The brief hour with David had done nothing quell her nerves for what was about to come. It slithered across her mind that perhaps she should simple flee, ridiculous as it would be, it would certainly save her from looking like a complete bumbling idiot out there.
She fumbling with a bracelet behind the staircase, scowling and swearing at the offensive piece of jewelry. It’s where he finds her. Hiding in the shadows lest anyone see how absolutely terrified she is in this upcoming moment. His brow cocks high as she throws the gold chain across the room with a growl.
“Did it not like the color of your dress or something?”
She spins around, “Jesus, David,” a hand to her chest as she sags into the desk chair, “They didn’t teach you to knock in Shepherd School?”
Normally he’d bite back, play their strange little jesting game. But something dabbles in the back of his mind, something rather unexpected. She looks anxious. Beyond actually. Her fingers scratch at the bodice of her pale pink dress, knee’s bouncing uncontrollably as she stares out the window. He’s never actually seen her like this before. For a moment he thinks about retrieving his wife, or perhaps her thief, but Snow is busy with Emma, and Robin asked David to check in on her while he tucked a ring into his pocket with a shy smile.
Chuckling he moves to squat before her, grabbing her hands between his own as she stares wildly down at the strange affection.
“You’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”
She huffs, tucks a lock of fallen hair behind her ear. He expects her to say something about them figuring out that she is the Evil Queen, or that Emma is the Dark One. But the quiet muffled whisper of “What if I forget the steps?” stuns him.
He laughs, shakes his head an chuckles heartily as she bumps him hard with her knee, an exasperated “David! It’s not funny!” whimpering out. He grins, looks up at the woman that was once feared so terrible, and she is utterly terrified about a simple dance.
Standing, he tugs her up with him, “If you do, I’m sure Robin won’t mind. He probably has other things on his mind anyway.”
“What?”
David stills, kicking himself for even letting a part of the secret out. “I just meant the guy clearly loves you and won’t give two shits whether you steps on his toes once or twice.”
She sighs, peering up at him unconvinced, and they are already late, so he best get her there, or the outlaw will surely have his head. He tucks her hand into the crook of his arm, “Come on, Madame Savior. The crowd awaits.”
It’s unexpected the gentle kiss he presses to her cheek, an action that stuns the Queen for a second before she gives him a quizzical look, though David pays no mind to it as he guides her from the shadows and towards the stairs.
#26: An apology
#49: Out of Necessity
Ship: Dragon Queen
For: @trina-deckers
------------
She’s pushed her far this time. Crossed a boundary she didn’t know was there. It riddles her with guilt as she sits on the chaise, watching silently as the young queen dresses with red rimmed eyes, tears she refuses to let spill in front of the Dragon.
It has been a simple lesson. Or at least that’s what Maleficent had intended it to be. Learning how to heal a wound. One she’d inflicted on herself and demanded Regina fix. She hadn’t realized however that this particular lesson would have the Queen shaking so terribly, eyes consumed with fear and self doubt as she knelt over her teacher’s bleeding wound.
She wasn’t planning on letting herself succumb to the injury, she’d heal it herself if necessary, but the point is for Regina to learn, to find the power within. It took too long though. The dragon’s vision began to swim, black dots puddling the sight of Regina’s tears beginning to well, the shakiness in her voice as she begged Maleficent to just heal herself, that she couldn’t do it.
But she pushed her. Refused to heal the staunching flow of blood. She herself had learned this way, in the most dire of circumstances, out of desperation. But as Regina wraps her cloak around her small shoulders, it worms into Maleficent’s heart that perhaps the Queen isn’t quite as resilient as she once thought. With all the rage and anger that skitters above the surface, beneath is something beyond fragile and it stabs Maleficent deep with guilt to know she exposed it.
“Wait.”
She stands swiftly, swallowing down the bile that waters her jaw as she approaches Regina carefully who avoids her gaze with a hard sniff the other direction. Mal finds her fingers first, squeezes them softly as her head bows low in remorse, blonde curls sweeping around her shoulders. “I am sorry Regina. I didn’t mean--”
“Yes well, maybe next time you should think before you do something so incredibly stupid.” Regina huffs wetly, wiping away the tears that drop onto her cheeks. The dragon nods solemnly, bringing Regina’s hand to her lips, dotting a light apologetic kiss to her knuckles before bringing her hand to rest against her heart. “I know. It won’t happen again.”
Dark eyes flicker towards her, the anger simmering, hiding the swell of vulnerability beneath. They have not spoken of it, these feelings that grow. Maleficent knows there is fear for the Queen in speaking those words. In all honesty it unnerves her as well, this relentless need to be close, to protect, to share her heart with the young woman. But it is there none the less.
