Regina glanced down at her hand, slowly unfurling the tightly clutched fist. The skin was blistered, evidence of how hot the water had to be for how quickly she’d pulled it out. She found herself transfixed by it, barely moved by the pain, but sickly fascinated with the way it turned red and angry. The last time she’d been injured to her memory was when she’d fallen from Rocinante, leaving a scar cutting through her upper lip. There was something about it she couldn’t put name to. Something wrong that felt almost right. A breath stilled in her chest as her pulse beat loudly in her ears, all the while her gaze fixated upon her hnad.
Her reverie was shattered when the dull echoing sounds of Maleficent’s voice rang back into clarity at the brush of fingers against her hand. Looking up at her, Regina hissed as she pulled her hand back into a fist on instinct. “I —- will be fine,” she tried to reassure her with a smile, one that shone brightly on her lips but didn’t quite reach her eyes. Clearing her throat, hoping to not need make a fuss over her own foolish mistake, Regina nodded toward the water which steamed enough now to give her ample warning not to touch. Funny then how she hadn’t quite seen it before.
“Is it —- because of the dragon’s fire?” She asked, her unaffected hand gripping the burnt one in a subtle move, applying pressure to dull the pain. “Is that why you don’t burn?”
It was curious the way the girl stared at her burn like it were something captivating. It was a morbid fascination she knew well too, as she’d stared and pricked at her own blistered hand just days ago. But somehow she didn’t much care for seeing it within her friend too. She frowned when she pulled away, her hand sinking back in the water, just perceptibly more aware of the heat.
“Yes dear it is, and if I’d known you were going to do that I would have stopped you,” she said in some sort of defense of herself, not finding the guilt that rose in her throat to be all that enjoyable. Normally causing harm and terror brought nothing but a wicked sort of joy to her, but now it tasted bitter, unsettling, to think she’d hurt this girl. Even when in reality she’d done nothing of the kind. Her expression eased somewhat, as she remembered herself, her power, and the book that Regina carried with her nearly everywhere she went.
“If you’ll bring my book in here I can heal that for you,” she told her in what was probably her most compassionate tone. One so unused it sounded almost brittle on her tongue. “I haven’t done a healing spell in…a very long time, but I’m sure I can see that fixed for you.” She finished with a small smile, her eyes clearly reflecting a bizarre sort of gentleness behind their icy blue veil.