#ettaa

[anders00warlike]

#LagoDoCaburi #férias #ettaa #etaa + Sou como você me vê. Posso ser leve como uma brisa ou forte como uma ventania, depende de quando e como você me vê passar. - Clarice Lispector + (em Lago do Cabori)

[regalxlegality]

Trapped In The Closet (sings the 80 hour long song) || Closed

sheriffsaviour

When Emma found herself stuck, nay shoved by persons she would track down and have very stern words with later, into the closet with Regina, her first reaction was regret; regret that she hadn’t had more to drink. She and Regina were caught in another cycle of the endless loop that seemed to be their default state of being — Emma having done or said something to upset Regina and Regina, well, being Regina about it.

In the hope of ending this particular loop sooner than later — or at least not making it worse — Emma had kept away from the hard stuff as much as possible in order to keep as clear a head as possible should she find herself face to face with Regina. 

Like now     in the closet     again. 

That seemed to be another part of their cycle. It probably meant something magical was going on. She would have put even money on it being a curse. 

Either way, Emma steeled herself for another of Regina’s laundry lists of her personal defects and started working out her apology so she’d have it ready once the brunette was done talking. Which may be why Regina’s confession didn’t fully sink in until the both of them had sunk into the pile of coats and why it took several seconds after that before Emma realized her hands were holding Regina by the waist.

Mostly holding

Maybe a little pulling

Mostly pulling

Emma yanked her head back to the sound of a thud dulled by the cushion of jackets between her and the wall followed by a gasped, ” ‘Gina?”, the ‘Re’ lost somewhere between their lips as the kiss broke. 

"Whuh- I- You- We kissed?"

Regina's breath is caught and her lungs feel like they're on fire, hips pressed tightly against Emma's even when the blonde's lips pull away. Lips that taste like cinnamon and alcohol, though Regina's not entirely sure if the burn is from her own tongue. Their lips are both bruised and there's no need for a dim closet light to know her eyes are dark, lingering on Emma's mouth, breath pushing her chest up in a quick rhythm. 

Emma's question is outrageous because that was no simple kiss. Regina doesn't think a kiss could sear life into her veins even through the slightly heavy feeling of her head. Make her not pull away even though a very sobering fear of understanding of what she's just done--idiotically admitted--is settling on her shoulders.

"Obviously." Regina eventually murmurs, eyes flicking up from Emma's lips to take in her eyes. She can't particularly see her, but she can feel her and the ex-mayor lets out a small breath, swallowing down her heart, still close. "If you don't do something idiotic, then we're very, very close to doing it, again."