Regina sighs heavily, scowls at the roaring fireplace for a long moment. “I couldn’t save Daniel.” She turns, bringing a palm up to Maleficent’s cheek, arching up to press her lips softly against the Dragon’s. “Never put me in the position where I can’t save you as well.” She kisses her gently again, pulling back with a wet pop, grinning small as Maleficent blindly follows Regina’s lips.
“I should go.” Regina retracts slowly, turning her palm over to ready her magic to bring her back to the imprisonment of her other life.
Mal curls her fingers over the skittering of purple smoke that begins to stream out, stalling Regina’s magic.
“Please stay.”
She shouldn’t.
She can’t.
She does.
And the Dragon falls harder in love with the Young Queen.
She exhales in her sleep, burying herself lower into the pillow.
“Mommy wake up!” A tiny finger prods her cheek, little hands moving up cup her cheeks, “Mommy.” She hears his indignant huff, grins in her half awake stupor as a small body slides down beneath the covers beside her. His palms pat gently on her chest, a wiggling of bare toes against her stomach. She loves these moments. When the world has yet to wake and it’s just her and her little prince curled up together.
Her eyes crack open to find her baby toying with a curl of her hair as he patiently waits for her to rise from sleep. Her fingers move to card through his hair, her heart melts at the way the hazel in his eyes lights up.
“You’re awake!” He scrambles up her body, rolling them both over till she is on her back, shuffling up to rest against the head board with him in her lap. She smiles, rearranging his spider-man pyiamas around his little belly. “Good Morning my little prince.”
He beams, with six tiny teeth, pink freckled cheeks and messy bed head sticking up in a dozen different directions. He lands a wet smacking kiss to her cheek before burrowing down into her chest, hugging little arms around her tightly.
She glows as his muffled I love you mommy. In a life of loneliness, he is the one good thing she has and these mornings make her forget about those days when she was nothing but the Evil Queen.
She just wishes she could freeze time, keep him small and soft and cuddled around her forever.
He’s out of his mind. Downright insane. He is absolutely fucking insane.
It’s the only explanation for what just babbled out of his mouth. For the utterly ridiculous, rather bold jumble of words he just flung at her without even really thinking.
But that is just it.
He is thinking. About her. everything about her.
The color of her hair, the shape of her jaw, slope of her nose, how fucking amazing it would be to finally get to taste her lips that continuously bite sharp tight remarks at him behind a hidden smirk.
He thinks only of her these past couple months.
And it appears his once silent desire and penchant for her has finally voiced itself. In a rather inopportune moment. One surrounded by nearly the entire castle who all stare with wide eyes, half curious half in utter fear for the poor thief who requested something completely preposterous from the Queen.
They watch as the monarch cocks her brow, swallows the last bit of wine from her goblet before taking the first slow step towards him.
He suddenly feels like prey being stalked by her dark brown eyes that swallow him whole in her approach. The hunted tend to flee from the hunter, but he finds his boots cemented to the floor.
It’s her fingers he feels first, climbing up his chest, scratching along the base of his jaw, angling his mouth down to her. It’s impossible she is actually going to do this. Heed his suggestion. Give it anything but a snarling scowl. Perhaps this is how she hunts, gets close enough to freeze her prey before snapping their neck.
Her chin tilts up, and he swears he’s died already at the feeling of her warm breath against his lips.
“Who knew a thief had manners.” She smiles slyly, brushing punishingly up against him. It has a a grin cracking his lips as she too chuckles softly below him. He waits a half moment for her to nod, giving him permission to kiss her as he has done many nights under the shroud of darkness and secrecy.
He claims her lips fully, anchoring a hand in her hair, drinking in the surprised moan at the base of her throat. Somewhere behind him he hears his men laughing it is about bloody time.
Robin simply smiles and kisses his love again, knowing that he will spend his entire life asking for another if she is so kind to bestow one.
The sheets are cold as she told to reach for him. A harsh contrast compared to the warmth normally sweeping of his body. Hey eyes crack bleerily open, it's a few minutes past five, the light morning glow beginning to part through the curtains. For a sleepy second she hunkers back down beneath the duvet, wanting to find a few more hours of rest.
It doesn't last. Since he's been back she finds it harder to fall and stay asleep without him wrapped tight around her.
Tugging his sweater over her shoulders, she pads quietly down the stairs in search of him and his heat. With every room vacantly empty she tries to not let anxious nerves take over, forcing a repeated mantra; he's here, he is home.
