Illusions

Chapter Sixteen

"So, do you need help with that fire?"

Regina exhales slowly and Emma doesn't need to see the details of her face to know she's irritated with her, she just doesn't know why? She's not a mind reader.

"I suppose."

Emma steps beside the woman without another word spoken and hates how her nostrils are immediately inhaling the floral and lavender scent, like she's desperate for the aroma. She mentally kicks herself and busies her mind with creating a roaring fire. She works dutifully, filling the fireplace with thick logs and lots of newspaper below and soon the flames are roaring to life and warming her hands and face right up.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You don't have a fireplace."

"I don't."

"Do I dare ask you to stay? Or will you be running off home to sit alone in the cold."

Emma purses her lips, failing miserably to suppress her amused smile. "I can stay," she sasses, with a hint of playful nature while her eyes roll dramatically. "You got any of that spiked apple cider? I think that might help keep us warm."

"I do, make yourself at home," Regina flatly replies as she sashays away and Emma's eyes linger for a few extra seconds, wondering why Regina is being so short with her this evening?

She breathes through the torment clunking around in her brain and begins gathering pillows and blankets to set up in front of the fire to keep warm and comfortable. She tosses them all to the ground and sits cross legged in front of the fire.

"Are you hungry?" Regina suddenly pipes up as she struts back over to the fire with two glass tumblers and a bottle of her homemade apple cider.

And god does she hate how one simple question can steal her heart away. Nobody ever gave a damn if Emma was hungry when she was little and now this woman is always checking in with her and offering her food and drinks and Emma is such a sucker for the compassion, that she is willing to dig her own beating heart out of her chest and hand it right over to the sassy brunette.

"I'm fine, thanks." Regina nods curtly and settles beside her. She quickly pours two full glasses and hands one to Emma, never making eye contact and now she knows this woman is mad at her for something. "Thanks," she tries again, lifting her glass and consuming a hefty sip.

"Of course."

"So," she exhales, staring aimlessly into her glass as she listens to the wood crackling beside her. "Has Henry showed any interest in going back to visit with your mother?"

Regina swallows her liquor and slowly shakes her head. "No, he hasn't, but then again he hasn't been as distant with me this week."

"Well, that's good." The room falls painfully silent, the sizzling wood and roaring flames sounding amplified in the pitch-black room. "So, hey, I was meaning to ask you, what was the song your mom was humming? I recognized it, but I just couldn't put my finger on it," she asks, hoping to lighten up the storm cloud surrounding her neighbor this evening, which is far darker than the one screaming outside.

A wistful smiles cracks into the hard exterior of Regina's scowl as she slowly sips her glass of apple cider. "Can't Help Falling In Love, by Elvis. It was her wedding song," she softly admits, those glowing eyes glossing over and shimmering from the fire dancing beside them. "My father would always serenade her with that song and now, when she's so utterly lost in her own mind, she softly hums the song," she explains, her voice swelling with a sob just lingering and waiting to be set free.