This is Mary Margaret like she's never seen, barely paying attention to anything around her, expression alternately lighting up and turning bewildered, grasping at words like they're going to give her some kind of stepping stone.
They don't, but that sure doesn't seem to be slowing her down.
It's that combination, though: the mix of trying so hard to be strong and how do I stop it and, finally, as Emma swivels again, trying in vain to keep up with her pacing roommate, what would you do?
There's a half a second where she feels an actual tug at her heart, making her frown, because Mary Margaret thinks that she's going to tell her to shut him down, to shut him out, because she's been saying being strong means staying away.
But that's not what it means at all, especially not for Mary Margaret, who's fluttering around like a leaf being blown every which way and who deserves love and happiness so completely. Emma might not know much about the right thing to do in any situation, but she knows what she'd do in Mary Margaret's place, and it's sure as hell not turning him down.
If someone picked her? Actually stood there and told her they wanted her, chose her, with all of the trouble that would come along with it?
The answer is all too easy.
"I'd go," she says, with deliberate emphasis, as Mary Margaret, eyes round with surprise, stops dead in her tracks.
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This is Mary Margaret like she's never seen, barely paying attention to anything around her, expression alternately lighting up and turning bewildered, grasping at words like they're going to give her some kind of stepping stone.
They don't, but that sure doesn't seem to be slowing her down.
It's that combination, though: the mix of trying so hard to be strong and how do I stop it and, finally, as Emma swivels again, trying in vain to keep up with her pacing roommate, what would you do?
There's a half a second where she feels an actual tug at her heart, making her frown, because Mary Margaret thinks that she's going to tell her to shut him down, to shut him out, because she's been saying being strong means staying away.
But that's not what it means at all, especially not for Mary Margaret, who's fluttering around like a leaf being blown every which way and who deserves love and happiness so completely. Emma might not know much about the right thing to do in any situation, but she knows what she'd do in Mary Margaret's place, and it's sure as hell not turning him down.
If someone picked her? Actually stood there and told her they wanted her, chose her, with all of the trouble that would come along with it?
The answer is all too easy.
"I'd go," she says, with deliberate emphasis, as Mary Margaret, eyes round with surprise, stops dead in her tracks.
Finally.