Chapter Text
When Darling Charming had made the decision to wake Apple White up from her eternal sleep, she was only truly thinking of three things.
Apple laid there, perfectly still. Perfectly pale. An apple perhaps lodged somewhere just beneath the surface of delicate skin and her dragon riding chest plate. It was completely unfair, completely unnatural and not right. And as all her friends stood over her, mourning her already without the desire to act or have the heart to believe she was capable of being saved—Darling’s brother stood there closest to her, panicking that he was not her true love. Though she could see he was more scared of what this meant for him as a man. It meant he wasn’t a good prince. He wasn’t a savior. But Darling Charming knew who she was. And she knew Apple was worth saving—or at least the attempt to.
Apple shot up, reaching a lone hand to the sky. Though their eyes met and Darling could feel her heart start to race as she remembered so many things. Inviting Apple over for the holiday feasts, helping one another get ready in her bedroom while Daring and Dexter sword fought on the grassy knolls. Apple looking at her with her soft eyes and wide smile, whispering, “You are such a wonderful princess, Darling.” She remembered feeling feet kick her under the table that very night. Shooting pointed glares at her brothers who pretended not to notice. She had thoughtlessly wondered, how are they kicking me from so far away? Why do they not laugh at my discomfort? Her eyes looked up from her food after the fifth kick and found Apple already staring at her. She quickly looked away, her smile returning as she laughed at whatever it was the Charming King had said. But the image of her before imprinted itself in Darling’s mind forever. The curve of her blue eyes and the pout of her red lips. The single curl drifting over her nose as if Apple was silently asking, “Are you here with me?”
Darling gripped Apple by the arms as she shouted out the command that clung to her very soul. “Breathe Apple! Breathe!” She was scared of what everyone was thinking as they watched her lean in. But what made Darling hesitate, for even that half second, was the thought maybe, it wouldn’t work. Maybe nothing would work and this would be the last moment where she could believe in seeing Apple again, alive and happy. But it was that same thought that made Darling lean down and capture her red lips. There was no world where Darling would want to live without Apple White. She had to try for both of them to live again.
Darling let go over everything inside of her, into Apple’s parted lips.
When Apple’s eyes opened, it felt as if Darling began to breathe again. She didn’t even realize she hadn’t been until Apple spoke. “What happened?” Her eyes darted between Darling’s hand and then to her brother, standing behind her, smiling and red cheeked. “Did Daring wake me?” Apple asked.
Darling felt her heart sink again. But this time it was different. Everything was different after that day. True Love’s kiss or CPR—whatever anyone called it. It had made Darling Charming fall deeply in love with Apple White. And Darling, even after 9 months had passed, was still trying to figure out what to do with that.
The two princesses had been meeting in the same place for months now: the little stone balcony tucked behind the old library, where the ivy grew thick enough to hide them from the courtyard below. No one came there anymore. It was too far from the classrooms, too cold in winter, and too boring for anyone looking for somewhere exciting to sneak off to.
Which made it perfect.
Apple always arrived first.
She'd sit on the stone railing with her legs crossed, golden hair spilling over one shoulder, pretending she hadn't been waiting.
Darling would always enter and say, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” To which Apple would shake her head and wave a hand. And then they’d talk.
The first time they had met there Apple was standing, looking straight at the door. She waited until it shut to ask, “Did you actually wake me from the sleep?”
Darling stared at her. Wide eyed and nervously rubbing her hands together behind her back as she tried to come up with more than a simple yes. “I had to try. It was just CPR, I just breathed air—”
“So you did?” Apple asked softly. There were bags under her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping. Darling swallowed hard and reached out to her as if trying to hold her. She stopped herself short knowing it wouldn’t do either of them good. “Does…does this mean you and I are fated to be together? Are you my prince?”
Darling licked her lips. Her eyes stung as she saw how desperate Apple was. But the truth could not be changed. “I’m not a boy, Apple,” Darling muttered. “So…I’m not your prince.”
Apple looked away. “I suppose so.” Though the answer was, as they both knew but refused to say outloud, not a real answer at all. Apple approached Darling slowly. Her eyes took in every inch of Darling’s face, then down to her form and feet, and back up to the top of her hair. All the ways Darling was still that wonderful princess. And all the ways she was the bravest person Apple had ever known.
Apple reached out and pecked her lips to Darling’s cheek. “Thank you for saving me.” Her words echoed out in Darling’s ears as her hair rose in the air from the breeze of Apple rushing out of the room. The door shut behind her and Darling stood there for a long time, her cheek burning.
Over time, Darling became accustomed to the texts from Apple. “Can we meet?”
Always a little after dinner. Always here, on the balcony behind the library. Apple always first, Darling a little late.
They talked about classes. About their friends. About their parents. About how strange everything had become after the Dragon Games. Sometimes Apple would ask how Daring was doing. Now that he was dating Rosabella, she was there for the holiday dinners. They hardly spoke. He never asked Darling how she was doing.
Sometimes the two princesses didn't talk at all.
