#glsswrks

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you like it ;)

“Mom?” Henry’s voice broke slightly at the end,the pitch suddenly rising as he entered in the living room, paper and quill onhand. Both women inside shared a quick soft smile before turning back at theteen that was now blinking owlishly at his blonde mother, clearly not havingexpected to found her there.

In front of Regina, atop the low coffee table,several books and old-looking parchments were scattered alongside with two mugs.One already empty and the other filled with cooling black coffee.

“Hey kiddo.” Emma said while nodding to theteen, smiling when he returned the gesture before he looked back at Regina, thewoman already standing from her spot at the couch, small frown on her face.

“Everything okay Henry?”

The teen shrugged and approached both of hismothers, noticing how quickly Emma closed several of the books that had beenopened when he had entered. It was no mystery the woman had started again withher magic lessons shortly after her divorce but, other than not going to thevault anymore, the two women remained tightlipped about the classes toeveryone, including him. Something that would have bothered him except it didn’t.Not after everything that had happened between all of them.

“Is the quill, it’s giving me problems again.”He started as she sat in front of both of his mothers while placing the paper-he had quickly understood that everything written on the book would beconsidered to be fixed instantly and so he always tinkered with the quill ascarefully as possible on different surfaces in order to avoid the book- betweenthem and him. “I just don’t… I need to keep narrating but there are times inwhere I just don’t know how to. Or how to start.”

He blinked before looking at Regina, hisbrunette mother already reaching for the paper in where several scribbled linesstill glowed thanks to the quill’s power. Emma, however, was looking at him,fingers interlaced as she tilted her head to one side, lips pursed into a line.

It had been disconcerting to see his mothergoing back to the image of the woman he had still on his mind whenever heremembered the times when he had first met her. Some of the times in where hefound himself looking at her the look on her eyes resembled to the times whenshe had just started to become accustomed to Storybrooke and, he discovered, thatwas one of those looks.

“You mean that the magic doesn’t work?” Reginawas saying, picking the parchment and reading the lines with the half-smile shealways had had whenever he had brought home his graded papers. He knew he wasalready too old to feel nothing but embarrassment but he found himself blushingever so slightly before shaking his head, not really knowing how to explainwhat he felt.

“No, it’s…”

“You don’t know how to start writing.” Emmafinished for him, smiling when he nodded back. He had never felt unsure of whatto write but the work of slowly feeling the stories positioning themselvesinside his mind, ready to be written, was quickly becoming something taxing andwith it the fear of not doing his work properly, his duty, was slowly growinginside his chest whenever he added a new line to someone’s story.

“There are scenes that I don’t know where tostart or how.” He admitted before ironing his jeans with his hands, his fingersfeeling cold against the fabric. While he did that, Emma read the paper movingcloser to Regina who had lowered it while listening to both of them, a softlook touching her pupils while doing so. It was a look Henry had been seeing onher more frequently these days but he merely stared at Emma as the woman readthe lines, tongue peeking between her teeth as she did so.

“See, how about you start by the action itself?Think back on the book Snow gave you. You can change a few lines there, put acomma here… see?” As she talked she pointed at a few points of the paper, themagic within it glowing beneath her touch, as if sensing her own power. Reginahad opened her mouth, seeming about to say something but, ultimately, didn’ttalking at all and Henry found himself looking at the lines with new eyes,smiling as he saw what Emma had meant. Standing and giving Emma a quick nod beforemuttering a quick thank you he turned and went back to his room, the sound ofhis steps not really drowning the sound of his mother’s voices.

“You… write?”

“I did, back when Iwas a teen, when I had already lost hope on finding my parents or a familyagain. I preferred to think on the adventures I would have and writing seemedas something I could do well. Did a few courses even after I started as a bailbondsperson but I eventually stopped. I mean, I wasn’t Shakespeare, I justenjoyed it.”

“You never cease tosurprise me dear…”

“That’s the point,right?”

Looking back at the book he had left openedback on his bed, Henry smiled as the beginning of a drawing he had leftunfinished when he had left the room was starting to color itself showing bothof his mothers looking at each other with a smile on their lips and one smallline written behind it:

Thank you for the prompt! Hope you like it ;)

Some were silver lined, squiggling lines thatwrote a story Regina was never truly sure of how to read. Some others wereslightly bulkier, red rimming the old borders that embedded themselves intosmooth skin as pale as the magic its owner wielded. Some others were short,scrapes almost, that followed muscles the former queen entertained herselfcaressing and kissing them every night Emma fell asleep and her own nightmareswoke her up.

The first time she had finally took out Emma’sblouse she had not look at the scars until the blonde had flipped them over, lighttouching the savior’s shoulders, haloing her tresses as Regina looked at her,smile dancing on her lips as she laughed, light bubbles of magic clinkingtogether inside her chest. She had blinked and followed one of the longer scars,recognizing the vestige of a bladed weapon in the too clean-cut borders. Thesheriff had shivered, Regina’s name falling out of her lips but hadn’t moveduntil Regina had kissed her again, hands moving from the lines at her chest tothe woman’s shoulders, kneading and digging until Emma had whimpered into hermouth.

