Illusions

Chapter Eighteen

"Do you always sleep on people's floors?"

"Jesus!" She screams as her green eyes triple in size and her head automatically jerks back from the most frightening wake up call. "What the hell, kid?" She groans, her voice still attempting to wake up.

"Why are you sleeping on our floor?" Henry innocently questions, his head tilting in confusion on the pillow Emma was using five seconds ago.

She blinks away the haze surrounding her, quickly noting that yes, she's on their floor still, with the sun threatening to burn her retinas and a heap of blankets attempting to strangle her in her sleep.

"Uh," she scrambles to sit upright, because her body is sweating profusely and she feels like she's suffocating. "The power went out last night. Where's your mom?" She quickly investigates, her eyes scanning the room for any evidence that the brunette is nearby.

"She's finishing up with breakfast. She told me to come wake you up."

She inhales sharply, her senses finally waking up when she smells the smoky flavor of bacon mixed with the rich aroma of coffee.

"How long have you been watching me sleep?" She suspiciously interrogates, eyeing the boy carefully with one eyebrow suspended high.

"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging so carelessly. "Probably since I woke up."

"That's creepy, kid," she deadpans, scrubbing her hands down her face to fully wash away the tiredness still clinging to her, because sleeping on the floor was brutal. And then something clicks and she panics. "Uh...did you wake up first or your mom?"

"My mom, she was making coffee when I came downstairs. Why didn't you sleep on the couch?"

She groans, pushing herself up off the floor so she can fold the mess of blankets. "It was really cold last night, I wanted to be by the fire and your mom gave you most of the blankets so you wouldn't get cold."

"I wasn't. It was nice and warm," he smiles proudly while she snarls in response, because she would have given anything to switch sleeping arrangements last night, especially by the way her back and neck are crying in agony.

"Cool," she mutters and neatly stacks the blankets on the couch behind her. "Alright," she clenches his shoulder and shoves him toward the hall, "let's go find your mom."

"You look...different," he mumbles, scrutinizing her half-asleep appearance and sloppy bun that's in utter disarray from sleeping on a wet head.

She self-consciously tugs her sweatshirt down then shoves her hands into the front pocket and scoffs under her breath like a disgruntle teenager.

"Yeah, well, you look different too, kid. Nice Spider-Man pajamas," she teases, but he grins from ear to ear and pulls his shirt forward so he can inspect the print like he's never seen it before.

"You like it? My mom bought it for me after we watched the movie," he tells her, so blissfully ignorant to her teasing, so she ruffles his messy mop of hair and shoves him playfully toward the kitchen table.

"Yeah, kid, I like it. Team Superheroes," she laughs as Henry slides into his seat at the table and she trudges her heavy feet to where the delicious aroma is wafting from. "Good morning," she shyly says, sneaking up behind the most laid back mayor she has ever seen.

"Good morning," Regina hums, glancing over her shoulder and flashing the most adorable smile before her attention is back on the food sizzling in the skillet. "I take it you aren't a morning person," she sasses.

But Emma's eyes are busy studying to memorize that tight bottom in those even tighter yoga pants, but what really catches her eye, is the high ponytail flopping around. It has to be the most adorable and yet sexy thing she has ever seen.