And he is.
Sitting on the back porch, the slouch in his shoulders heavy.
Ignoring the slight shiver that runs over her bare legs, Regina settles down beside him, her eyes swallowing the anguish rippling across his features.
They have these moments since he's come back from New York, fractions of time spent sitting silently together while emotions run rampant beneath their armor. It's gotten easier, to talk about it, and sometimes it's better to say nothing, let the pain surface and expose itself.
Which is what Regina does now, in the filtering orange and yellow dawn skies, she simply twines their fingers together, and leans into him, letting her eyes flutter softly closed so she can focus on the rhythm of his breath.
He fiddles with her fingers for long quiet minutes, before a hard pained sniff has him bringing her hand up to his lips, over the bridge of his nose to rest over his eyes. She moves then, deflates in the chest at his sorrow but slides herself even closer, skating her free hand up his shoulder and to his jaw, nails scratching lightly at his temple.
The tears fall gently down his cheeks, soaking into the stubble below, she thinks about wiping it away, but decides maybe that's not enough.
Her lips press against the wet trail instead, softly on the Apple of his cheek, down to the corner of his lips, a third below his eye.
She feels him lean into her, blanketing himself in the comfort she provides.
There is a lot of pain still, anger, confusion and unfair suffering they both battle through. It's a long daunting and uncertain road to healing, she knows that, but she will be damned if she doesn't get him through it- he deserves to find peace after everything her sister has done.
She loves him. She will heal him. She will let him cry quietly into her skin for as long as he needs.
It took them nearly two hours of launching enough water to fill a small lake into her bar before the flames finally turned to whispy, wet smoke, the air staunch thick with the smell of charred wood, plastic and Roni’s heart. This bar was all she had, all she’s ever had. And all she was allowed to do was stand on the side, watching in horror while firefighters axed through the door she’d just had re-stained two months ago to spray a cloud of extinguishing foam over every single surface inside, soaking every inch and corner with a jet of water until nothing but sludge and burnt wood was left behind. Her entire life, up in literal flames.
While her eyes were dead set on the spiralling smoke in front of her, she didn’t realize Rowan was still standing behind her, an arm securely wrapped around her waist, holding her back from running head first into the bar, the other running up and down her bicep steadily. He’s strong behind her, and for a moment she is rather grateful to have him there. He’s the only thing keeping her upright, from keeping her from hitting the concrete and screaming.
His stubble brushes her temple as he sighs a low, sad breath, and he squeezes around her middle the moment she leans in a fraction closer, sniffing hard as the tears begins to build and burn behind her eyes. All she can do is stare as three firefighters come walking out, hanging up the hose on the truck and give their chief some sort of signal. One that he takes with a curt nod and walks over to Roni and Rowan. It takes her a second to register he is even speaking to her, there is nothing but ringing in her ears. It’s only when his hand grips gently around her wrist that she tears her gaze away from the destruction to look at him.
It’s sad eyes that meet hers.
“I am Chief Grant, I am so sorry about your bar.”
He has kind eyes, deep set within a lifetime of wrinkles, dark brown though they have a lightness about them. She listens to him start talking about how his men think it started in the back, some sort of electrical issue, though all she can do is scan his face. He seems oddly familiar. A ring of grey hair around a rather bald head, contrasted by a stark white thick goatee. She knows him from somewhere, somewhere else, his voice is familiar in the back of her mind.
“Ma’am?”
Shaking her head, she blows out a heavy breath, “Sorry, I…” The words catch in her throat, bubbling hot as the tears threaten to spill over. Rowan hugs her chastely and turns his attention to the chief, “I’ll bring her down to the station.”
“Thank you. I will be around should you have any more questions.”
“I do actually.” Rowan stiffens slightly, bending down over Roni’s shoulder, “Are you certain it was an electrical malfunction?” His voice is low and hushed as he stares at the Chief who frowns slightly. For a moment either man says anything, and Roni turns to see Rowan’s eyes lift slightly into the crowd, beyond the throngs of people in shock to a woman standing there in her pristine heels and rather smug expression as she looks at the last of the smoke filtering away into the sky.
The Chief sighs, shakes his head, and pats Robin on the shoulder, “I trust my guys.” He takes a slow inhale and looks Rowan dead in the eyes, “But if there is something you might know, someone who has a vendetta against Roni, I suggest you talk to the police.” There is something in the way he says it that has Roni’s heart clench. He knows more than he is letting on. “Again, I am truly sorry. I’ll be at the fire hall if you wish to talk further.” He smiles small, dons his hat and walks back to his crew, all still gathered in a tight circle, whispering back and forth with concerned scowls.
