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Regina/Emma for the kissing meme. Warning: rampant domesticity.
Regina stepped into her house and inhaled the warm scent of waffles. She felt a lecture rising to her lips, annoyed that Emma had feed their son sugary carbohydrates instead of a more balanced meal, her own frustration at being kept late at the office, dealing with annoyed citizens who still resented that Snow White hadn’t taken been willing to run for Mayor (smart girl), instead of here, spending time with Henry and Emma.
She walked across the foyer, the sound of her heels against the wood sounding angry and violent even to her own ears.
Regina swept into the kitchen, coat flaying behind her, briefcase still in hand.
“Finally,” Emma said, from where she was prying another waffle out of the waffle iron.
“Woo-hoo, we can eat!” Henry said, rushing from a stool at the island into the dining room. Regina could see that the table was already set.
Emma pulled a casserole dish full of waffles out of the oven.
“I was about to send out the search parties,” she said, peeling off a piece of waffle with one hand and shoving it in her mouth. “I’m starving.”
Regina felt her anger awkwardly fray like worn thread. She felt off-balance, suddenly.
Emma pressed a quick kiss to Regina’s cheek as she went past, and then called back. “Get you mayoral ass to the table, Regina, we’re all hungry. And before you say anything, one, breakfast for dinner is a great American tradition, and two, we have fruit to go with the waffles, which makes them healthy.”
Regina left her briefcase against a cabinet, draped her coat over it. “I can’t imagine how you came to that conclusion,” she stated briskly, and followed Emma to the table.
Regina stepped into her house and inhaled the warm scent of waffles. She felt a lecture rising to her lips, annoyed that Emma had feed their son sugary carbohydrates instead of a more balanced meal, her own frustration at being kept late at the office, dealing with annoyed citizens who still resented that Snow White hadn’t taken been willing to run for Mayor (smart girl), instead of here, spending time with Henry and Emma.
She walked across the foyer, the sound of her heels against the wood sounding angry and violent even to her own ears.
Regina swept into the kitchen, coat flaying behind her, briefcase still in hand.
“Finally,” Emma said, from where she was prying another waffle out of the waffle iron.
“Woo-hoo, we can eat!” Henry said, rushing from a stool at the island into the dining room. Regina could see that the table was already set.
Emma pulled a casserole dish full of waffles out of the oven.
“I was about to send out the search parties,” she said, peeling off a piece of waffle with one hand and shoving it in her mouth. “I’m starving.”
Regina felt her anger awkwardly fray like worn thread. She felt off-balance, suddenly.
Emma pressed a quick kiss to Regina’s cheek as she went past, and then called back. “Get you mayoral ass to the table, Regina, we’re all hungry. And before you say anything, one, breakfast for dinner is a great American tradition, and two, we have fruit to go with the waffles, which makes them healthy.”
Regina left her briefcase against a cabinet, draped her coat over it. “I can’t imagine how you came to that conclusion,” she stated briskly, and followed Emma to the table.
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