| time's up | ||
◥ |
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youwouldvebeenenough-deactivate |
Up until that very moment, Neal’s life had been relatively easy-going, at least as of late. Ever since the curse had swept them away from Storybrooke and back to the Enchanted Forest, he had gradually accepted his origin. Funny, really, that it should take a tragic turn of events for him to let go of the past. But even more ironic was the fact that, just as everything had settled down, he should meet with the very cause of his untimely demise.
He hadn’t even done anything worth noting that day, but a walk through the forest when the weather was nice was part of his daily routine. And it just so happened that the moment he set foot on forest soil, the numbers on his wrist started counting down. Because nothing felt different just yet, he completely missed the fact that the numbers whizzed across that particular spot on his wrist faster and faster—until the rustling of leaves gave a grim introduction for the woman who then stepped out into the clearing.
And then it clicked. The moment he locked gaze with her, the counter hit zero, and his breath hitched in his throat.
“No, that’s not—we ain’t gonna do that.”
And just like that, all plans that he had previously pushed aside to tend to at a later date clicked back into place. First priority? Get the hell out of dodge.
“You get the hell away from me, and /stay/ away.”