Midnight | Regina Mills

𝔦𝔦𝔦

The chime of the clock striking midnight fills The Enchanted Brew, signaling a moment frozen in time. Gwen Larson, accustomed to this nightly ritual, is prepared for the familiar jingle of the bell above the entrance, announcing Regina Mills' arrival. But what she isn't prepared for is the sight that greets her.

Regina steps into the cafe, a weary figure with shadows under her eyes that speak of sleepless nights and endless exhaustion. The mayor's usually immaculate appearance is disheveled, and her gaze seems distant, lost in the depths of her own thoughts.

In Regina's arms, little Henry sleeps soundly, oblivious to the world around him. The infant's presence provides a stark contrast to Regina's frazzled demeanor, a reminder of the demands and responsibilities of motherhood that she now carries.

"Gwen," Regina murmurs, her voice carrying the weight of weariness as she approaches the counter.

"Regina," Gwen replies, her concern evident in her hazel eyes, "Is everything okay?"

Regina hesitates, as if debating whether to share her burdens. Then, with a sigh, she says, "It's been a long night. Henry hasn't been sleeping, and I..." she trails off, unable to find the words to convey her exhaustion.

Without another word, Gwen steps out from behind the counter, her heart aching for Regina. She holds out her arms, indicating that she's willing to take Henry for a while.

"Here, let me," Gwen offers gently.

Regina's expression shifts from weariness to relief as she carefully transfers Henry into Gwen's capable hands. The moment Henry is cradled in Gwen's arms, he stirs but quickly settles, his tiny fingers curling around her finger.

"Thank you," Regina says, her voice a soft, heartfelt whisper.

Gwen nods, her attention fully on Henry. She can't help but marvel at the innocence and vulnerability of the infant, a stark contrast to the complexities of the curse that binds them all.

With Regina now free to take a seat at one of the cafe's tables, Gwen carries Henry to a nearby booth. She sits down, her gaze fixed on the slumbering child. For a while, the only sound in the cafe is the gentle hum of the espresso machine.

Regina watches Gwen with a mixture of gratitude and weariness, her eyes never leaving her son. She sips her coffee, the warmth of the drink providing a small measure of comfort.

"He's a handful, isn't he?" Gwen finally says, breaking the silence.

Regina offers a tired smile.

"That's one way to put it. Parenthood has its challenges, to say the least."

Gwen's hazel eyes meet Regina's emerald ones, and for a moment, there's a shared understanding between them. It's a connection that goes beyond words, a recognition of the burdens they both carry.

"Let me take care of him for a while," Gwen offers softly, "You look like you could use a break."

Regina hesitates, torn between the need for respite and the reluctance to impose on Gwen's kindness. But the weariness in her eyes wins out, and she nods in gratitude.

"Thank you... I appreciate it."

Gwen smiles, her heart warming at the opportunity to help. She cradles Henry, her fingers brushing against his soft cheek. The infant stirs but remains content in her arms.

As Regina savors her coffee and Gwen provides a safe and nurturing space for Henry, the cafe takes on an air of serenity. It's a respite from the relentless demands of their cursed lives, a moment of connection and understanding in a world filled with isolation.