Regina was a reserved kind of person. The type to keep herself to herself, and to keep everyone else an arm's distance away. The world had taught her not to trust others, not even her own family. Trust was vulnerability. And Regina couldn't leave herself open to pain again.

So that meant that even with those she appeared close with, Regina still never really let anyone too close to her heart. The fear of disappointment lingered near, keeping a lock on her heart and walls built around it to protect it. Even the people she saw on a day-to-day basis weren't allowed in. People like you.

Being close to Regina, you could almost always tell when something was bothering her. She hated it, but it was true. For instance, when she came into Granny's that morning to get her usual coffee and didn't even so much as greet you, you knew something was wrong. When you approached and asked about it, you only got averted eyes, and a hasty "I'm fine." in a distant tone. But you knew that was a lie.

In an attempt to comfort Regina, you reached a hand out and rested on her arm. The Mayor flinched at the touch, inhaling sharply and pulling away. She looked up at you, annoyance smothering a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. She wasn't about to sit there and admit how your touch affected her, or how, as much as she'd pulled away from it, some small part of her longed to feel it. After a few moments of just staring at you, Regina repeated that she was fine, and returned her glare to the coffee cup in front of her, leaving you stood awkwardly beside her.