mooglesmuse
Emma Swan was tired of tales. Fairytales, to be specific. Ever since her son had shown up on her doorstep, her life had revolved around the stories-- the stories of her parents, her friends, and even herself. For a girl that could never rely on the false hope that fairytales offered, it was more than a little nauseating. And now that she had broken the curse, keeping all the pieces of the broken endings together had taken up most of her energy. Most, but not all. The Sheriff had just enough left in her by the end of the day to find herself tangled in the sheets of the one person she never should have gotten this far with. Regina Mills was the one person Emma should not find solace in, yet was the only one that could give it to her. Every night as she snuck out of Mary Margaret's apartment, as she kissed Henry on his forehead, as she ignored the persistent warning that this was a horrible situation, she promised herself it would be the last time. But it never was. And she knew that if it kept up much longer, it would begin to turn into something else. Something more. Something involving feelings, which frightened Emma to her very core. She made people think that she was closed off and let herself love very rarely, but the truth was that she loved too much. She knew if she let her burgeoning feelings for Regina present themselves, even in the sweaty post-coital bliss that was found under Regina's sheets, neither of them would be able to handle it. They would lash out, things would end, and there would no longer be anything anchoring Emma to reality, to sanity. And the worst part of all was that either way, Emma would not be getting a happy ending. Then again, she never thought she was meant to.
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