I Like to Drabble

Once Upon a Time (TV)
F/F
G
I Like to Drabble
Summary
I enjoy writing, however, I have no time or motivation to write a fanfiction. These drabbles/one shots are all Swan Queen and shall be posted as, and when, I have time. I cannot guarantee regular updates as I am soon starting university... but enjoy what is there.Feel free to request prompts and I shall try my very best to complete them.
Note
Feel free to request prompts!

Give me back my journal... now

Ever since being a young girl, Emma Swan had experienced difficulty in expressing her emotions. Whether it be sadness or happiness, Emma kept those emotions to herself for nobody else to witness. Of course, Emma did have an outlet, choosing to note everything down in a journal. Every single day, without fail, Emma would lock herself away somewhere within 108 Mifflin Street and poured all of her pent up emotion into the journal which she treasured so dearly.

Saturday 6th August 2016

I love Regina with all of my heart, but she insists I go to see Archie. Apparently I “lack emotion” and most probably have an emotional disorder. She loves me, yes... But does she understand me? She refuses to. She refuses to accept that I will not let her in... How can I when I do not know how? I was so close to throwing this journal into her face, along with the rest, to show her that I do have emotions and feelings and that I get so freaking upset when she comments on my “lack of emotion”...

Emma checked the time, leaving the journal on display on her bedside table in the rush to get to the station on time. She could not handle any more complaints from Regina about her tardiness.

*Later that day*

Whistling as she entered 108 Mifflin Street, Emma dragged her boots off from her feet, throwing them to the ground in an untidy mess. As she entered the kitchen to empty the bag of groceries Regina asked for, she noticed it. There lie open on the island, was her journal, everything she had kept hidden had been uncovered, every tear shed and every vulnerability revealed to the founder of the ever so precious journal. The clacking of heels on wood caught her attention, turning on the spot with a desperation which looked foreign paired with Emma’s usually relaxed posture. Regina entered the room without glancing in Emma’s direction, sauntered past her and picked up the journal and turned to face her desperate wife.
“Emma, why did you not tell me? Why... I cannot understand you? Is that what you really think, Emma? After everything we have been through together, you do not think I know anything about your feelings?” Regina cried. Emma’s jaw tensed as she held her hand out towards Regina.
“Give me back my journal... Now, Regina.”
“No, Emma. Not until you explain this to me!” Regina stood, her knuckles turning white due to the heavy grip she held the journal with.
“Regina, this has nothing to do with you.” Emma’s face void of emotion, her voice steady and even.
“It has everything to do with me... You are my girlfriend and you do not believe that I understand you. How is that nothing to do with me?” If Emma was listening to how Regina spoke, she would have noticed the slight crack in Regina’s word. Emma, however, was completely shut down. She might express all her emotions in a journal, but, on the very odd occasion in which she was unable to do this... She shut down. The emotions searing through her were trapped, with no escape.
“Emma, are you even listening to me?” Regina scoffed, not noticing that Emma was staring into empty space. Regina stomped her way around the island
“Marvellous, you are not even paying attention to me whatsoever... Are you going to write this down in your journal as well, Emma?” Regina roared in Emma’s face. If Regina had turned away, she would miss the lone tear which travelled down Emma’s cheek, racing on a lonely track. Fortunately, Regina had not turned away; she was observing... Observing Emma’s face for any sign of recognition to the words Regina so harshly spat. When the lone tear fell, Regina gasped, dropping the journal to the floor and grasping for Emma’s hands.
“Emma?” And with that, Emma sobbed... She hysterically cried and dropped to the floor, taking Regina with her.

That is how Henry found them, both of his mothers huddled on the floor together; Regina’s arms encircling Emma, who was sitting between her legs, a mess of blonde hair nuzzled into Regina’s neck, who was peacefully resting her head upon Emma’s. Both women lay awake, yet no words were spoken. Henry entered the kitchen, dropped down to the floor next to his mothers and nestled himself into the family hug.