Something is not right. She knows it. Gus was just here only two weeks ago for her yearly maintenance. Everything was fine. In working order. He would have said something if it was otherwise. “She did it.”
Rowan turns her in his arms, lifts her chin and tucks a curl behind her ears. “We don’t know that.” It’s unconvincing. Even he knows it. “Of course I do! That bitch has had it in for me because I won’t sell my bar to her. I know it’s her.” He sighs, squeezes her hands as he brings them to his chest, a light kiss placed to her knuckles as he shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like Belfrey one bit --” Roni exhales exasperated as tears begin to fall, “-- But before we take her down, let’s make sure we have proof.”
Well that wasn’t what she was expecting him to say. She sniffs wetly, letting him wipe the tears on her cheeks, rather astounded, “You believe me?” Her heart thumps hard as he smiles crookedly at her with a slight nod. “I’m with you.” He bites down on his lip oddly shy, “And I promise, we will figure this out. Together.” For a moment she thinks he might kiss her. That this fraction of space between them may close and end with his lips on hers. He’s so close. Enough that if she just tipped her chin up they’d meet for the first time. She can see it in his eyes too, the longing to do the same thing her mind is asking for. They are the brightest blue right now, enveloping her away from the burning loss behind them.
Her breath stills when he shifts to the left just enough to have the stubble on his jaw tickling her own, scratching softly as his nose runs along her cheekbone, breathing her in heavily, his hands gripped lightly around her hips, roaming along her spine and back down. He nudges her jaw, enough to expose a slight line on her neck and Roni’s eyes close at the feeling of his lips touching just above the beauty mark. It’s oddly intimate. Being kissed on the neck rather than the lips. Something she didn’t really expect to have her knees going all jelly on her over. With all the pain and loss that smokes away behind her, something about him being all wrapped up around her makes her feel unexpectedly safe. Her nails curl through the hair on the nape of his neck as she leans her forehead into the crook of his shoulder, feeling the way his heart thrums a touch off kilter as she hums quietly between them and sinks into his arms.
“Roni?”
She reluctantly pulls away from Rowan who has a slight blush deep set in his cheeks though he smiles as Henry slowly walks up. “Roni, I’m so sorry.” Henry’s hand grips hers, and she follows into a tight hug. Beside her, she feels little arms wrap around her waist as Lucy squeezes in, embracing her fiercely with a quiet “Me too Roni.”
“Thanks.” She smiles wetly, wipes a few brimming tears and blows out a half chuckling breath. “I could use a drink.” Henry grins, though his eyes sadden as he looks at the remnants of her bar. He knows how much she loved this place. It was her home. She lived there. Above the bar. It’s gone now. Her entire home, engulfed in a fiery rage. “After you talk to the police, all the rounds are on me. Okay?” He squeezes her once more before stepping back.
Roni groans, she’d forgotten Rowan mentioning to the chief he’d be taking her down to the station. She doesn’t need the police. She needs her bat and about five minutes with Belfrey. But the thought quickly diffuses as the smoke simmers out the window. Her beloved threat of choice is probably a pile of ash now. It was her dad’s. Just another thing she’s lost now.
“Fine. But then I am going to drink all the whiskey in this city.”
“Deal.” Rowan runs a hand over her shoulder, “Now before we get stinking drunk, can I drive you down?” She nods, links her hand into his, feeling a little more sturdy as they walk slowly to his truck. As he pulls out of the lot, she throws one last look at her bar, the sign still swinging back and forth. It didn’t burn. It wasn’t destroyed. And neither is she.
------------------
“Listen, I know you think this is Belfrey but you’ve got no proof.”
“Then give me ten minutes with her and I’ll get you some.”
“And get an assault charge? Really Roni, I thought you were smarter than that.”
She huffs out a breath as Weaver deadpans her with a shrug. She’s never much liked him. Or rather doesn’t fully trust him. He’s a rogue man, plays for only himself, though she is well aware he, like so many others, is deep in Victoria’s pockets. Slamming her fist on the table she leans over, glaring down at him, “We both know my bar didn’t just magically burst into flames.”
“It was an electrical issue.”
“The hell it was!” She growls, “You know it was her.”
“And how would I know that?” He sips his coffee slowly, unphased by her anger unfurling in his face. “Why would Belfrey burn your bar to the ground?”
“Because she is a witch and I wouldn’t sell to her.”
“So this is some sort of revenge?”
