The Heart That Beats For Her

Chapter Sixteen

Now, as they drift into September, Regina's nightmares may visit once a week, sometimes once every other week and Emma calls that a win. Regina calls it a slow process. Nonetheless, they are healing, they are growing...

Together.

Emma glances to her right when she feels a heavy weight pulsating beside her, to discover Regina hiding behind her camera. Her eyes quickly dart back onto the road as her grip tightens around the steering wheel.

"What are you doing?" She hastily interrogates.

"Well, you and this damn thing are always snapping away at me when I'm lost in a moment, so I thought I should return the favor," Regina casually explains, her voice extra light, like she's dancing across an array of clouds and Emma knows she's content with life in this moment.

"Stop," Emma groans, but it's half-hearted as her right hand reaches across her tiny bug for her camera. Regina scoots back though, until she is flush against the car door, her smile shining brighter than a thousand suns as her finger starts snapping away. "Come on, I'm behind the camera, you're my muse," she teases, her hand falling away from the camera to grip Regina's thigh and squeeze, knowing that's her weak spot.

"Swan," Regina growls in a threatening tone, one hand swooping down to swat Emma's intrusive hand away. Emma quickly flashes a cocky grin before she squeezes tightly, provoking a little squeal to escape Regina's plump lips. "Stop it," she commands, attempting to shove Emma's hand away while her other hand captures a very crooked picture of Emma laughing with her arm still on Regina's thigh. "Pay attention to the road," Regina suddenly snaps, forcing Emma to slink back to her side of the car because she doesn't want to cause any fear or panic for her friend from her past trauma.

"Alright, alright, but can you please not take anymore pictures of me?" She whines, firmly placing her hands at ten and two for added safety.

"Why?" Regina curiously asks, her tone less edgy than moments ago. Emma seems to have that effect on her, easily washing away any fear or panic festering from within.

"I don't know," Emma mumbles, shrugging noncommittally. "I like being behind the camera, not in front of it."

"Really? Could have fooled me by how many damn selfies you take of us," her friend scoffs, but Emma simply smirks and rolls her eyes playfully.

"That's different. I don't like all the attention on me. When I take a selfie with you, I'm in control of the picture and you're right there with me. I don't like when I'm center focus and I'm just standing there while someone is snapping away. I feel...awkward."

Unexpectedly, Regina reaches across the center console, the back of her fingers brushing Emma's straightened hair over her shoulder to rest down her back. Yes, Regina has been a little more generous with her touches lately, but that still doesn't calm the shiver that always runs down Emma's spine with every contact.

"That's a shame-"

"What is?" Emma nervously blurts out, her eyes flicking from the road ahead to Regina, back to the countryside once again.

"That you feel uncomfortable in front of a camera, you're beautiful."

Emma scoffs at this, but the heat seems to be rising in her cheeks anyways. "I am not."

"Oh shut up, Swan. You're gorgeous and really, you should be the model, not the photographer."

A violent heat blazes through her veins, flushing through her system from the compliment and it burns every coherent thought imaginable.

"Whatever," is all she can murmur in response, because she was never really good at accepting compliments.

Emma nervously runs her fingers through her hair, self-conscious and hating how she's under Regina's intense scrutiny once again. She's sure her friend is doing what she always does when she stares that hard, searching for any similarities with her husband. She exhales slowly, leans against the door and attempts to regulate her breathing and not think about that.