to be but yet was. And that perhaps hurt her more because she now knew Emma, the Emma that believed in people and was open to fight with whatever she had and would yes, do reckless things but kept standing over and over again. And those traits hadn’t appeared because of her title, because of her name and title, but because she was, as she had put it all those years ago, a decent person. The kind of one that was rare and so painfully fascinating Regina felt her own hands clenching into thin air, nails digging on her hands as she did so.
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