#anybody that falls outside of that doesn't create the same spark

[leocreates]

I don't think there's a single band I like where I care about any of the band members.

[shadowdianne]

I don't know if you've done this before, but I would love to read a fic where Regina's meant to be Emma's maid of honour, but she doesn't show up, until she bursts into Emma's wedding full on 'sorry, I'm late' and declares her love (please don't do that thing where they get married instead)

I’ve definetely done something like that beforexd Either way thanks for the prompt; I hope you like my take on it (And don’tworry, I wasn’t planning on writing that 😉)

PS: For describing purposes I’ll be settingthis as if the actual wedding was at the town hall instead of where it was.(Just so Regina has a real door she can burst in)

A03 Version

The continuous humming of sobs and whisperedcompliments were the first thing Emma heard falling silent as she licked herlips and tried to answer for a second time to Archie’s question withoutstumbling on the two small -apparent not so simple- words. Hook’s growl ofanger was, however, what broke the debilitating sensation on her neck and limbsas she, finally, glanced up from their conjoined hands in where rings couldalready be seen.

The town hall had been beautifully decorated inall sorts of whites; whites that Emma had already forgotten its correctdenomination. It was, perhaps because of that, that Regina standing in themiddle of the already open doors with a blue dress that didn’t look in the slightestlike the soft pink Snow had picked for the bridesmaids, stood in sight as shesquared her shoulders and smirked, almost sadly, to the almost newlyweds.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

People gasped and Emma could feel Hook alreadygrowling again as several of the fairies clawed at their dresses, searching fortheir wands. It could have been a comic sight if it wasn’t because of the brokenglance Henry -seated front and center- directed not only at his brunette motherbut to Emma as well as the blonde saw how Regina walked down the middle of theaisle, not once looking at anybody but Emma, with the skin-tight blue dressEmma could remember already having seen on her and dark circles behind hereyes.

Last time she had seen a similar image the twoof them had been on the wish realm; protected by the fact that nothing wasreal. Now, however, as she saw her father turn and narrow his eyes at Reginawhile Snow placed a placating hand on his shoulder, the uncomfortablesimilarity of both ceremonies was enough to render her speechless.

Finally stopping three steps away from the couple,Regina tilted her head to her right, visibly nibbling her bottom lip beforeHook threw himself at her, only stopped by Emma’s sudden grip on his suit’sfabric.  Turning like a rabid dog, theman shrugged out Emma’s clasp as the blonde kept on staring at Regina, half ofher wishing for the whole ordeal to just be a miscommunication and for thebrunette to be about to sit or stand beside her. Just like she had asked her todo half a month ago.

“What are you doinghere?”

The brunette’s eyes, however, spoke in the samevolume they had done that night in where Emma had knocked on her door with herhands already trembling and just too much pressure on her shoulders. Regina hadlet her enter and had led her to the study only to lean on the closing door ofthe room as Emma explained herself in shushed vocals and strained consonants.

“That’s what you want?” Regina had asked andEmma had felt the same debilitating sensation that had accompanied her thatvery same day as she had put on dress with the striking recognition that EmmaSwan would disappear that very same afternoon. Back at that night those weeksago, however, she had swallowed and glanced at the older woman with a pleadingglint on her eyes, fingers fiddling with the ring, the ring that felt cold andtacky and far too similar to a death sentence than an actual source of joy.

“Regina…”

The brunette had glanced at her feet beforeturning her hands into fists, a fast, curt nod shaking her head as she hadfinished with one last nail to what Emma felt to be a coffin, a tomb. One shewas walking into for reasons she felt far too difficult to truly put into words.

“If that’s what you wish…”

But Regina hadn’t appeared, hadn’t said a word,not even when Emma had tried to call her, staring at Zelena and admitting theuncomfortable truth that ever since she had asked her to be her maid of honorRegina had barely spoken to her only to be met with the redhead’s growl. Yet,there she was, dressed in blue and gorgeous enough for Emma to dig her nails onthe palms of her hands as she kept on staring at her, unable, unwilling, tolook at anywhere else but her.

“Emma?”

Sucking on her breath the blonde blinked andswallowed, Hook’s fingers being now the ones that dig painfully on her forearmas the two of them kept on staring at the brunette. Brunette whose eyes shonepurple as she took a small step towards her while the citizens of Storybrookecollectively shared a gasp.

“I need to talk to you.”

Regina’s voice sounded broken, dejected enoughfor Emma to close her eyes for longer than a second, her mind bringing her backto that other night once again when she had been handled an opportunity she hadbeen ready to destroy.

“Then you should have come before.”

Hook’s venomous words broke the spell, however,and Emma separated herself from him, unwilling to look at him as Regina kept onlooking at her. She didn’t need to really explain more, Emma realized. Therehad been one reason only for Emma to go alone to tell Regina that she wantedher as her maid, the same reason of why she had known that the former queen hadhesitated before asking, yet again if that was what she wanted. The same reasonwhy she had known that very morning why Regina hadn’t appeared or why Henry hadkept on glancing at his phone while shooting at her warning looks.

Looks Emma had feigned not to see while feelingenough of a coward to want to cry.

How, when, she had decided to say yes despitethe screams her mind kept on sending from the back of her mind. When had shedecided to step out her own persona and wear the one everyone thought would bebest for her? When had she decided to be a copy of a woman she truly wasn’t orfelt?

Outside her doubts, Regina kept eyeing her, themagic on her eyes slowly dying out as the tension escalated and Hook pushed herto say those two pesky little words.

“I giveher a choice!” Regina’s scream was what broke Emma’s prison, the brunette’sposture changing from pleading to angry as she stood in front of the city; backstraight as a rod. “I don’t cash on past assistances only so she feels forcedto see me in a new light!”

This time it was Henry who stood next to hisbrunette mother as Hook took the final two steps towards Regina, black omenwritten on his eyes.

“She saved your life your majesty, don’t youhave enough?” His words were whispered but were loud enough, aggressive enough,for Emma to feel them scalding her own skin as she, for the first time, foughtagainst the haze her former actions had descended upon her eyes.

“I saved her life.”

Everyone, fairies, her parents, Zelena herself,turned from Regina and Hook to her as she glanced down; not at her hands but atthe dress. A dress that felt constrictive, oppressive.

“I saved her life.” She tasted the words andshed a smile, glancing at Regina as she did so. “I did that for her, not foranyone else.”

“Love…”

His wordswere suddenly unbearable in the same way she felt like screaming and so sheapproached Regina and said the words she had dreamt on admitting ever since shehad glanced at the older woman at the town line and just about to be given ahappy ending that didn’t felt like it was one but only a poor reflection foranother one. One she had seen so clearly that had robbed her the faculty ofspeak until it had been far too late.

“I’m inlove with you.”

The answerof who she was, she thought as Regina repeated the words back at her, notpaying any mind to Hook’s own scream and insults, didn’t lay there, in a dressand promises that weren’t hers to say. And as much as she didn’t know where ithid anymore, that part of her, she preferred the idea of giving that to the womanin front of her, to the woman who saw her and who she was able to see as wellwithout a title and words of a past long gone and written on moth-eaten pagesthat weren’t theirs to read after all. After all, she thought as she let thehealing feeling of their conjoined magic jump between her fingers, creatingsparks that skipped on their skin, destiny could be damned.