It hadn’t been until later that night, afterEmma had curled her arms around her, heart beating slow but strongly on herchest where Regina was, that she had truly started to wonder, eyes alight withmagic that seeped out of the dormant sheriff’s body into hers. She had wonderedand written nonexistent words in the woman’s forearms until she, too, hadfallen asleep. A slight smile touching her lips as her eyelids fell.

From that day on she had discovered herself thinkingabout the scars, the way they felt under her lips whenever she kissed them,starting from the ones that marred the sheriff’s biceps. Every small touch,every shared smile, every magic spark only mapping a puzzle she didn’t reallywell know what to make of it. That’s why she kissed and touched, narrowing hereyes at the scars, at the way they whorled around Emma’s body.

She never asked, never truly knowing if shecould and so she looked at them, thinking on the times her mother had hurt her,scars disappearing as soon as Cora laid a hand on her, the tendrils of the samemagic she had come to despise healing the spots that would be bruised a fewhours afterwards. She, however, stared and wished to know, running her fingersthrough the blonde’s locks.

“I got that one in my first barfight.” Emma,however, ended up answering, smiling when she saw Regina looking at her,unguarded, too surprised to even feign anything but attention. “I was trying towork in a bar and some guy entered drunk enough to think he could startpunching people.”

The scar was long, but the line it created wasslightly broken and the flesh seemed too terse, too strange to actually be apart of Emma. It went from the blonde’s right forearm to almost touching herwrist and for a moment Regina caressed it with one single finger, the sheriffhumming, eyes glazed.

“I don’t have any.” Regina murmured, her owneyes narrowing as she kept her voice low, the late hours making the atmosphereat Granny’s seem ideal for telling secrets but the quietness didn’t hide thelate patrons or the slightly drunk Leroy. Emma nodded at that, moving back whena waitress approached them both, answering to the silent question they shared everytime, tension filling them up, never truly breaking through as they hid thecaresses and kisses as much as Emma’s scars.

“Don’t you want to cover them up?” Regina askedafter staring down at the waitress, feeling again like a very much youngerversion of herself, too open and raw.

The other woman’s answer, however, was as rawas she felt and for that she stood transfixed, looking at her as she feltsomething inside of her shift.

“Would you?”

And so, she shook her head.

Thank you for the prompt ;) Hope you like it!

A suddencrash echoed through the mansion making Regina glance at the stairs that led tothe bedroom’s floor with sudden dread from the living room where she had beenseated at for less than ten minutes.

“Emma?” Sheasked, not really screaming but raising her voice just enough for it to floattowards the stairs where the blonde woman had disappeared several minutesprior.

“Did youlike the vase my mother got you last Christmas?” Came the muffled answer asRegina sighed and left the sofa she had been at, book and any idea of a relaxedafternoon all but forgotten.

“Emma!”

This timeit was a scream what reverberated against the walls of the mansion and as Reginaclimbed up the stairs with long strides Emma’s answer “It was a joke, baby, Iswear! Nothing is broken!” fell into deaf ears.

Once in theupper hall it was easy to find the blonde standing in the middle of their bedroomwith the door wide open and a look of utter guilt marring her eyes. Arching abrow just enough to let her know she wasn’t going to let that one go, Reginaentered the room and crossed her arms, her eyes frantically searching foranything that could signal what was broken.

“Regina…”Emma whispered as she took a step towards her, right hand at her back and theother playing with her shirt, nervously tugging it.

“Whathappened?” Regina demanded with a stern look that soon dissipated when she sawthe look Emma threw at her, nervous and slightly dubious. “Emma, what happened?”The second time her voice came out softer but still demanding and for it theblonde seemed to discuss  with herselffor a couple of seconds before she pointed out to the seemingly in perfectstate jewelry box that stood at the bedside table on Regina’s side.

“Butnothing is broken, I swear.” The blonde insisted, one hand still at her back. “Ijust stumbled and it fell.”

The answerseemed honest enough and the way the blonde looked at her, very much like whenHenry was caught into doing something he knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing,was enough for Regina to trust the younger woman. However, she reflected as shecame closer, sensing magic floating in the room’s atmosphere, a possible trickthe blonde had performed in order to put every piece of her jewels back inplace as Regina had come up the stairs, the blonde’s hand at her back naggedher, bothered her enough to point it out as she softly spoke. “Show me what’sbehind your back? Please?”

She couldsee Emma recoil when the words were out, a phantom of the times the blonde hadbeen considered a robber by default. There were past that, Emma was past that, butthere were moments in which things could be seen on the blonde, some sort ofreflection that now made her eyes glow as Regina licked her lips, feeling remorsebut still interested enough to smile once before tilting her chin, asking forthe blonde to show her what was had the younger woman’s back.

