Anon: In your head!canon, how romantic is Regina and how much romance does she enjoy in return?
reposting from heartsways since I couldn't reblog for some reason --
Emma had fallen asleep as soon as she’d climbed into bed after a long day and an even longer evening of paperwork. She’d come home with a red rose by means of apology and shuffled into the house holding it out in front of her as though it could ward off what she was certain would be Regina’s wrath.
The Mayor had taken the flower from her without a single word and informed her that there was dinner for her, if she was hungry.
It wasn’t late when she opened her eyes, and the bedside light was still on, casting a yellow glow around the room. Blinking, Emma rubbed at her face, struggling up onto her elbows and frowning across the room.
Regina was folding her clothes into neat squares: jeans, tank top, the sweater she’d worn over it. One by one, they were placed into an empty drawer that Regina stood over. Pushing the drawer shut, the Mayor turned and jumped a little when she saw Emma watching her with a suspicious gaze.
“What are you doing?” Emma said curiously.
“Tidying up after you, for a change,” Regina remarked with a rueful expression. “You’re so messy, dear.”
“You put my clothes in a drawer,” Emma said.
“I did,” Regina said, looking away somewhat hesitantly.
“I’m…not sure I understand.” Emma did understand. She understood only too well. But she wanted Regina to tell her. It was how they worked, after all, one backing the other into a corner until a confession was the only likely means of escape.
Regina let out a frustrated sigh and glared at Emma from beneath her lashes. Then she walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, near Emma’s legs.
“I thought…” she said, then stopped, clamping her lips together in a firm line of displeasure. Another sigh. Another glare. Emma resisted the urge to laugh. It would be too cruel, she thought, especially as Regina was on the cusp of actually sharing something.
“I made a space for you,” Regina finally said, looking at Emma. In the muted light of the room, her cheeks seemed to glow for a moment, her eyes softening to a more fearful hue.
“I see,” Emma said, the corners of her mouth turning upwards.
“I mean,” Regina shifted a little closer and put her hand onto Emma’s leg. “I’ve made a space for you. Here.”
She stared down at the bedclothes until Emma’s hand crept over her own and fingers entwined with hers.
“Thanks,” Emma said softly, as Regina’s eyes met hers.
Taking a short breath, Regina shrugged dismissively. “Of course, if you wish to continue leaving your clothes on the floor as usual, then please feel free to - “
“Regina,” Emma cut in, pulling the other woman towards her and planting a firm kiss on Regina’s lips. “Shut up,” she murmured with a faint chuckle.
Regina let out a laugh that was almost self-conscious and demurred slightly, hopping up onto the bed and settling down against the warm body of the Sheriff. Emma looked over at the chest of drawers and something caught her eye.
“The rose,” she said in a surprised tone. “You kept it.”
The item in question had been placed in a silver vase, standing tall, a singular reminder of Emma’s awkward apology.
“Of course I did,” Regina’s tone was stern and Emma couldn’t help smiling again. Perhaps romance wasn’t dead after all. In fact, she thought as Regina’s arm slid around her waist, it felt like it was putting up a pretty good fight.