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How many wake up calls a single person can have? I think I really don't want to be happy or I am just beyond stupid. Life isn't that hard to be fair. You just have to try a lot and make arrangements and put effort into everything. I think it doesn't sound difficult but it sort of ends up does? Maybe I am just lazy. I can't give straight answers to anything. If someone would ask me what colour is grass or sky I wouldn't know what to say. It almost seems like everything I know is not real. The most simple tasks make me nervous. Looking at people makes me nervous. I don't think that I overthink. I think that I don't think enough. I was trying to make many points but in the end I didn't even make one.

#6 word story fail #500 characters #maybe not today #it is 3:15 am

Outlaw Queen in 26 x 500 characters

[Barricade] The toy chest rattles and shifts. The door gives in. Roland squeals, his face hidden in Regina’s neck. The monster huffs and puffs as it pushes the door ajar and slips through. Another, smaller one, barges in with a mighty roar, rushes towards the bed-fort - and crashes into a pile of toys. The makeshift barricade rains plushies onto a baffled Henry and Roland shrieks with delight. The two monsters are onto them now, growling and tickling and shaking lions’ manes, filling the room with laughter. [Capsize] She eyes the tiny boat with suspicion at first but is all glowing eyes and soft smiles once they’re on the lake. He says something complimentary yet naughty, and she leans over to smack him on the shoulder and perhaps make good with a kiss. The boat sways dangerously, tips, capsizes. Robin grabs her by the waist, holds her steady, but Regina panics, waves her arms and then they’re both floating in the lake. “You ass-” she sputters. A heated kiss shuts her up even as Robin grins against her lips.

[Daunting] The Queen’s voice booms in the hall filled to the brim with her rage. Her lips are set and curled into a malicious sneer as they continue to spew spiteful words at the room at large. Bolts of lightning threaten to fly from her eyes, her glare burning holes into whatever it rests upon. A truly daunting image, as the near emptied hall shows. Only Robin remains now, bears the storm as she rains choice insults at him. He’s there when she slumps on a bench, her suddenly petite frame wracked by sobs.

[Echo] I love you, he says, whispers it into her hair like he hasn’t planned on saying it but cannot hold back. The words hit her with a force belying the softness they’re spoken with, a force that makes her stagger in his arms and robs her of a few breaths. His words echo in her heart, making it swell, caressing the scars etched deep into it and painting its dark-streaked walls with light. I love you, he tells her again, loud and clear, and the echo of old fears and pains retreats at last, fades away.

[Flutter] A tiny flutter, that’s all there is, like butterfly’s wings inside her belly. Robin cannot feel it, not by any means, even Regina can barely make it out, but still his hands rest on her stomach and every time the tickle makes her smile, he matches it with a dimpled one of his own. His mouth wanders down her neck and his palms over her belly - and there it is again, slight but clear, right under his skimming fingers. He cannot feel it yet, but soon he will, and the very idea makes her heart soar.

[Glory] Robin sees the Queen in all her glory every day, and every day he finds her quite stunning: her hair perfectly coiffed, her makeup bold and striking, her skin without blemish, her gowns - velvet and satin laced with golden thread and sparkling jewels - lavish and a haughty, regal air. She owns the room. But it is the time he finds her in Roland’s room, a book in hand, in a simple night robe with her curls tumbling freely, that he thinks - knows - that Regina truly is the fairest in all the land.

[Hesitate] Perhaps today, when he approaches her - because he always does, for some reason, never gives up - Regina’ll respond with something other than a sneer. Perhaps they could be something other than bickering teenagers for a change. Perhaps she could respond to his friendly greeting in kind for once. He is open and his tone is easy and something inside of her tells her that to trust him is safe. Maybe that’s what scares her so much. Give it a chance or not? In the end, she doesn’t. Maybe another day.

