( she's gonna stay out of trouble just as soon as he stops wearing guyliner. meaning, never. Emma doesn't really like being the savior, she's told him as much more than once. it's not something she can just turn away from, though, because there's so much more than just her on the line her. her family, the whole town, needs her to save them. she may be prickly and argumentative but she wouldn't doom an entire population to die. it's even more imperative they stop Zelena now that they know that she's trying to change history, make sure everything and everyone they know is wiped completely away. if she doesn't stop her, Henry won't exist, her mother wouldn't be born, Hook would probably still be battling his crocodile... no, they've got to find a way to stop her.
Emma just doesn't know how. if they had a chance before when she had her magic, now things are absolutely hopeless. everyone knows it, they're just not saying it. she's useless without her magic, nobody has to tell her that, she already knows.
she huffs a dry (and not particularly amused) laugh at his insistence. ) Yeah, and then what? ( he's injured enough that no matter what promises he makes, he's not going to be nailing her on any of these desks. she doesn't need him to strip to know that. he's slow at working his shirt open, too, and Emma grows impatient and dusts his hands away to do it herself. her knuckles are probably cold when they run against his skin — he's too warm for a man that refuses to get a proper winter coat in Maine. )
Shit. ( it's way worse than she thought it was, dark purple matched against an open wound. it's very nearly something she should send him to Whale for, if it were any deeper. ) Why didn't you say it was this bad?
AHHH I'm so sorry I'm so slow!!
Emma just doesn't know how. if they had a chance before when she had her magic, now things are absolutely hopeless. everyone knows it, they're just not saying it. she's useless without her magic, nobody has to tell her that, she already knows.
she huffs a dry (and not particularly amused) laugh at his insistence. ) Yeah, and then what? ( he's injured enough that no matter what promises he makes, he's not going to be nailing her on any of these desks. she doesn't need him to strip to know that. he's slow at working his shirt open, too, and Emma grows impatient and dusts his hands away to do it herself. her knuckles are probably cold when they run against his skin — he's too warm for a man that refuses to get a proper winter coat in Maine. )
Shit. ( it's way worse than she thought it was, dark purple matched against an open wound. it's very nearly something she should send him to Whale for, if it were any deeper. ) Why didn't you say it was this bad?