The nonchalance in his tone irritates Roni to no end. He doesn’t give two shits about who burnt her home down, that much is clear. Frustrated she falls back down into her chair. “I want an investigation.”
“Into what?”
“Her.”
Weaver scoffs and rolls his eyes, “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why?” Roni snarls back, “You afraid of people finding out how crooked you really are? Tell me, how many times has she padded your pockets so you would turn a blind eye to things going on in this city? I’m sure your boss would be thrilled to know how you’ve been playing in the dark with criminals.”
The minute Weaver takes to stare at her is tense, thick enough to have the blood pulsing in her ears and he glowers at her. As he stands, Roni stiffens, leveling him eye to eye with a glare of her own.
“You want to take Belfrey down, do it yourself.”
She huffs darkly, “Oh I will.”
Grabbing her coat, the door rattles behind as she slams it shut, echoing through the station as all eyes train widely stunned to the noise. Paying them no mind, she thunders towards Rowan who stands, says nothing and follows her outside. The air is cool and crisp as she inhales heavily, demanding the tears the flourish to fuck off. She will not cry, not over Belfrey. If the bitch wants a fight, then she will get one. Rowan slides beside her, eyeing her carefully though she keeps her’s shut tight. It strikes him for a moment that she is rather adorable when she is angry, though saying it aloud would probably get him a punch square to the jaw right now. He smirks to himself and wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her in so her temple can lay against his arm.
“Whiskey?”
“Whiskey.”
He kisses the curls of her hair softly, loops his fingers into her own, and starts a slow walk to his truck. “I have a couple bottles at the shop, we can do some serious damage to them.” His smile widens as she grins quietly behind her hair, biting down on a lip he’s thought far too much about these past two weeks. There is something between them. Fast and quick as it has grown, it’s there, a hard resounding feeling in his chest that chases away all the fear about being alone for the rest of his days. She is good for him, he just hopes he is for her. Her brown eyes crinkle as she tips her head up to meet his gaze.
“Thank you.”
“You are quite welcome M’lady.” He squeezes her hand, “Though we should probably order some food. I don’t know about you but I am an absolute light weight if I drink on an empty stomach.”
Roni chuckles, because he is blushing again as he fumbles for his keys, and it’s all very cute. It’s not a date. Ordering take out and drinking themselves stupid, but it oddly kind of feels like the pretenses to one, situation with her bar and Belfrey aside. It might be kinda nice. To go on an actual date with him.
He opens her door like some ridiculously adorable gentleman, gives her a wink that skips low in her belly as he walks around the hood of his truck. He’s handsome. Very handsome as he slides into his own seat, tucks on a pair of dark sunglasses and grins at her, “Pizza?”
“Only if it has pineapple on it.”
His hands drop from the wheel as he stares admonished at her, “You’re one of those?” Roni’s brow arches as she licks her lips, “Yeah, you gotta problem with that?” Her smile takes out all the harsh inflection in the playful tease back. Rowan shakes his head with a laugh, reaches for her hand to press a hard kiss to her palm, “I thought I was the only one.”
Oh that bastard. She rolls her eyes as he chuckles, starts the truck and rolls out onto the road. She watches from the corner of his eye, trying to not get caught blatantly staring at the way his thumb runs over her knuckles, as they turn down towards his shop, and he keeps looking at her like she has something on her face, or stuck in her hair. Roni hums curiously as he takes a breath and tips his head over to find her eyes as they slow to a red light. “You are an enigma to me.” He finally confesses to her cocked brow, “It’s just, I have never met a woman, who for all intensive purposes is the town’s beacon of resilience, who likes whiskey, pineapple on her pizza, far too beautiful to be real, and could probably kick the crap out of anyone with her bat.”
Heat rushes into her cheeks as she stares at him, mouth slightly agape as he bites down on his lip, grinning like an idiot, “You’re quite something Roni.”
“I’m basically the female version of you, just a little more refined.” She quips back, toying with his thumb on the gearshift as they continue down the street.
“Ah, yes that’s right. I almost forgot you are royalty, Your Majesty.”
“You should be a little afraid then, no?”
Rowan slows to a stop outside his shop, “And why’s that?”, he questions, unclicking his belt and walking around the truck once more to help Roni out though she doesn’t exactly need it. “I think you are forgetting the Evil addition to my name.” His brows bounce as his hips square her flat against the door of the truck, his hands trailing slow lines up and down her ribs till they settle around her waist. He chews appreciatively for a moment, scanning her face remarkably intrigued with what he sees. “I think they have it all wrong.”