[Illuminate] The moment the Queen hears him, she claps the tome shut and fumbles desperately. Too late - he’s seen the ink blotches on her hands, the broken quill tip and the spare she’s just about to dip into the inkpot. May I, he asks, and she is stunned enough to nod. He flips the book open and stares in awe at drawings of horses so splendid he expects them to jump out of the pages, traces the carefully penned inscriptions, marvels at letters embellished in brilliant inks. On Horsemanship, says the cover.

[Juxtapose] In the morning she spirals into a furious rage which, once quenched, turns into icy stares and settles at the usual snide remarks - standard interaction for the Queen and the outlaw, really. When he sees her in the afternoon, in the gardens with his son on her lap, she looks nothing like that woman. She’s reading to the boy, voice soft and balmy, she lets him play with loosened strands of her hair, twisting and twirling and tucking it behind her ear. She is not the Queen anymore - she is Regina.

[Kaleidoscope] The longer she looked, the heavier the kaleidoscope grew in her fingers. Yet Regina remained entranced by the beautiful forms produced by the play of light on the intricate array of mirrors and beads hidden under the surface. There was something comforting about the everlasting changing of shapes and colours, the shifting of edges, dissolving and reforming again. Why'd the thief even give her a gift at all - and why this? She sought his eyes across the room. You have a lot in common, he mouthed.

[Livid] The Snow Queen had left nothing but wreckage in her wake, piles of rubble covered in snow and frost. Robin’s muscles ached but he didn’t relent. Her quiet groans spurred him on, each one sending a jolt of shock through him. So did the sight of her: livid bruises covered just about every inch of her body. Regina cried out when he pulled her from the rubble and gathered her in his arms. He placed a kiss onto the dark bruise at her brow, and she grew quiet as her arms wound tighter around his neck.

[Mesmerise] Mesmerised. That’s what Robin thinks he might be, and perhaps when he snaps out of it he’ll think about what it could possibly mean, but right now, he does not. He just watches, listens to her words, quiet and dejected as she tries to stay aloof but at the same time lets him see beyond defences so ancient and so massive. He doesn’t realise he’s crumpling the wretched letter as his fingers flex. That deceitful letter that, in fact, speaks the truth. Because Regina truly is stunning. In every way.

[Nostalgic] I’m always thinking of Henry, she tell Snow once, and it’s true. Lazy mornings filled with cartoons, lunches snatched in his and her break whenever she could clear out a slot in her schedule, movie nights with pizza and snuggles. She doesn’t have Henry, but at least she has this, and despite the heartache she would not trade the memories for anything. When she’s too overcome with emotion, the thief appears out of nowhere and takes his son away, gives her the room she needs to relish and recover.

[Obnoxious] He irritated her. The blasted thief was a nuisance if ever there had been one, and the more she snapped at him the less he seemed to mind, the cockier his quips became. Every inch of him, that woodsy smell and his broad shoulders, the sparkling blue eyes and the stubble, even that voice of his and that ridiculous accent - everything about him was obnoxious. His insolent smirk made her blood boil and her fist clench. When he flashed one her way, her stomach flipped, her breath hitched. Obnoxious.

[Permission] Isn't it customary in Robin's land for a gentleman to ask permission to court a lady? Henry's sombre inquiry catches them by surprise. Robin tries hard not to smile, is in fact moved by the boy's protectiveness of Regina. She’s her own person, of course, but the way her eyes swim and her cheeks blush as she admonishes with a not at all harsh Henry! tugs at his heart. So Robin asks, quite formally, suddenly a tad anxious - this is important. Henry responds with a firm handshake, and Regina beams.

[Quiver] It's not a grave injury, thank heavens, but she needs care and rest to heal - none of which she's in the least willing to accept. She's adamant that she's needed, insists that she be there when they take on the Snow Queen. It almost costs her her life. Robin can't hold back anymore, can't not fuss over her. She swats his hand away, hisses I don't want you near me and adds Ever again for emphasis. It's the quiver in her voice that gives her away. Robin backs off. But he's not leaving. Ever again.

