Fic: ‘no longer alone’
Title: no longer alone
Fandom: Once Upon a Time (OUaT)
Rating: (G)
Time Period: Season 1: after Graham’s death.
Summary: She still feels him.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I’ve been too busy watching and thinking about Once Upon a Time to write anything for it! Something, I felt, had to be done about this so we have this story!
Please, no spoilers; I’m still watching it!
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
Emma rolls over, her hand on the pillow beside her. Her eyes close. The tip of her tongue flicks over her lips.
He’s still there. She can still feel his lips on hers, the hand in her hair, his body leaning into hers. The hand sliding from her hair. His falling to the floor.
She screws her eyes tight and, briefly, her breathing catches.
“Emma?” The soft question, hesitant, follows a gentle knock. “If you want to talk ...”
She squeezes her eyes tighter and hears the door open. She can imagine Mary Margaret peeping in.
The door closes.
Her sigh of relief becomes a quiet choking sob. Graham, she thinks. Why are you still here?
She buries her face in her pillow; gold hair falls about her face, sticking to tear tracks on her cheeks. It’s a moment of weakness, she knows, but Henry isn’t here and she’s realising that she’s not as tough as she wants --- needs --- to be. However, she has friends now. She has Henry. She had Graham who, admittedly, was falling apart before he died although he had had lucid moments near the end.
She has Henry. That thought rolls and tumbles endlessly through her mind. Isn’t that enough?
She already knows the answer: no, it’s not. What she could have had with Gr---
“Emma, out of bed!” The extra pillow ripped from under her hand, she rolls over and glares at Mary Margaret. “Out of bed!”
“No,” she mutters and rolls onto her stomach. She knows she sounds mutinously childish but she wants to be left alone.
She hears the pillow land by the door. “Emma,” Mary Margaret sits on the bed, “come talk to me. We’ll have hot chocolate and you can tell me about it.”
“No.”
Mary Margaret shakes her head. “Please, Emma.” Mary Margaret sits beside her, brushes back the hair sticking to Emma’s cheeks. “Humour me.”
“Will you leave me alone afterwards?”
“I’ll even let you sleep in.”
Fandom: Once Upon a Time (OUaT)
Rating: (G)
Time Period: Season 1: after Graham’s death.
Summary: She still feels him.
Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).
I’ve been too busy watching and thinking about Once Upon a Time to write anything for it! Something, I felt, had to be done about this so we have this story!
Please, no spoilers; I’m still watching it!
Disclaimer
All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Edward Kitsis & Adam Horowitz; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by them.
_______________________
Emma rolls over, her hand on the pillow beside her. Her eyes close. The tip of her tongue flicks over her lips.
He’s still there. She can still feel his lips on hers, the hand in her hair, his body leaning into hers. The hand sliding from her hair. His falling to the floor.
She screws her eyes tight and, briefly, her breathing catches.
“Emma?” The soft question, hesitant, follows a gentle knock. “If you want to talk ...”
She squeezes her eyes tighter and hears the door open. She can imagine Mary Margaret peeping in.
The door closes.
Her sigh of relief becomes a quiet choking sob. Graham, she thinks. Why are you still here?
She buries her face in her pillow; gold hair falls about her face, sticking to tear tracks on her cheeks. It’s a moment of weakness, she knows, but Henry isn’t here and she’s realising that she’s not as tough as she wants --- needs --- to be. However, she has friends now. She has Henry. She had Graham who, admittedly, was falling apart before he died although he had had lucid moments near the end.
She has Henry. That thought rolls and tumbles endlessly through her mind. Isn’t that enough?
She already knows the answer: no, it’s not. What she could have had with Gr---
“Emma, out of bed!” The extra pillow ripped from under her hand, she rolls over and glares at Mary Margaret. “Out of bed!”
“No,” she mutters and rolls onto her stomach. She knows she sounds mutinously childish but she wants to be left alone.
She hears the pillow land by the door. “Emma,” Mary Margaret sits on the bed, “come talk to me. We’ll have hot chocolate and you can tell me about it.”
“No.”
Mary Margaret shakes her head. “Please, Emma.” Mary Margaret sits beside her, brushes back the hair sticking to Emma’s cheeks. “Humour me.”
“Will you leave me alone afterwards?”
“I’ll even let you sleep in.”