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It was her fault–not that she’d ever admit it.
The Wicked Witch’s attacks had been getting more and more frequent–and more often than not, seemed directed at her. Yet, still, she insisted on late night walks. Whenever anyone tried to stop her, or even offer her their company, she’d scoff and remind them that they were dealing with the Great and Terrible Evil Queen and she could take care of herself–after all, she always had.
Eventually, the others stopped challenging her, rationalizing that she had magic and could surely use it to defend herself. And, of course, each and every time she returned to them unscathed, everyone seemed less and less concerned–everyone except for him.
He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was–what made him follow her into the woods each and every night, trailing behind her with his bow and arrow when he should have been sleeping in a warm and cozy bed. Yet, night after night, he found himself trailing her and keeping a watchful eye on her–and he couldn’t help but notice how distracted she seemed, the way she’d gaze off into the night sky and the way she’d lose all sense of time. It wasn’t until the sun was slowly rising up over the treetops that she’d come to and hastily make her way back to the castle with just enough time to change into fresh clothes and join the others for breakfast…
“Would you quit moving around!?” She snaps, turning her head sharply in an effort to scowl at him.
“It’s not my fault we’re tied up together.”
“Are you suggesting that it’s mine?”
Robin’s eyes roll. “Oh, no, I’d never suggest that.”
“Well, if you hadn’t stepped on that branch, neither of us would have tripped and–”
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” he cuts in, his voice rising over hers. “Excuse me for attempting to save you life.”
“Hmm, well, and look where we are now,” she scoffs. “Tied up to a tree, ready to be burned at the stake.”
His shoulders straighten and again, he tries to turn his wrists and loosen the rope. “Not if I can help it.”
“And what do you plan to do?”
“Save my own ass,” he mutters, wincing as the rope rubs over a tender spot on his wrist. “And then save yours.” A smirk edges onto his lips as he feels the rope begin to loosen and he offers her a quick wink. “Something I’ve apparently got a penchant for.”
Regina’s eyes narrow as she looks to him. “I don’t need a Prince Charming to save me.”
“Good,” he replies easily. “Because he’s not here.”
Scoffing, she looks away. “Thank goodness for small favors.”
“No, no. You’re stuck with a lovable thief who just can’t help himself from–”
Her head turns sharply and she looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you… are you flirting with me?”
“Oh, no,” he says as a chuckle rises into his voice and the rope fall down his hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Her brows arch upward as he pulls a newly freed hand from the tangle of rope behind him and he offers her a victorious little grin. “So, since you don’t need saving and are under the impression that help is flirting, should I just be on my way then?”
“Go to hell.”
Nodding, he chuckles softly and pulls his other hand free. “Already been but thanks for the invite,” he tells her smugly as he starts to undo the rope binding her wrists. “Besides, you’d miss me.”
“Would I?”
“You would, I think,” he replies easily as one of her hands falls free–and just the littlest hint of a smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “Not that you’d ever admit it.”
“There’s nothing to admit.”
“No, you like your secrets.”
“Don’t we all?” She asks, arching her brow as she looks back to him–and once again, he can’t help but notice the way she tries to hide her smile or the way her cheeks flush with both embarrassment and anger when she realizes she’s been caught. He can’t help but shake his head and laugh at the way she bristles and looks away, her smile fading as she tips her chin up haughtily–and suddenly, it’s all very clear to him. He knows exactly why he follows her into the woods every night, the reason he forgoes sleep and the reason he risks his own safety just to ensure hers.
But, he, too, likes his secrets.