She breathes, slow and drawled out, letting her hands wander up his chest, “How so?” It takes everything in her not to groan at the way he leans into her hand on his face, how his eyes close momentarily as she scratches through his stubble appreciatively, nor does she try and think to hard about how the hot breath he exhales from his nose has her feeling a touch light headed. He squeezes her hips, lifts his eyes to meet hers, hoping he is hiding the lust that builds in his chest for her. “It doesn’t fit, bold and audacious perhaps, but not Evil.” He edges a touch closer and Roni feels her heart bash about thunderously as a fuzzed memory wisps into her mind. He’s said those words before. Well not him, but someone has. Licking her lips, she inhales sharply as Rowan’s hand comes up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking just below her mouth.
“Says the forest dwelling hero.”
He chuckles, “Ah, that’s right. Chivalrous and a gentleman to the core, how could I forget.” He removes himself from her, leaving Roni to stare rather dumbly at his sudden departure when they were so close once more to actually getting to taste one another. “Forgive me, my Queen, your abundance of requested alcohol and pineapple filled pizza await you.” He bows, a rather dramatic thing, before reaching for her hand once more and tugging her inside though she scowls slightly, still reeling from the fact he so quickly departed from her. If he is planning to be a gentleman, then perhaps Roni needs to play too, bring out her devilish teasing side.
Tit for tat right?
_____
She isn’t sure why she’s never been in his shop before. It’s incredible. He is incredible. There are pieces of furniture she doesn’t even understand how they are carved from just wood. They spiral and twist like honest to god branches. Thick and sturdy but delicate in a way she can’t exactly describe as her fingers trail along soft oaks, and white pine strips. It’s enrapturing in truth.
Rowan for his part hasn’t said much aside from simply walking half behind her, half moseying around to find the bottles of whiskey he promised her. He lets her peruse about, eyeing little trinkets and desktop ornaments, thumbing over wine racks, a couple shelves with pipe accents, up until she roams right up to a piece he’s just finished. It’s the table he’s been working on for what feels like an eternity. A solid hunk of oak he’d cut, shaved, and warped into a single desk, with all the undersides exposed.
He damn near trips over a chair as she bends over to scour the finite details of the tiny sculpted pine tree’s below the table tops surface, leaving his eyes to do nothing but appreciate the slight view of a black lace trimmed thong peeking just barely out of the back of dark denim jeans. It makes things stir lower south, and she has had a bad day. A really really bad day. So the image of her in that tiny piece of string all pressed up against him is most definitely the last thing he should be thinking about. Though perhaps getting drunk isn’t going to help those thoughts fade.
“It’s incredible.”
Rowan groans, because she is right, her ass is in fact bloody incredible. A perfectly sculpted round, thick - “Hey? You okay?” He blinks back to reality, finding Roni cocking a high brow at him amused. Blush runs through him, caught red handed ogling her to the enth degree. Running a hand through his hair he chuckles with a shrugged can you blame me look as she saunters far too slowly over to him, grinning the entire time. His heart is racing by the time she is pressed against him, barely but it’s enough he can smell the light amber perfume of her hair, enough that he feels the warmth of her breath against his lips.
“How about that whiskey?” Roni smiles, biting down on her lip though her eyes stay trained on Rowan’s. He nods, grins, shakes his head playfully at her as he presents said alcohol, and allows himself a rather adventurous roam of her back with his hand. And if he dips down a little lower, well Roni does nothing but hum and steal the bottle from his hand.
They take up refuge on the floor, after Rowan’s produces a blanket and a couple pillows from the back, saddled up side by side, pizza half eaten behind them, and half a bottle already gone. She’s inched closer after the second round, turned enough that their knees bump and fingers cross and trail over one another more often than not. They have an entire half drunk plan in motion to take down Belfrey, most of which revolves around Rowan making Roni a new bat she can take with her for a “visit”. Roni had chuckled and dipped her head to rest on his chest, vibrating with laughter as Rowan described the type of wood he’d used to ensure the bat wouldn’t break.
He didn’t even say anything when she sipped from his glass instead of her own, imprinting dark red lipstick on the rim with a pop. It’s going to be framed, this glass, and he is rather envious of it. Of a cup that has her lips pressed against it. To say he wants to kiss her would be an understatement, he’s dying to taste her. All of her. Every last drop. But everytime he thinks she might close the distance, her eyes glaze over and she sniffs, slumping back down into the pillows with a angry huff over the fact her bar is now a half pile of cinders.
