Glass Hearts (GirlxGirl) (OUAT FanFiction) (Lesbian Story)

Chapter Two

Remembering dreams was always like looking through a veil. The basics were there, the shapes and colours and textures, but never the details. Never the specifics, never the truths. That was what it was like for Regina. The more she tried to analyse the aspects of her dream, the murkier it became. It was getting to the point where she wasn’t sure which the beginning was, and which was the end.

It was frustrating the woman more than she’d care to admit. She felt like she was standing on a river bank, looking into the depths of a lake which was covered in smog, knowing that the answers were right in front of her but just out of reach. Just out of sight. It was cruel, taunting.

Exhaling loudly, the queen rose her eyes to the mirror she was standing in front of and took a long, hard look. Regina was staring at herself, but still was unable to recognise the woman in front of her. She ran a hand down her abdomen and stood up straight, shoulders back and looking as regal as she could muster, imagining the rightful crown that used to adorn her shoulder-length, black hair. The clothes she wore in this world were far different to the elegant and expensive dresses that were handmade for her in the Enchanted Forest. She had to admit though, the black power suits she wore here made her look just as in control as the dresses did. She was wearing one of her favourite ones today as she wanted to look her best when chaperoning Miss Swan and Henry around the author’s house. After insulting her a few nights ago, the blonde had took it upon herself to apologise to Regina, to which she grudgingly had accepted.

The three had decided to keep their little, ‘Nancy Drew’ investigations to themselves, which Regina was grateful for. She would never admit this out loud, but deep down, she was ashamed at the desperate lengths she was reducing herself to for even a glimpse of a happy ending. She knew she had become a shade of her former self.

Clearing her throat, Regina stepped away from the mirror that portrayed her imperfections, her failures and slowly walked down the stairs towards the kitchen, desperate for coffee. Her eyes were slightly red from another night of restless sleep and her brain was fuzzy, causing a severe lack of concentration. She hoped she could stay awake long another to be of some use to her son.

Walking into the brightly lit room, she started the kettle, yawning loudly and letting her eyes wander. They snapped to attention at the drawings that were stuck to the fridge door and she smiled absentmindedly, remembering the occasions Henry had presented them to her, proud of his work. He had been such a young boy then, oblivious to the true nature of his adoptive mother, a heart full of love and innocence. Back then, Regina could do no harm in his eyes and he adored her unconditionally. She had revelled in it while it lasted, but she knew it would have to change eventually, if not because all teenagers resented their parents in some way or another. Never in a million years did she think it would be because of a storybook that the boy took to heart, believing with all his might that it was true, that his mother was the Evil Queen.

Regina felt cold, hard depression slap her in the face. Even though things had relatively worked out between adoptive mother and son, this wasn’t the life she wanted Henry to grow up in. She certainly hadn’t wanted his biological mother to step back in it and the former queen scowled at the thought of Emma, remembering the first time she had shown up at her doorstep, claiming that Henry had travelled all the way to Boston, just to find her.

Regina was ashamed to admit that she was horribly jealous of the hold the blonde had over her son. The two had clicked instantly, Henry becoming infatuated barely two weeks into their newfound relationship. Regina could never get the boy to look at her the way he did Emma. It stung her blackened heart. There was one thing in this world that she loved dearly, and that was Henry.

The loud sound of an obnoxious car horn scared her half to death and she cursed, realising that she had been moping for far too long. Quickly, she poured her half-cold coffee into a travel mug and hurried outside. It was a dreary day, the clouds a depressing grey, the drizzle of rain dampening her face.