[Radiant & Realisation] They are standing under the bridge, where the summer rain doesn't reach them with quite such intensity. They're soaking wet and trying to keep warm as best they can till the rain stops: Henry and Roland playing hopscotch in the puddles, Robin and Regina pressed against each other. She shivers in his embrace but doesn't complain. Her lips are bluish and her hair clings to her face in dripping strands. She's absolutely radiant, and he realises, for the millionth time, just how madly in love he is.

[Shimmer] Regina was sitting at her vanity with her face in her hands, dead tired but sleepless nonetheless. And hurting, aching for the son lost to her forever. Love lost to her forever. The candle went out, the shimmer gone, leaving nothing but dusk behind. / Dizzy with sleep already, the heat-rippled air by the fireplace made her dizzier still. Dizzy with happiness. Regina wiggled closer, Robin's arms wound tighter around her. At last, she drifted off. The fire crackled in the grate, bright and steady.

[Tempest] The Queen's temper is every bit as mercurial as rumoured. Even now, as Regina, her tempestuous streak's to be reckoned with. In a fit of rage, she sends objects - plates, vases, books - flying across the room, makes sheets smolder and even sets curtains on fire once. And her glare could kill. But sooner or later, just as abruptly as it came, the storm blows over. Apologies, when in order, still come hard to her, whispered into Robin's shoulder, but they do come. They pick up the pieces together.

[Unnatural] Regina's trying to hide her pain - that's what gives her away. Her hair too perfectly coiffed. The powder too white, the eyes and lips too dark, clothes too dramatic. Her posture too stiff and her stride too sharp. Too much of everything for it to be real. He's seen it in the Enchanted Forest, knows the signs, knows she's hurting. It's not quite as bad this time, with her son back in her life, yet in a sense worse. Because she's been betrayed, abandoned, let down right on the brink of happiness.

[Vow] An eternal middle. Something collapses in him at her confession. Robin tries to make her see past the utter desperation, beyond the bottomless misery. He fails, and she leaves, and he stands there still under her spell. He expects her to never return, but she does. Awake. No smile, but a sneer at least, and a quest of questionable motive - but a purpose nonetheless. That is when he vows to keep an eye on the Queen, to make sure she comes to no harm, even despite herself. Especially from herself.

[Weep] Regina walks away from the diner with her head held high and yes, she makes it to her office with the tears still caught behind her lashes. But once she steps through the door, all strength is drained from her. She crumbles on the spot, slides to the floor with her back against the door. It's cold and hard and lonely here, and her hands come around her knees - she's alone again, this is the only hug she'll get. Her face bowed and hidden, the dam finally breaks, and she weeps and weeps and weeps.

[X chromosome (prompt mine)] As the cool object slid smoothly over her belly, Regina reminded herself what they were soon to find out didn't matter anyway. They already loved the baby madly, whether it was a boy or girl would change nothing. But Robin still clutched her hand as the screen lit up, and her breath still hitched as Whale pointed out the baby's head and torso, its little arms and legs. Their precious baby girl. She's the spitting image of you, Robin swore as if he could know and kept covering her hand in kisses.

[Yearning] It tugs at Robin's belly every time she crosses his mind - and she barely ever leaves his thoughts. Whenever he sees her, it floods him, fills him to the very brim of his being, threatens to swallow everything else. His skin flushes and his insides squirm with longing, his heart strives to push past his ribcage to reunite with hers. But he said goodbye to Regina. Now he can only try and live with that choice. With that ceaseless, unrelenting, all-consuming yearning. Or else let it eat him alive.

[Zenith & Zephyr] Regina Mills does not do sappy things like stargazing. Except now she is. Curled up in her coat and an extra cape of Robin's around her shoulders, she still welcomes the feel of his arms wrapped around her against the cold. The wind is soft and warm, a western breeze, yet their breaths fog and rise to the stars. There is a bright one right above in the treetops. She misses its name as Robin's lips brush against hers. She's stopped counting the kisses: that first, anxious one was but a beginning.