Sometimes Apple would look at Darling for so long that she would become painfully aware of every inch of herself. It was one of those days when Darling came rushing into the room, propping her sword against the wall as she undid her White Knight armor. She apologized over and over as she explained she had to help someone and that was why she was especially late. As Darling undressed and returned to her dress she felt Apple’s eyes on her. When she looked up Apple pretended not to be staring. She waited till Darling had sat to reach over and touch her hair.
Just lightly.
Her fingers slipped through one of the loose strands near her temple and Darling went still. She did this sometimes.
Never enough to explain.
Never enough to ask about.
“You've got something here,”she murmured.
“Do I?” Darling whispered.
Apple frowned. “No.” Her fingers remained in her hair. Darling swallowed. A faint smile returned to her lips as Apple’s eyes narrowed. It hit Darling that she was sitting the closest she had ever been when Apple leaned forward and kissed her again for the first time in nearly four months.
Darling cupped her face and tilted her head as she kissed her back. They kissed until the sun came up. Long enough that when Apple finally, breathlessly, announced they should return before they were late to class, her lipstick had been kissed off and her dress was askew. They parted at the door, Apple’s eyes gentle and her lips curved upward. Her cheeks rouge as she muttered, “Same time tonight?”
Throughout the day Darling tricked herself into believing the previous night had been a show of gratitude. Apple had just wanted to show her how much Darling’s decision had helped her. And that night, when Apple saw Darling she shot up and looked into her eyes before touching her face and pushing her against the wall, her curiosity manifesting. She was deciding if she liked her, perhaps. Deciding if she wanted to keep doing this. Her tongue caressed Darling’s and she shut her eyes and gave in to just liking it. Because, Darling did like it very much.
It had been frighteningly easy. It became easier as they met again and again over the next five months.
The softness of her lips. The warmth of her hand against her cheek. The way she always seemed to hesitate for half a second before closing the distance, as if she were giving Darling one last opportunity to stop her. She never did.
When she pulled away, Darling kept her eyes closed. She didn’t know why. Maybe because opening them made everything too real. Because she was scared Apple would see how much love and desire were in her blue eyes, the desire to never stop, never pull away. After a moment, Darling would open her eyes.
Like clockwork she would see Apple was staring at her. Not at her lips. At her face as a whole. Then her eyes rose to her hair. She looked away almost immediately.
“Why do you do that?” Darling asked eventually.
She blinked. “Do what?”
“Look at me.”
A little laugh escaped her. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Why do you kiss me and then not speak to me in the halls?” Darling asked instead. Apple leaned back, her eyelashes fluttered.
“I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” Very soon she was back to flashing her sweet smile that could convince a rat it was a bear. But it wasn't quite convincing. Darling looked down at her hands. There were so many things she had wanted to ask her.
“What are we? Why do you only touch me when we're alone? Why do you look at me like that?”
And, perhaps most painfully—Do you wish I were someone else?
Instead, she said nothing. Because she already knew the answer she was afraid of. Apple White had been raised to believe in princes. True love was supposed to come riding toward her on a white horse. Darling Charming was a knight.
A girl. And apparently, neither of them knew what that meant. So they kept meeting there.
They kept kissing.
And every morning, they went back to pretending nothing had happened.
Darling had sat at the table in the castleteria, waiting for her friends to return with their trays. She was tired from the previous night. Her heart was stuck on Apple’s words and there was no one to seek advice on it. That was the pain of being in a secret relationship—if one could even call it that. Darling’s chin touched her palm as she dared too at that royal table, the blonde beauty in red already speaking animatedly to her friends.
Darling’s stomach churned as she imagined kissing her later that night. And perhaps, if she was feeling bold enough, she would ask Apple to do something in the daytime.
She could hear her already. “Like a date?”
“Like a…”
“You’re asking Apple on a date?” Darling sat up and turned to see Dexter bumping his shoulder into Hopper Croakington’s. The table was full of princes. They all began to laugh as the frog prince smirked.
“I feel like I have more of a chance now than ever. I mean, I swear, she's different now.”
“Apple?” someone asked, confirming.
“Yeah,” Dexter said. “Daring broke up with her a while ago.”
“I thought so but you know Daring. King with the ladies. I just assumed he and Apple had some agreement. Especially with the rumors.” There was more laughter.
Hopper leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “She kissed me once,” he said. “Or almost did. Whatever. Point is, after everything with Darling, I figured she was on the down low. But I still think I ought to try.”
“You have a thing for lesbians?” A prince chortled.
“I mean what’s the worst that can happen? She isn’t into me, she can at least fake date me and give me a little show in private with Darling—”
Darling’s hand tightened around her fork.
“That’s my sister,” Dexter said, his voice warning.
“Your sister is a babe. It’s a shame really,” Hopper sighed. “The pretty ones are always—”
The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed through the entire room.
Someone gasped.
Hopper stumbled sideways, clutching his face. Darling was breathing hard. She didn’t even remember moving. “Say one more word about her.”
Hopper stared at her. His cheeks aflame. “Darling—”
She drew her sword. The blade flashed from its sheath. Every conversation in the dining hall died instantly. “Do not make me repeat myself.”
Hopper raised both hands. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry Darling. A-and Apple!”
