This back and forth was, metaphorically, giving her a whiplash. He’d made his choice, and yet, somehow, he kept coming back to her, leading her on, and then breaking her down. Mary Margaret had never been like this; she was practically acting like a lovesick schoolgirl. And here he was again - with sweet words and eyes that seemed sincere, but there was only the bigger inevitability that he’d go home, back to Kathryn, and leave her to tend to tatters left from heartbreak. “You need to stop. You can’t keep doing this.” Her words are quiet, and she refuses to look at him; her resolve upon seeing him would likely shatter. “I already told you, the right thing would be to not lead me on. Don’t you get that?”

“You know, your men might have all survived Neverland if they actually learned how to fight properly.” She might have been raised a Princess, a lush life with the best comforts, but she was better at swordfighting than most of the men aboard the Jolly Roger, and a better archer than probably all of them. Archery wasn’t exactly the most necessary skill aboard a pirate ship, but it was handy to have good aim, nonetheless. Some of the pirates here barely seemed to know their elbows from their.... well, one got the point. “Have you ever considered that?”

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“You look like you might want to talk about something.” After all, they’d been sitting at Granny’s for thirty minutes, and she hadn’t said a word; was just staring into a glass like it might have the answers to the universe. Of course, it might. Mary Margaret wasn’t exactly one to judge - she had been there before Talia, doing basically the same thing. Still, perhaps Talia’s problems were easier to deal with now than her own. “If you want to.”