1. Gratitude (Swan Queen)
"Henry told me exactly what it was that you did — that you could have left us both to die, but you didn't," she says, abrupt and misplaced as it is, after what seems like twenty eight years of searching for what she thinks you want to hear.
"Your gratitude is the last thing I need, Miss Swan," you spit back at her and her foolish attempt at reconciliation.
"So you admit you do need it," Emma smirks; it's the kind of smirk that reminds you all too much of her father when he's bested you, humiliated you or outsmarted you, the kind of elvish lop-sided grin that must have run in their family for generations — but there's another quality to it, something that crosses the malice you associate with said grin, and you turn your back to her, unable to face it.
"I was wrong about you."
"You are wrong about a lot of—" you turn around, but she's not there anymore.
"…Things," you finish in a whisper a good octave below where you started. You don't doubt the invalidity of your thoughts at this moment, but still they are there, trying to convince you that maybe, just maybe, this decision is the first one you've made that you will not begin to regret quite as soon.