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P.S: You are worthy

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A/N Hello! I want to tell something: This eight is my birthday and I am going to be with my girlfriend and her family from tomorrow six until Monday ten so I won’t update neither this story or any others since I’m going to be with them and without wifi. And about this chapter... I know that is shorter than the previous ones but I would like to remind you that I love cliffhangers ;)

Henry exited the apartment with a triumphal look in his eyes, the little box containing the two hair safely tuck inside her pants. As he closed the door behind him he thought for a moment if he was doing the right thing, the magic wasn’t good and he knew it but also he knew that no one around him was going to explain to him what was happening to his moms and he wanted answers. Pursing his lips she nodded to himself and exited the place walking as fast as possible, the cold making her cheeks turn rosy.

Without his knowledge a lanky man looked at him from the other side of the street with a concern look in his features and, patting his Dalmatian, he tilted his head worried that Henry was walking alone and without protection, extracting her cell Archie proceeded to call to the first number that he had in his memory: David.

SQ

Meanwhile Emma was closing the door of the station while trying to hide as much skin as possible from the northern wind that had been blowing in the city since the arrival of the Snow Queen. With her teeth chattering a little she finally closed the place and proceeded to seat on her car in which a single letter was waiting for her.

She looked at both sides of the street but Regina, or no one for that matters, was there so she shrugged and with a little bit of excitement and forgetting the cold for a moment she opened the letter that had a little Golden Alexander’s glued to the paper with magic.

“How is it possible?” Asked to herself as she touched the golden petals of the flower, it only bloomed between May and June and for a moment she thought that the older woman had made magic for her. Shaking her head and dismissing the thought she thanked mentally to the other woman and started to read.

Emma

The picture was beautiful; I can’t stop looking at it. You have managed to capture the beauty of the sea at that hour in a little place, it amazed me when I first arrived her but I am amazed now because of the beauty of the photo and the possibility to have it and look at it one time and again.. When I was young I loved when it was the summer season because we went to a little cottage near the coast of the Enchanted Forest, in there I could taste the freedom that only the nature gives and carries. Maybe that was the reason behind I started riding horses.

You have quite the talent so I suppose you won’t be the horrible teacher that I thought you would be. You have passed the test.

I also want to express my gratitude for what you said about my memories; it was painful to know that I wouldn’t see Henry in my entire life but you were and are the only person that I would confide our son. I merely put my memories, Emma, but you are his mother and, albeit it still is strange to think with this premise in my head, I am happy that he found you.

You are probably wondering about the flower so I will ease your doubts: I found it today near the well, I supposed that the magic near the place preserved it and I thought that you would want to have it as you always seems to want to think positively, maybe you are right and magic isn’t only about loss and despair. Nevertheless have it and keep it.

In addition I would want to thank you for the first letter that you sent me, you helped me in a way that I didn’t think it was possible and I believe that is time to acknowledge the fact that you insisted for me. For my well-being. Thank you Emma.

Yours,

P.S: There aren’t seagulls that can talk dear, at least in this realm albeit the mermaid can say us otherwise.

Biting her lower lip Emma let out a chuckle that become a loud laugh that filled her car, the wit in Regina’s answer making her feeling warm and pleased.

She looked at the photo again once the engine of the car was on and wondered what it could be like to see Regina and talk to her instead of writing her the letters. It scared her the knowledge that maybe seeing each other they will lose what they had managed but she also needed to see the other woman, look at her, and know that she was feeling better, that they were better: Grabbing her phone she opened her contacts and looked at them until she found the brunette’s number behind a blurred photo of the brunette the first year that Emma had been in Storybrooke. Smiling at the memories Emma pressed the message button and, holding her breath she wrote a quick message that sent it before over thinking what she had done.

At first she panicked and chastised herself because of her decision, the winter still hitting her car without compassion, she had started to think that she had ruined everything when a little chirp signaled the arrival of another message.