There were hands on her face, so soft, finger tracing along her features, running her cheekbones then up across her forehead, a thumb sliding along her eyebrow before slowly making its way back down to her jaw line. There were eyes staring at her, green and blue dancing together in irises sparkling with moisture, their gaze tracking the movements of the fingers, longing and wonder and a care deeper than she'd ever seen aimed her way shining from their depths. There wasn't enough breath in her lungs, not enough by half, and words simply wouldn't form, the hundreds of questions on the tip of her tongue simply sliding off unuttered. The hands had moved further down now, stopping to explore her collarbones and shoulders, gripping upper arms with gentle need, finding their way to her wrists and then into her hands, fingers sliding between her own.

"You're real?" The words were an attempt at a statement, she thought, but tilted up at the end and became a nervous question, like once they were out they would immediately be proved false, her very existence vanishing into thin air.

"Yes." One little word, just one small confirmation, taking every bit of strength she had to speak it. Shoulders sagged and a sigh was released into the air between them, a sigh it seemed Emma had been holding onto for far longer than the minutes she'd been standing in Regina's entryway. Eyes fell away from her own for a moment, just a moment, and immediately she missed them, but then they were back and she was breathless again.

"I dreamt of you. Every night. Every single night. Was that the curse Regina? Was that some sort of failsafe you built in so I'd remember? Tell me there was a reason for it."

"You dreamt of me?" Her voice was smaller than it had ever been before, smaller than a girl begging her mother for love, smaller than a teenager in love with the stable boy, smaller than a new Queen trying to appease her King. The fingers between her own moved slightly, drawing their joined hands up between their bodies, coming to rest just below Emma's face as she began to slide her thumbs across Regina's knuckles, looking nowhere but at their linked digits like somehow she could find answers within them.

"Every night." She repeated. "And you felt so real, so familiar, like I knew who you were but I just couldn't quite remember. Like you were the most important thing in my life but somehow I'd forgotten."

Her heart clenched at that, so hard it left her nearly gasping. She was no one's "most important", not even Henry's (not anymore at least, not when he didn't even remember her name). How could she possibly be anything to Emma? Before she could find words, any words, to reject the implication of Emma's words, there were lips on hers, all soft skin and desperation, and what breath she'd managed to suck in was ripped from her lungs once more. The reality of Emma Swan, Storybrooke's Savior, pressing against her lips and body barely had a chance to register before she was pulling back again, the grip on her hands tightening and eyes so brilliant with emotion burning into hers.

"I don't want to forget you again. Please don't let me forget you again. Please, Regina, please stay this time. Don't let me wake up and forget you." Emma's pleading tone was tear soaked and strained, her thumbs now rubbing so vigorously across Regina's knuckles that they felt nearly raw. Looking into Emma's eyes, seeing the pain and desire and fear there, had her transported back in her own memories, to an ache so deep she'd thought ripping her own heart out and burying it in the woods was the only solution. It was Henry she ached for, she'd told herself, and at the time she'd truly believed it. Just Henry, he was her world. But now, with Emma standing before her holding such trepidation in every fiber of her being that it looked like she might shatter at any second, Regina realized that it wasn't just Henry. Maybe it hadn't been just Henry for a long time. Her next words were out before she even knew the truth of them.

"I dreamt of you too."

And then there were lips on lips again, this time hers surging forward to connect with Emma's, her own hidden longing breaking through and overflowing. Their hands broke apart and Emma's were in her hair and on her body in a second, while hers dragged Emma closer, diminishing any space that lingered between them. A deep moan slipped out into the quite of the house, though which of them made the sound was impossible to tell. Everything was suddenly need and want and lips on skin and hands pulling at hair and clothes and hearts pounding so hard they hurt. Regina stumbled, slamming back into wall near the stairs when Emma's hands, warm and grasping, found their way beneath her shirt. Her back arched, bowing herself into Emma's touch, head tilting back and neck exposed. It didn't take long for Emma's mouth to find her pulse point, then the tender spot just behind her ear, then the way a nip against her collarbone had her shivering and biting her own lip. Just as she felt fingertips connect with an astonishingly sensitive nipple, she twisted her magic around them and they vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, reappearing at the foot of her bed.

