middle of nowhere. [tag; honey]

well maybe I'm a little bit slow or just consistently inconsistent
she said "unpredictability's my responsibility, baby."

A cookery class.

It was his birthday two weeks ago and his friends had clubbed together and bought him a voucher. It was very sweet, actually. Will wasn't really one for going out and getting blind drunk. He liked Quidditch but not enough to warrant someone buying him a jersey. He didn't drink enough to justify buying an entire bottle of whiskey. His one true love was books but his friends didn't bother. Why? Because he had sixteen bookshelves and every single one of them were bursting at the seams.

That aside, Will was actually pretty excited. Maybe it was meant as a "jokey" gift but he was thrilled.

His tall frame jogged down a rain soaked London street, the street lamps flickering to life to try and ward off the gloom of the early February nights. It was a rather dull one. The world seemed a bit dull in the post festive crash but now everything was pink and red and glittery. In the past, Will's girlfriends had been apoplectic with rage as he'd forgotten Valentine's Day. It was a non-entity. He was busy reading.

Will held his jacket up and over his head as a shield from the steady drizzle, splashing in puddles as he went. The class was due to start at seven and it was ten minutes to now.

Will was a pretty decent baker. Not great but not terrible. It stemmed from a long time of him trying to cheer his little sister up when she was crying. Cupcakes, pies, ice creams, the lot. He was very much suited to pastry. If he wasn't obsessed with helping young writers, he could be making a fortune selling tiny, overpriced delicacies.

The writer burst through the door, pink cheeked and out of breath as he struggled out of his damp coat. "Hi," he said with a dimpled grin to the older woman, clad in an apron, whom he assumed was running the show. Slicking back his damp hair, he swiftly rolled back the sleeves of his pale blue button down shirt to his elbows and slipped a black apron around his neck as he stepped into the room.

There were eight other people there and he presumed they were all coupled up. It was almost Valentine's Day. Will imagined they were probably prepping for a romantic night in. The room was sparkling, with splashes of chrome and silver. There was a large kitchen island in the middle of the kitchen, much larger than for just eight people. There were spoon-dimpled brass pans hanging from hooks in the beams, the lights bright but cheery.

Will didn't feel particularly put out by being the ninth person. He frequently did things by himself. He did the grocery shopping by himself, he saw those arty French films in the Muggle cinema by himself and he often went for walks alone. He didn't think there was anything wrong with being single but it wasn't like he wasn't trying. It seemed like London just wasn't looking for love and that was okay, too.

Apparently, they were making a Valentine's Day themed dessert trio; macarons, chocolate truffles and a Persian love cake. A ripple of excitement filtered through the small crowd and Will's stomach dropped. He'd never heard of a Persian love cake and he was always a bit shit at making meringues.

In his panic, he hadn't noticed the tenth person enter the room. His big brown eyes were studiously reading the recipe and all thoughts of having fun slowly trickled out of him like a leaking roof. Only when he caught a faint whiff of vanilla did he look up and see the late entry. "Oh sorry," he mumbled, flushing pink as he hastily moved all of his belongings off her work space as he vehemently tried to fight the fact that he thought she had hair like a Titian painting. He offered her a smile, reaching out a hand for her to shake in an introduction. At the same time,  he'd accidentally knocked his punnet of eggs off the table, followed by a bowl of sugar. "Oh shi-- sugar," he corrected himself, the powdery substance sticking to his damp shirt. "Literally."


@Honey Bea Flume

The second week of February was progressing just as slowly as the first week had; Hogsmeade was quiet. So quiet. In a normal February, the villagers would be getting ready for the Valentine’s Day rush and Honey Bea would have more than enough to do to keep herself busy. But seeing as the dome was down and the students had been evacuated, Honey was fairly certain that the Valentine’s Day rush this year would be more akin to a Valentine’s Day trickle, which did not sound very appealing. She still had the fair share of mail orders, of course, but not too many were anything more than the standard box of Honeydukes chocolates that required next to no effort on Honey’s part to put together.

So, surely closing the shop ten minutes early didn’t really count as early. Not under the current circumstances anyway. She hadn’t had a customer all day and had spent the entire day in the kitchen, drinking cocoa and making toffees, with a small break to make some dark chocolate covered strawberries that she ate just as soon as the chocolate had hardened enough. Still, the shop remained open until ten minutes to seven. She had actual plans tonight, plans that she had made a week in advance, in any effort to get out of Hogsmeade and the unnerving vibe the village was giving off these days. If Honey had managed to check the time more often, she probably would have closed sooner to give herself the chance to cleanup and look somewhat presentable, but oh well.

