Snow
Snow has signed in
2.38 AM SNOW- Hey guys, anyone there?
2.38 AM RED – Here. What’s up sweetie?
2.39 AM SNOW – The witch has been awful today. And he wants to go out. Out, out.
2.39 AM RED – Ah. Lovely.
2.40 AM RED – Shit Snow, why don’t you just chuck him? You don’t love him and it’s not fair on you!
2.40 AM SNOW – Oh like it’s easy? Just like you could walk out the front door without the wolf biting at your heels?!
Red has signed off
2.40 SNOW – Red I’m sorry. Please forgive me, I know it’s not that easy.
2.45 SNOW – Red? Please! I’m sorry!
2.55 SNOW – Red? Please I need to talk to you, you’re the only one who I can talk to!
Mary Margaret pushed herself back from her desk and swallowed down a sob. Why did she always put her foot into her great big mouth? Red was possibly the only person in the world who she trusted out of the handful she even talked to anymore and even she didn’t want to talk to her with her shitty attitude. It had been hours and Red had not once come back online.
She glanced at the covered mirror, felt the now instinctive disgust and looked away. Not that anyone would want to talk to her if they knew what kind of person they were talking to. She floated to her chest of drawers, picked up the most worn frame and collapsed into her arm chair. Tears stung her eyes as they always did looking at the only photographs she had left.
Frozen within a tarnished silver frame were two pictures. On the right stood a happy couple in bright sunshine. A strapping dark haired man nuzzling his face into a petite raven haired beauty’s shoulder their joined hands displaying shiny, new wedding rings. Her parents the day they had eloped and the only wedding photo they had taken. Her mother didn’t want her family involved and his family didn’t approve of her being a ‘commoner’. She stroked down each of their faces desperately wanting the people she loved most in the world to come back to her. A well-worn and still painful hollow in her chest ached.
On the left was another couple, another raven haired beauty and a handsome blonde man both still a little chubby cheeked in early adolescence. They stood with their arms around each other; a little bashful and awkward but eyes locked on each other. A tear plopped onto the glass over his face. She swiped it away with her thumb, wishing he could be there beside her. She remembered the day the photo was taken; it had been in the same park that her parent’s had taken their wedding photo in.
She remembered being fifteen and awkward, desperately wanting to be noticed and terrified that she would be. A school trip that had ended too soon had left their entire class with nothing to do until pick up so on mass had descended on the local park to bask in the late summer sun. Feelings had begun to bubble and blossom inside her but had shied away from them, with the typical teenaged method of ignore and hope it gets solved on its own, and David had been just as hesitant. It had been his brother that forced them to talk, a few hours had passed and they had covered everything and were still talking.
She’d been the happiest she’d ever been that day. Somehow she’d been able to forget that her mother was dead and her father was marrying another woman. At just fifteen years old she knew that the boy in front of her was the one she wanted to grow old with, have babies with and a mortgage and even a dog or two. They’d been inseparable after that first day until his accident. Two years of being young and in love, family holidays with him and his mother and brother, valentines as romantic as two teenagers could make it and almost magical Christmases. They’d even begun talking about living together after university and settling down properly.
It was the night he left and never came back that they’d had their first and last fight. She’d been staying with him and his family over Christmas trying to avoid ever going back to her family home. Her step-mother had been redecorating and her father had been letting her remove anything she found to be lacking. Almost all of which was picked by her mother; furniture, curtains all the trinkets which made their house a home systematically removed. Regina had begun gutting their cottage and turned it into a sterile guesthouse. Soon after they’d moved somewhere more ‘suitable’ meaning a three story building located in the centre of London.
She believed that they’d never argue but that Christmas he had been secretive and left often for hours without telling her anything. It had driven their teenage emotions to breaking point and Christmas eve they’d argued fit to bring the house down. He had yelled at her that if they weren’t going to be civil then he’d drive her home. She had yelled back that she’d rather be home than there. So still fuming with each other he’d driven her home; a mile away from her house they were blindsided by a drunk driver and he had died on impact. She’d later found out through her step-mother that his family wanted nothing to do with her believing her to be the reason he had been killed. She hadn’t been allowed to go to the funeral.
More and more tears followed the first landing squarely on the teenaged faces looking up at her. A loud sob escaped from her mouth and it was the beginning of the end, great hiccupping sobs broke out of her and she couldn’t stem the tide. She let herself be dragged under their great dark weight.
Sometime later after the tears had stopped flowing and she felt ready to wipe their remains from her cheeks a rapid knock on her bedroom door startled her.
“Yes?” She whispered
“Darlin’ are you ready for our date? I know I’ve been busy but I wanna spend time with you before your mother drags me off for another business trip.” Came the confident drawl of her husband.
The door opened and she saw his face peer round the edge, his smile dimming after he caught sight of her.
“Oh, so it’s one of those days then, love. Why do you keep those blasted photos if they make you cry so?” Killian sighed as he sat beside her, plucking the frame from her lap.
Mary Margaret couldn’t summon the words to answer that question. She never could. All she wanted in that moment was to curl up in bed with the curtains closed and not move for a week. It was all she ever wanted to do. Killian tapped carelessly on the glass, sparking fear in her chest that he’d break it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been careless with her things.
“Please, Killian, just put it back?” She forced out, the words feeling like lead on her tongue.
She was so grateful that he wanted to be with her, despite the fact that she was an awful human being. He was a little rough around the edges but he loved her. She couldn’t figure out why.
“Oh shush darlin’, you worry too much about things that are in the past. Why? It’s the past, can’t change it so you might as well live for the now.” He drawled. With the last word he ambled to his feet and dropped the frame onto the chest of drawers, spun back and hauled her up from her seat.
She moved automatically, used to his very physical method of getting his way. She knew he just wanted the best for her and needed to pull her in the right direction. He led her by the hand to her wardrobe; flung open the antique doors and pulled out a dress. It was summarily draped over her free arm and then a pair of shoes were balanced on top. He hummed pleased and then faced her square on; folding his arms tightly over his chest.
“Get dressed love, I didn’t come home just to you to find a face like a wet sponge okay? Get dressed and I’ll be seeing you downstairs in ten so we can actually leave the house today yeah?” As he spoke he looked over her shoulder almost thoughtlessly and left the door open wide behind him; bathing her in the afternoon light. The warmth on her face reminded her that she was supposed to be his wife. She was the one who should be out in arranging little days for just the two of them. She knew that he was being too good to her; most men wouldn’t put up with such a demanding, awful wife. But he did and she loved him for it, promised herself that she did.
Clouds covered the hallway window blotting out the sun and she hugged her arms a little closer. One of the shoes tumbled to the ground with a startling clatter; she pulled her arms closer simply wanting to go back to bed. Her eyes felt heavy already and she looked longingly over her shoulder to the expansive four poster nest she’d made for herself. She was going to have to disappoint him again, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face it. The other shoe hit the ground and both were covered by the slip of a dress. And once more her room was shrouded in darkness as she inched the door closed.