⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆
--- ( 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙉 𝙅𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙎 )
❝ every little thing
she does is magic ❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- a cold hearted pirate, hellbent on revenge, finds his way to the warmest soul in town
( once upon a tim...
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storybrooke maine .
— IT HAD BEEN A FEW DAYS SINCE WINNIFRED AND CHRISTOPHER HAD LAST SEEN THEIR PIRATE FRIEND. Once he had reassured them both of his own well-being, he'd ushered them away with promises of seeing them again soon, and perhaps giving them a proper tour of his magnificent ship. The two left reluctantly, exchanging fond farewells all the while.
Since then, Winnie had been busying herself with her work at the bakery, returning to some fleeting semblance of normalcy and remaining very much out of the loop of the goings-on of the town.
She'd been briefly introduced to Neal, a man who seemed to be very appreciative of her easy-going nature, especially after his father, Rumplestiltskin, having been on his deathbed. That information came as a great shock, and Winnie had plenty of questions, but it truly seemed as if a hurricane had torn through all the soft and quiet, ruffling up the lives of her dear friends.
They hardly had time to slow down and sit for a while.
She hadn't seen Killian at all, not even as a glimpse among the town. She'd heard of August's transformation through a joyful and rambling Gepetto as he insisted on helping fix the woman's broken door frame. She hadn't spoken more than a few rushed words in the diner with David and Mary-Margaret, and she had found out about Cora's supposed appearance and death through Christopher- who had only heard through his time with Henry.
Even when she went to Regina's home with a basketful of apple cinnamon pastries and many heavy condolences in her heart, the woman hadn't answered the door.
It almost felt as if she were being avoided entirely.
"Do you think something's going on?" Winnie asked aloud, blowing a breath of cool air over the rim of her mug, watching the tea within ripple with the gentle force.
The bakery was momentarily quiet, and she was taking full advantage of her well-deserved break, bathing in the stillness, and the faint vintage music flowing from the old stereo system in the kitchen, the sunlight filtering through the large front window in striking rainbows.
"Considering the fact that you don't know," The man across from her chuckled, sipping his own warm tea, the chocolate chip cookies on his plate lying half forgotten as he had become caught up in their conversation. "I'm the last person they'd tell."
Winnie sighed deeply, a small frown tugging at her lips, wishing that everyone could see Jefferson for the man he truly was. Every action and decision he made was that of a loyal friend and fiercely loving father, not a monster, nor a madman.
