The Secrets Her Heart Keeps

Chapter Fourteen

Once the hotel manager was able to simply flick the power switch and turn their electricity back on, she and Emma did rent a movie as they waited for their son to arrive. At first, the situation was uncomfortable between them, both unsure how close, or how intimate they should really be with one another. Considering, they have spent eight years avoiding physical contact between each other, so trying to break through those barriers is rather difficult to navigate through.

After the movie began, Emma was the one who slowly started to scoot just a little bit closer, helping to ease the tension between them. When the movie was halfway through, they were both sinking deep into the cushions, with Regina's legs draped across hers and Emma's head leaning against her shoulder for comfort. Luckily, they were able to hear the door and break apart immediately before their son caught them in such a cozy position. 

"Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!" Henry chants as he comes hazardously stumbling through the door. "Everybody!" He bellows while she and Emma scramble to their feet toward him. He chuckles, releasing the door and allowing it to slam shut behind him. "Man, great song. We really miss out in Storiesbooks!"

"Oh god," Emma laughs while Regina just groans at their son's drunken state, again.

"Oh look, it's the moms," he winks dramatically, attempting to kick off his shoes, but failing miserably.

Regina is quick to swoop beside him though, curling one arm around his waist and leaning his weight against her own body for support. Emma bends down before them, taking the lead on pulling off his sneakers.

"How much did you drink, kid?" Emma grumbles, wrestling with one of his shoes.

"I lost count after the fourth chant." He tosses one arm recklessly into the air, throwing both of his mothers off balance. "Shots! Shots! Shots!"

"Henry," Regina scolds in the most demanding tone that always snaps him to attention. "You have to be quiet, we don't need a noise complaint right now."

Henry's glossy eyes squint in her direction, causing her to swallow thickly under his scrutiny. He taps her nose playfully and smiles like a madman.

"You seem happier."

"I just yelled at you," she scoffs at his oblivious state.

"Ma," he shouts, slinging his other arm around Emma and pulling his mothers in suffocatingly close to his chest. "You make her happier!" He giggles, squeezing them both so close that Regina's nose is practically kissing Emma's.

"Okay kid, we need to get you into bed," Emma concludes, struggling to untangle herself from his long limbs.

"Hey ma, you're from this world, do you know this song?" He clears his throat before shouting his chant once again. "Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Everybody!"

"Yeah, it was all the rage when you were learning your ABC's," she deadpans, guiding him to stand more on his own.

"It's not that old."

"It's old."

"Wait! Where's my phone, I gotta play it for my mom," he insists, digging deep in his pocket in search of his phone.

"Honey, as cryptic as the song sounds, I can wait until the morning for you to play it," Regina retorts, guiding him toward his bedroom.

"Maybe we should make him eat," Emma whispers, tossing his one arm over her shoulder, so she can help Regina move him.

"Oh man, tell me you got pizza," Henry practically salivates all over the floor below.

"He needs food to absorb the alcohol," Emma murmurs, trying to ignore their obnoxious son.