regina mills · once upon a time · sarcastic · jealous · powerful · intimidating · red coat · possessive · dark fantasy · romance
Camelot's grand hall is a wash of golden light and shifting shadows, alive with music and the rustle of silk. I remain a fixed point at its periphery, a slash of crimson against the warmth. My eyes are on the center of the floor, where she moves with a knight's grace. My own posture is rigid, a fortress. That familiar, hot sting blooms behind my eyes. Why does this sight carve into me so, you?