“It was everything I had you know.” She sighs, pouring another round for both of them. “My entire life was there, it’s just gone.” His arm wraps around her shoulders, presses a kiss to her temple with a long low breath. He’s not exactly sure how to make it right, how to make her smile instead of the tears that suddenly build in her eyes. He just wants her to stop hurting. So when the words “You can always stay with me.” slip out before he can catch them, his heart stills when she freezes beneath him. He feels her swallow, lifting up out of his embrace to look him square in the eyes with utter disbelief.
He shouldn’t have said anything. They have only just started...seeing each other, or getting to know each other. Asking her to move in with him, however temporary it may be is far too out there. He breathes a quick apology, averts her gaze to focus on their linked fingers instead as she simply stares at him, at the rather blunt statement of offer he just made. She could stay with him...a man she’s not known for more than two weeks, he is asking her, or inviting her to live with him because...well her life just burnt to the ground and realistically she has no where to stay, but they don’t know each other - which she still isn’t entirely convinced about, he is too familiar to be a stranger - still though, she can’t just move in with him...can she?
No. No she can’t. It’s ridiculous. But the way his dimple deepen through his shy smile has her stomach flipping over itself to the point where she isn’t sure if she wants to just kiss him or start laughing at how adorable this man is. The former she thinks. Definitely kissing him is the better of the two options. He is handsome, and charming, rather comically gentleman like most of the time, she can tell he has a good heart, one of the rare pure souls in this world. And she is so wrapped up in him she doesn’t really realize it when she teases him about being a “regular Robin Hood.”
The comment rather than sending her into a ocean of embarrassment has Rowan’s eyes dancing as he smiles, rolling his whiskey in his glass thoughtfully for a moment before replying back “And to think I’m stuck with the Evil Queen herself.”
Roni scoffs, swats him on the chest and leans away though Rowan is quick to follow her and the half assed scowl she gives him. “Quite a fairytale we are.” She heats, flushes and rolls her eyes at the idea, “You really believe Lucy?”
“Why not?” He muses, trailing his fingers along her bicep, “It’s rather romantic no? The Evil Queen brought to her knees by an Outlaw.”
“I’d never kneel for a peasant.” She bites back through a smile of her own, “If anything you took the knee in front of the Queen.” - Rowan chuckles, squeezes her thigh and tries to not watch the way Roni licks her lower lip, nor the way her chest rising and falls ever so pronouncedly with every inhale as her voice draws out far too huskily for his self control over not jumping her here and now, “Perhaps I bewitched you into falling in love.”
“Impossible.”
“Say’s who?”
“The law of magic.”
She pauses, eyes him oddly, “Because you are about to tell me you’re a secret Harry Potter nerd or something?”. He huffs lightly, sips his whiskey, and cocks his brow her way, “The Genie says so.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, the Genie from Aladdin, you can’t make someone fall in love with you magically.” He crinkles his brow as though she is the fish out of water here. “I didn’t know you were a Disney buff.”
“I am not.” He concedes, “But my son is.”
She stills. He has a son. A young one by the sounds of it. She tries to hide the shock with a vague oh, if you say so, but she knows Rowan caught her momentarily stunned reaction as he shrugs, takes her hand within his own and sighs heavily. “I haven’t seen my son in quite some time.” He swallows thickly, stroking her thumb as she waits for him to continue in however way he wants, “When my wife left, she sued for sole custody of Ryan. I am allowed to see him once a month for 48 hours. Which means I fly out to the east coast just to try and ensure he doesn’t forget who I am, or how much I love him.”
Roni’s heart burns for him, it can’t be easy being away from your child. She wanted to be a mother. Tried adopting one time but it fell through and that feeling has never exactly released it’s grip on her. Being a mother, it’s something she’s always wanted though the timing just never happened. Rowan tries to smile, though his eyes emote nothing but sadness as he gulps down the last of the whiskey.
She doesn’t want him focusing on that pain, not right now, so Roni takes a rather bold leap of faith, takes Rowan’s glass from his hand, slides it across the floor, hoping it hasn’t spilt, and straddles his waist before he can really make a sound other than a rather surprised inhale to the invasion. His hands find her waist, a slight groan escaping him as she rolls her hips ever so slightly. Seem’s talking about burnt restaurants and distant relationships hasn’t exactly quashed his hunger for her.
“I’m sorry about your son.” She kisses his forehead, “I am sorry you are so far away from him.” Another kiss to his temple. “And I am sorry that we are all out of whiskey and either of us got as drunk as we intended.” The last goes to his jaw, where his dimple is. He grips her thighs, roams a hand around her back and into her curls as his lips go to her throat, laving up and down soft and slow. The sound that crawls from her is uncharacteristic, far to breathy, too needy and wanting to have honestly come from Roni herself. Rowan however seems to take it as an invitation to explore more of her.