Emma almost tipped over when they landed, her body still unused to the magical transportation, but Regina was there with steadying hands and a soothing voice.

"Look at me Emma. Stay with me." Within an instant Emma's gaze held her own, reacquainting herself with where she was. Once again, tender touches drifted across her face as Emma traced her features in utter reverence.

"I thought I'd made you up. I thought I'd never see you...I thought I was losing my mind." Her voice was so quiet that Regina wasn't sure Emma was entirely aware she was speaking aloud at all. Again she felt her own heart struggling to beat under the weight of Emma's whispered confessions, the unspeakable something in Emma's eyes becoming clearer and clearer the longer she stood regarding Regina like she was trying to memorize someone she thought could be snatched away from her at any second. Fingers somehow hesitant and sure all at once moved from her face and back down her body, resting at the bottom of the camisole she'd been wearing under her dress that day (her mind briefly flashing back to the now long forgotten awkwardness she'd felt when Emma had barged through her door while she was wearing nothing but this thin tank top and her slip). It was only when Emma slid the shirt up and over her head did she realize that she'd been standing still, more-or-less following the Savior's lead, her body responding as if on auto-pilot.

"Regina. Stay with me." Emma commanded in a tone more requesting then demanding, and Regina was instantly right there, right with her, wrapping a hand deep into blonde hair and pulling them back together. Their hands roamed across skin, steadily stripping one another of each article of clothing they encountered along the way until there was nothing left between them but the cool night air. Emma had, at some point, coaxed Regina back onto the bed, her body laid bare to the almost too intense eyes of the other woman. With nothing but tenderness and something far too much for her to dare name, Emma touched her. Her lips, her fingers, the flesh of her body connecting with Regina as they rocked together, breath coming in pants and hearts hammering. When, finally but at the same time almost too soon, Emma allowed one finger, and then two, to tease across Regina's slick, throbbing center, she stopped. Her eyes were locked with Regina's own once more, nothing but care and desire and the sheer rightness of the moment held within them.

"Regina?" And she was asking. Actually stopping to ask, to consider Regina and be sure it was right for her too, that she was ready and that she felt wanted and...more than that, so much more than that. Regina was nodding before she even knew she'd decided on a response, her body taking over for a mouth that couldn't form words and a throat so choked by emotion that she couldn't even try.

And then Emma was inside her, deep and fully, and oh so perfectly. And Regina was crying out because it was all so much and all so incredible, and Emma was wrapped around her as she thrust inside, her free hand cradling Regina's head and her mouth finding every part of her that it could reach. There were sparks behind her tightly clenched eyes and a heat in her heart she didn't think she could survive but at the same time never again wanted to live without. Emma's voice was in her ear then, stuttering on gasps but clear nonetheless.

"I'll remember you. I'll remember you. I'll remember you. I'll remember you."

And now it was her eyes opening, her hand cupping Emma's cheek, her voice bringing Emma's eyes back to hers, centering her even as their movements against each other only sped up.

It was all there, right then, at the moment. The terrifying, intense, unspoken, repressed for so long everything between them. Love. It was love, and more of it than either woman had ever felt or believed themselves capable of sharing or deserving.

And Regina was cumming, soaring and exploding around Emma, the sounds escaping her lips taking on a quality she'd never heard before.

And then she was crying, her body limp and humming with so much, so very much. And Emma was right there, holding her steady, keeping her safe. The tears weren't bad, nor were they good, they just were. They were the overflow of feelings, of everything she'd just experienced that proved too much for her to contain within her body or her fragile heart. Everywhere Emma's skin touched hers felt right, felt alive, felt real in a way she hadn't for a year (much longer if she were truly honest). She allowed her fingers to tangle in Emma's hair, pulling her even closer and finding her lips with her own.

This kiss was different, slow and aware and bursting with love, and with it they both knew one thing with all of their hearts: They would never again forget each other. They were two halves of one heart now, and true love simply would not be torn asunder.