Darling could feel everyone staring. Teachers. Students. Friends.
Everyone.
Apple was standing near the doors. Her face had gone completely pale. Their eyes met.
For one horrible second, neither of them moved. It was then Darling had realized everything Apple was afraid of had been brought about by Darling. She had made it obvious. She had told an entire room that hearing another person talk about Apple had been enough to make her lose her mind.
Apple looked at Darling like she was seeing her for the first time. She lowered the sword.
Someone whispered, “Oh my godmother.” She didn't wait to hear anything else.
Darling shoved the blade back into its sheath and walked out. She made it halfway down the corridor before she heard footsteps behind her.
“Darling!”
Her eyes burned. She picked up the pace.
“Darling, wait.” Apple caught up to her. She was breathing hard. “What was that?”
Darling couldn’t even bring herself to look at her. “You heard him.”
“I heard you hit him.”
“He was talking about you.”
Apple shrugged. “What’s new?”
“He was lying.”
“I know.”
“So what's the problem?” Darling snapped.
“The problem,” she said quietly, “is that I don't understand why you cared so much.”
Darling’s eyes met Apple’s. And they were fierce just as much as they were glossy. “I'm tired of pretending I don't.”
Apple went still. Darling swallowed. She hadn't meant to say it aloud. She hadn't meant to say any of it. But now that she had started, she couldn't seem to stop. “Every time we're alone, you touch me like you want something. You kiss me like you want something. You look at me like—”
“Like what?” Apple whispered. Darling looked away.
“Like you're trying to figure out whether you can love me.”
For a moment, Apple said nothing. Then, quietly, “You think I wish you were a boy.” Darling's silence answered for her. Apple's expression softened. “Darling.” She reached toward her hair.
Darling flinched before she could stop herself. Apple's hand froze in the air. It was such a small movement, but it seemed to hurt Apple more than Darling expected. Slowly, Apple lowered her hand.
“I don't touch your hair because I wish it belonged to someone else. I touch it because I like it.” Darling finally looked at her. Apple smiled, almost shyly. “And I look at you because I like looking at you.”
Darling's eyes burned. “That isn't the same thing.”
“No,” Apple said. “It isn't.” She stepped closer. “I kiss you because I like kissing you.”
Darling's breath caught. Apple reached up again, slower this time, giving her every opportunity to pull away. Her fingers brushed the strand of hair near Darling's temple and tucked it behind her ear. “And I think you're beautiful.”
Darling's eyes closed. She almost laughed. Not because it was funny. Because she'd spent months preparing herself for Apple to tell her that none of this meant anything. Instead, she was standing there trying not to cry. “I don't understand,” Darling admitted. “You're Apple White.”
A tiny smile appeared on Apple's lips. “And you're Darling Charming.”
“Exactly.” Darling shook her head. “You're supposed to want a prince.”
Apple's smile faded. “I’ve changed.”
The honesty of it made Darling's chest ache. Apple looked down at their hands. “I thought I knew exactly what my life was supposed to be. I thought I knew who I was supposed to love, what I was supposed to want, and what my happily ever after was supposed to look like.” She looked back up. “Then you saved me.” Darling's throat tightened. “And I couldn't stop thinking about you.”
Darling stared at her. Apple gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Which was terribly inconvenient.” A tear slipped down Darling's cheek. Apple wiped it away with her thumb. “I kept wondering if it was gratitude. Or the kiss. Or the fact that you were the first person who refused to let me die.” Her thumb lingered against Darling's cheek. “So I waited.”
Darling's mouth parted. “You waited almost a year.”
Apple smiled. “I wanted to be certain.”
“And are you?” Apple's eyes dropped briefly to Darling's lips. Then back to her eyes.
“Yes.” The word was barely louder than a whisper.
Darling's heart stumbled. “Certain of what?”
Apple stepped closer. “That I don't want a prince.”
Darling's breath caught. “What do you want?”
Apple's fingers intertwined with hers. “You.”
Darling stared at her. For once, she didn't have to wonder what Apple meant. For once, there was no balcony to hide in. No darkness. No excuse. No pretending they were friends or less than and at the same time more. They were standing beneath the fluorescent lights outside the castleteria, with students still whispering somewhere behind them. And Apple didn't let go of her hand. Darling's lips parted.
“Apple…I really like you.”
She smiled. “I really like you too.” Then she leaned forward. The kiss was soft. Nothing like the frantic one that had awakened Apple. Nothing like the secret kisses stolen behind the library walls.
This one was soft—fueled by a choice. When they parted, Apple rested her forehead against Darling's. Darling laughed quietly through the tears still clinging to her lashes and she shook her head. “You know everyone is going to know now.”
“I know,” Apple’s lips touched Darling’s cheek.
“And your mother will probably have a royal fit.”
“I know!” Apple began to laugh as Darling’s lips kissed her neck. “And your brothers—”
“I especially know.” Darling laughed again. “We can handle it together.”
For the first time since the Dragon Games, Darling Charming didn't feel like the girl who had broken a fairy tale. She felt like the girl who had finally found her own.
And Apple White breathed life back into her again.