The Most Resilient Heart.

Strict and Steady Routines.

Second chapter of the day, here we go...

Nothing. He braced himself. Still nothing.

He had swallowed the piece of apple at least ten seconds ago! He takes another bite. He was just a mere mortal: no magic in his blood, so why was it not working?

Snow looks back and smirks. “Don’t you know,” A surprisingly dark voice escapes her. “Regina has only ever killed one person she ever loved.” On purpose, She forgot to add. “There is an ancient law of magic that I heard of once, that a sorcerer or sorceress of magical powers can't kill love more than once. She can hurt it, and I'd say she is very good at that, but she can't kill it. She can’t kill you, Robin. Not even unintentionally.”

Robin looks down at the apple and then back up at the up-stairs room, lights now all switched-off. If she couldn’t kill him, she must love him and if she loved him, then why was he not beside her at that very moment?

“Robin, you need to get back to your wife. That’s where you belong.”

He was too shattered to fight back or even feel like it.

Snow watches as Robin walks slowly away from the Mayor’s Mansion. She was doing the right thing, she kept telling herself. This was the right thing to do. She knew what it was like to have Regina take everything away from you, especially take away your truelove. Marion didn’t deserve this. Marion didn’t deserve what Snow had deserved all those years.

***

Regina would get up at six thirty each morning, be dressed by six forty-five and at Granny’s by seven. Town meeting every Tuesday and Thursday and Mondays and Fridays with Henry; the best and worst days of the week. The rest of her weekdays were either spent in the Office signing papers or in the Forest teaching magic.

She had decided that if she distracted herself enough, she wouldn’t think of certain people. A certain person. And so she taught anyone who came to her wanting to learn. Of course, most people who came to her weren’t born with magic so she would just teach them the sorts of magic tricks she had seen people do in this world. And very rarely did someone come with true powers but when they did come she did everything in her power to teach them. So far she taught only two sorcerers: Emma and Henry. She was sure that there were more people in Storybrooke that had the capacity to do wonderful things but none came to her. She didn’t expect them to either.

***

Robin would wake at six thirty at the Merry Men’s camp. He had told Marion that it was where he belonged and that he couldn’t live anywhere else. She had offered to join him but he convinced her that it was best for the baby for her to stay in the apartment. Roland, of course, stayed with him. The forest was, after all, his home too. Everything at the camp would be organised by six forty-five for all the other Merry Men and he would be at Granny’s by seven. The rest of his days were spent hunting for lunch and dinner.

But every day passing he felt he needed more. More to take his mind off her. And so he organised lessons on how to use a bow. He had children’s lessons, adults’ lessons, lessons for all ages afternoons and mornings. Whatever the client preferred.

***

Their routines were strict and steady. They couldn’t let themselves be side tracked or they would end up hurting more than just themselves.

And the thing they looked most forward to every day, was seven o’clock. At Granny’s.

Regina would sit at the end of the bar and order a straight black espresso and a cinnamon bun. It always reminded her of Henry.

Robin would sit at the other end of the bar and order a latte and an apple Danish. It always reminded him of her.

And as they ate, they would steal glances across the room. At each other. They never smiled whilst looking into the other’s eyes but each time Regina lowered her head, she would beam down at the cinnamon bun in front of her. And each time she did this, Robin would linger his eyes on her a little longer and marvel at her smile.

It may come as a surprise to know that no one really took any notice of their daily rendevous. But they could not have cared less about the outside world in that moment. That moment was theirs: a moment that they could spend just looking into each other’s eyes, blushing like teenagers. Neither really recognised how complicated they were making the whole situation but that was the thing about that moment: it wasn’t for thinking. It was for imagining what could be, what could have been and pretending that everything was the way they wished it to be.

Every morning that he came in from a very early morning lesson of archery, all dishevelled and rugged (in other words, extremely good-looking), Regina would undress him with her eyes. She recorded the days he came in like that: Monday, Friday. Each Monday and Friday morning she would dress a little more provocatively: a little more cleavage, a little more leg. She couldn’t have it that she was more attracted to him some days than he was to her because sometimes it was too much for her to want him and know for sure that he did not feel as much as she did. She never knew for sure whether he did feel anything, (apparently the fact that he still came to Granny’s every morning at the same time as her wasn’t enough proof), but it was enough to know that no heterosexual man could have looked at her and not wanted her.

And it worked. Every Monday and Friday he looked forward to that sexy display of flesh and may have even worked a little harder those mornings to appear more rugged. He knew why she dressed like that every Monday and Friday. It was a little game they played.

But one thing he didn’t know about her was whether she knew whom those morning lessons were dedicated to. Maybe then, if she were to have known, she would have stopped coming to Granny’s.

***

Henry laughs as he watches Robin pull out some cologne even after his deodorant. “Meeting someone special today are we?”

Robin looks up at the not-so-small boy and goes a little red. “No, no one.” He looks back at the ground putting his cologne away and starts picking up the fallen arrows from their finished lesson.

“No one, hmm?” Henry smirks and walks around Robin, looking at him from every angle. “You know, I have noticed that these past few weeks you’ve tried to tire yourself out a bit more… Just guessing, but is this to make yourself look a bit more-”

Robin chucks a bag of arrows into the teenager’s hands. “Stop thinking and start packing up.” He turns away frustrated and a little smile creeps to his lips. This boy could read him like an open book. Just like his mother. (He was not thinking about the boy's birth-mother.)

“Speaking about tiring ourselves out, does your mother know you come here every Monday and Friday morning?” He turns to Henry.

“Of course! And I don’t see how that has anything to do with tiring ourselves out…” The cocky smile doesn’t disappear from the boy’s face.

Robin raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?” It wasn’t possible that Regina was okay with her son spending these mornings with him.

“Yes, Emma knows.” Henry turns trying to avoid the next series of serious questions. “She knows that I come here to get away from the screaming baby and from the lovesick, obsessing parents. The only thing she doesn’t know is that I also escape to get away from her and Hook.” He sticks out his tongue, disgusted.

“Henry,” Robin says sternly. “Regina?”

“What does she matter to you?” Henry says under his breath before quickly hurrying off.

Robin is left standing there, staring into the forest. Henry was right. He had no right to ask questions about Regina. No right to ask about the woman he loved.

Ok. There's a link for Coffee: Your personality in a cup. I couldn't really find one for Robin... I know they say latte's are for people pleasers and I definitely don't think Robin is one of these, but I know people who get latte's and have definitely nothing in common with this stereotype. So, a little imagination please?

... Pure Imagination...

CC;)