A KIND OF MAGIC ↝ Killian Jones

⇒ CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ALTHOUGH HEARING THAT Snow White had actually taken part in a murder was rather shocking and shook Wilma to her core, her initial reaction was a kick of sympathy and the need to rush over to Snow and Charming's apartment and hear the full story. On top of that, Wilhelmina also acknowledged the excessive need for some comforting hugs, but her first priority was to figure out what the hell had happened, why and how, and the hunger for full disclosure was what pushed Wilma's foot on the gas pedal of her ride as she sped to the apartment building. A part of her felt guilty for leaving her friends in Gold's shop, but admittedly, a part of her felt relieved, because God only knew what kind of a mess she could have ended up in — such dire situations called for extreme measures, which Wilma believed to be the reason behind whatever Mary Margaret had ended up doing.

  Wilma had seen lots of upsetting stuff during the twenty-six years she had lived for, but there was something absurdly eerie and haunting about the way Snow was paralyzed on the bed, unwilling to move or eat or drink or talk — she merely hid there with no intentions to come out and face the world again, with evident shame and regret all over her face and lingering in the thick air as well, and the sight sent shivers down Wilhelmina's spine as she arrived and directed a worried look to Snow's direction. So far, she had only witnessed a hopeful woman, with positivity and optimism, giving out only kindness and happiness, but now, she was broken. Her heart was darkened, and she no longer felt good. That was what caused Wilma to frown and feel her own heart sinking at the terrible sight, that despite being so silent and simple, yelled so much pain in so many ways and forms.

  "What happened?", Wilma whispered, sighing deeply as she leaned against the counter in the kitchen and looked over to David, who shared the sympathy shining bright and clear in her brown, warm eyes. To be honest, she was still struggling with believing what she had heard over the phone, and perhaps a tiny bit of her was living in denial and the hope that it was just a misunderstanding and the case wasn't that serious after all. But David wasted no time in crushing that hope trying to ignite in Wilma.

  "Cora has caused so much pain for Snow. And others, too. So when given the chance, Snow broke under pressure and gave in to the temptation of revenge. She, well, kind of killed Cora", David sighed, meeting Wilma's eyes as the woman gave him a stern, disapproving look.

  "Charming, now is not the time for kind ofs", she pointed out, before shooting Snow another sorrowful look, just wishing that the former princess would be alright as soon as possible. But she couldn't even try and understand what she was going through — what was in her mind, what kind of weight pushed on her heart and tried to let some more darkness in. Wilma had seen that kind of regret and misery before, that sparkle of hope slowly draining from a person's eyes, and she hated to see the same within Snow's — she hated to know she was struggling like that.

  And once Wilma reminded herself of how the look of hopelessness was familiar to her, too familiar, she gulped and looked down at the bag she was still holding onto.

  "Going somewhere?", David questioned then, nodding towards Wilma's bag, and with a small, dry chuckle slipping from between her lips, she forced a nod whilst her eyes wandered from her tight grip to Charming's attentive expression.

  "Just a little trip. I'll be back soon", Wilma smiled, and with that, she leaned in for a hug, which David accepted gladly. His muscular arms wrapped tightly around Wilhelmina, and for a second, she found herself surrounded by utter comfort, his manly scent overwhelming her senses and his soft flannel encouraging her to close her eyes and lean in just a bit more. "Try not to miss me too much", she eventually broke the silence in the apartment, chuckling against David's firm chest, and the man did the same as he slowly, but reluctantly, let go of Wilhelmina.