She rolls, grinds down into his lap till the seam of her pants is hitting the spot that aches between her thighs, and then she grinds harder, scratches through his hair and holds his head to her chest as his lips makes its way across her cleavage, dipping down momentarily to lick a long line between her breasts. It’s not enough though. Her shirt is in the way, blocking him from access to where she wants him.
It feels good, really, really good. And the fleeting thought crosses her mind as he palms a handful of her breast, that maybe they don’t need anymore alcohol to liberate them, to let their inhibitions fly out the window so they can actually make their way into new undefined territory of each other’s bodies. She wants too.
But it’s only been two weeks. They should wait. But he thumbs across her nipple, tugging and twisting at it, a free hand sliding her tank top up enough to reveal the black lace bra beneath. It’s off before she can ask him to do so, his mouth back on her skin, hot and wet, and it feels so fucking good. Better when she rolls and grinds on his lap. He hard, or getting there, she can feel it. The sounds he makes has her burning hotter, and she’d be embarrassed with the squeaked out ah! she lets go when his mouth latches onto her breast, but he holds her tight to his mouth, nipping and soaking the lace with his tongue and all thought of asking him to slow things down flies out the window.
“Christ, Roni.” His breath hot against her skin, “You have - “ he mouths her other nipple, sucking hard as Roni pitches forward with a gasp, “bloody - “ he nips “-- incredible --” pulls her between his lips, ”-- breasts.” She smiles, though he can’t see it, runs her nails down his spine, relishing in the shiver he gives. His hands move to her ass, guiding along his growing erection, pushing her harder into him. He wants her. Badly. But he wants to treat her right, woo her like a proper gentleman, have her writhing and naked when they aren’t have tossed on whiskey. He wants to date her. Properly. Make her breakfast in bed, take her out for a walk beneath the moonlight, do all the sappy sentimental things a man does for a woman he’s falling for. But she feels so good. So damn good. With soft creamy olive skin all pressed up against him.
“Oh shit!”
A man voice echoes through the shop and Roni collapses around Rowan’s shoulders as he rights himself enough to find his flatmate Wyatt stumbles at the front door, a hand covering his eyes as he spins on the spot. “Sorry mate, didn’t know you had plans.”
On top of him, Roni blows out a laugh, and turns, enough to see the intruder but not quite enough to have her on full display for the man. He’s bumbling around for the door knob, swinging it open with a wave of his hand and damn near runs outside. Beneath her Rowan huffs, leans his forehead into her chest. “And that was?”
“My roommate, or the guy who is currently crashing on my sofa, and our night.” He groans and tips his chin up to meet her smile. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She kissing his frown, “Drunk induced sex probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyway.” Rowan chuckles, pecks a mole on her breast and sighs as he sits back, taking a moment to graze on her toned stomach, “You’re probably right.”
“I should go.”
“Where are you going to go?”
She hadn’t thought about that, what with his erection still squarely situated between her thighs. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Stay.”
“Rowan.”
“No, not like that. I have a spare bed, and will promise to be nothing but a gentleman.” He grins, and Roni can’t really help the smile that follows. She doesn’t have a place to stay, and paying for a hotel isn’t exactly the most promising situation to find at one o’clock in the morning.
“Can I borrow a shirt? I can’t exactly sleep in this.”
“You could sleep naked.”
She laughs, shakes her head and rolls off of him. “I don’t think your chivalrous streak would hold knowing that.” Rowan follows, buries his head into her chest with a groaned, “You’re probably right. Come on, my place is a five minute walk from here.”
Roni downs the rest of her whiskey, tosses on her shirt, knowing the entire time Rowan’s eyes are burning into her skin. It feels nice. To be wanted like this. Perhaps she will take him up on his offer and stay for more than a night.
Rowan takes her hand with a cocked grin, “Shall we Your Majesty?”
Y’all, Lana’s acting during that kiss was phenomenal.
At first she’s almost smiling, like she had been waiting for this moment from the second she saw Robin alive again. And then her face falls, and her brow pinches, almost like she’s confused, like she doesn’t understand why it’s not right. And what got me the most was how she pushes into him, like she’s trying to force the kiss to feel right, like if she tries a little harder it will work. And then you can see the moment she stops kissing him back, the moment she gives up and lets him finish kissing her. She just opens her eyes, watches him as he pulls away from her, and her hope sinks away.
2087
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
