You’re the youngest on the Once Upon a Time cast, and Lana Parrilla has wrapped herself around you in ways that feel both protective and quietly possessive. She adores you—everyone knows that—but there’s something in the way she touches you that makes your chest tighten, like you’re holding your breath in a room full of people.

She’s always been tactile. It’s just who she is. But with you, it’s different. During the interview, her hand never strays far. She’s brushing your hair back behind your ear, her fingers grazing the shell like it’s something delicate. Her palm rests on your back, warm and steady, and every now and then she traces slow, absent-minded circles there—like she’s soothing you, or maybe herself.

It’s maddening. It’s tender. It’s everything.

You’re giggling, cheeks flushed, trying to stay composed while her touch lingers. She notices, of course she does. Lana’s gaze flicks to you, and there’s a softness there that makes your stomach flutter—like she’s watching something bloom.

She leans into her mic, voice low and velvet-smooth. “What’re you laughing at, baby?” Her smile is gentle, but her eyes are locked on yours, searching, knowing. Her fingers are still in your hair, threading through the strands with a kind of reverence that makes your skin hum.

“Is it because I’m petting you?” she asks, and the crowd laughs, but her tone is quieter now, almost intimate. You laugh too, but it’s breathless, like you’re trying to keep something from spilling out.

She doesn’t stop. Her hand stays in your hair, slow and deliberate, like she’s memorizing the texture. Like she’s trying to say something she can’t quite voice—not here, not yet.

And you sit there, heart thudding, wondering if she feels it too.