Slowly, theblonde came closer to Regina, her feet not doing a single sound on the carpet,and opened up her hand, a single ring -one Regina recognized at hers- shinningon her palm.

“I wantedto size it.” Emma admitted with red dusting her cheeks, her voice much morefragile than before.

“Wh…” Thequestion died on Regina’s lips the second she saw Emma quickly glancing at her,green eyes gleaming. Chuckling to herself she closed the remaining distancebetween the two of them and kissed the blonde softly on her lips. “Want theanswer now?” She asked when Emma took a step backwards, small but enough fortheir lips not to e touching anymore.

“Not yet.”Emma admitted, smiling dazedly. “But soon?”

Follow the sqchristmas tag on my blog for the rest of the prompts! And feel free to ask more ;)

Henry wants to spend christmas with both his moms at the mansion, so Regina decides Emma can stay in the guestroom, however she never ends up in the guestroom ;) Asked by @glsswrks  

“I’ve already put sheets here so… you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Right.”

The two women looked at each other, both of them leaning on their own respecting doorjambs as the lights at the corridor titillated softly due to the heavy blizzard that seemed to have decided to take residence on Storybrooke that night. Emma fiddled with the hem of her shirt as she looked at the brunette, eyes trained on some point between Regina and herself, cheeks painted red and flushed.

Regina, on her part, toyed with the pendant at her neck, her fingers grazing her collarbones as she played with the cord, unsure of what else to say, on what else to do. The movement called Emma’s attention and for a moment the brunette felt her gaze, burning, before the blonde nibbled her bottom lip and looked away, hands falling at both sides of the younger woman, eyes glowing.

It had happened well after Henry had grunted something close to a goodbye, already too old for goodnight kisses. Once all the food that hadn’t been eaten had been stored away the two of them had seated at the brunette’s sofa, glasses in hands and soft smiles spreading over mumbled stories and secrets over Henry’s early years, over Emma’s adventures, over tiny nothings as the first snowflakes had started to fell at the other side of the window, painting grey in the black sky.

Regina hadn’t known when it had been the moment she had laughed so hard she had just thrown her head backwards, her temple colliding with Emma’s shoulder -when they had gotten so close?- making both of them gasp between quiet, bubbling laughs that had ended with her resting her head fully on the blonde’s shoulder, her weight shifting so she could just enjoy the planes and curves of the younger body, glass still between her fingers, her thumb caressing the slippery surface as Emma’s voice kept lulling her, calming her nerves.

It had been a long set of months, that’s what she had said to herself a second before losing conscience, falling into dreams that spoke about warmth and home, about magic and laughter, about family and… Emma.

Emma, who had woken her by kissing her temple, touch just as light as a feather. Emma, whose neck had felt warm and soft under her fingers as she, still half-asleep, had closed the gap between them, kissing those lips she had been dreaming about, a soft sigh escaping them before Emma had pulled away, blush already spreading, eyes as green as ever and the trace of her lipstick tracing the edges of her mouth, lines Regina had realized she wanted to follow with her nails before kissing them again. And again.

Emma, who had bolted, straightening herself before offering her her hands, a piece offering that had tasted ashen on Regina’s lips and tongue, her dreams already fading, her own blush curling at the back of her ears.

“I’m sorry.” She had said and Emma had smiled that soft smile, hands at her back pockets, she had caught herself wanting to kiss it again.

But she hadn’t and so there were they; peering inside the guest room as if afraid of what could be inside, afraid of what could happen if they gave any thought on wat had just happened on, what they had felt.

It was Regina the first one who smiled tight-lipped before pushing herself away from the doorjamb, hands clutching now her forearms, squeezing them as tightly as she could while she turned to leave, ready to take the remaining alcohol with her and fall into a numbing sleep. It was Emma though the one who followed her steps, hand already at her cheek, warm and soft, as she tucked a lock of the brunette’s hair behind her ear.

“I always liked it when you had it short.” She commented, smile returning to her lips, curving them, almost like a secret no one but them could share. And Regina melted.

She melted the moment Emma took a shaky breath and closed the distance, their shoulders brushing the wall as Emma pushed her against it, ever so tender, ever so slow, letting her decide, letting her move.

She didn’t move however, not wanting to ruin or change a thing, her own hands already climbing up Emma’s shoulders, locking themselves behind the younger woman’s neck, brushing the soft hairs that grew there. The caress made Emma narrow her eyes as she bit her bottom lip, one last word escaping her mouth before she moved forward, leg between Regina’s, hand still cupping her cheek, the other at her waist, burning the brunette, scorching her flesh.

“Yes”

And there were many things they could have said in that moment but they didn’t and as the snow and blizzard kept falling and howling outside Regina let out a soft sigh before pulling Emma as close as possible, hands now clutching the blonde’s shirt, rumpling it as she arched her body into the blonde’s touch, a purple mist covering them, their shadows the last thing that disappeared form the now deserted hall.

They never slept that night.