Instead, Honey Bea stepped out onto the main street of Hogsmeade, the chilly Scottish air a drastic change from the warmth of her shop. She wasn’t planning to be outside long enough to get cold, however, and hadn’t bothered with a coat. The witch turned on the spot, apparating to the Leaky Cauldron for the second time that month. On her last visit, almost a week ago, Honey had come across a posting in a shop window for a cooking class, with the fine print stating there would be a focus on desserts. Honey Bea was very confident in her baking abilities, but she still never passed up the chance to pick up little tips from other bakers. It was a muggle class but that didn’t mean that inspiration for a new Honeydukes confection wouldn’t sneak up on her there.

Honey hurried out to the muggle side of the pub, quickly scolding herself for not bringing a coat. Of course on the one night it was a lovely clear night in Hogsmeade, it had to be drizzly and miserable in London. She was in too much of a rush to dash back inside the pub and waterproof herself magically and she was already swamped with too many muggles to do it on her way. So she made a run for it, only arriving at the class with about ten seconds to spare. Her hair, which had been thrown up in a bun to keep out of her way while she was at the shop, felt about two pounds too heavy with all the water it had collected. She ducked into the entryway of the class, letting her hair out of the bun and wringing the water from the ends before running her fingers through it a couple times to make herself as close to presentable as possible.

It wasn’t until she was done fussing with herself that she noticed the layout of the class, and more specifically, the other participants. Couples, couples, everywhere. As if she already didn’t already have enough to be worried about with the lack of business at her shop, now she would have to deal with a class full of lovebirds that would only remind her just how lonely her past few months had been. She huffed a little as she moved across the room to find an empty spot to bake in, managing to mutter a quick “Sorry,” to the instructor for her lateness. The least she could do tonight would be to outbake all the couples, and really, who was she trying to kid by pretending that wasn’t exactly what she was going to do?

“Erm,” she mumbled, trying not to interrupt the class any more than she already had. She had arrived at the empty spot, but the things of the next-door neighbor were spilling over into her space. She was about to excuse herself a little louder, thinking he hadn’t heard her the first time, when he finally noticed her and quickly moved to clear off her space. “No worries,” she said quickly, starting to feel bad for putting him out. After settling into her space, Honey got a much better look at the only other uncoupled occupant in the room. She was already studying his features, quite nice ones in fact, when he turned to offer her a smile. She returned the smile, raising her eyebrows as she did so. Just as she started reacting to his outstretched hand, he had succeeded in knocking a good portion of their ingredients to the floor.

Honey Bea had to resist the urge to pull her wand from her pocket in any attempt to save the eggs or sugar, and failing saving them, had to resist the urge to use magic to clean them up. Although, if she had to use muggle means to clean things up, she would definitely be willing to lend her partner a helping hand to clean himself up. All she could offer was an “Oops,” and a laugh, noticing that her once-clean sweater had been sugared as well, which was nothing new for her. "It just makes us look like serious bakers now,” Honey offered, still smiling. And oh, thank goodness for waterproof mascara. At least she knew that much looked good still, despite all the rain.

What were they supposed to do with the mess? Her boots were miraculously egg-free, but the same couldn’t be said for the floor. The sugar had just managed to fall in all the egg goop, so that wouldn’t be easy to pick up either, without also using magic. “Think we could just throw a towel over it and pretend it didn’t happen?” She hoped that’s what they could do, as she really did want to get to baking. “I’m Honey, by the way,” she added, finally stretching out her hand for his, “and I think you’ll owe me a new sweater after this.”

Will could have died. Honestly. He stood, eyes wide, covered in sugar, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He winced, mentally kicking himself as he felt his heart drop to rest somewhere in his stomach.

The commotion had made the fellow bakers turn and stare at him. The woman in charge glared at him. She wore a bright pink apron with the name "Annie" embroidered on it. Will flushed a deep pink and gave an uneasy laugh. "Sorry. Butter fingers," he joked weakly, cringing with every excruciatingly slow second that ticked by. 

Turning to face the newcomer, he was thankful that she didn't seem to be as mad as Annie was. He let out another laugh, this one considerably less forced. "Hopefully it'll fool someone," he said lightly. Hastily, Will dropped to his knees. Swiftly, he grabbed some tea towels and napkins and quickly set about cleaning the mess. It was kind of gross. The eggs were slippery and slimy, the sugar making the floor faintly hazardous.

Will didn't think for one second to ask the woman to help, nor did he assume that she would. It was a good few minutes before he'd managed to clean the spillage as he dumped the cloths into a nearest bin, steadfastly avoiding the eye of the instructor and his fellow classmates. Talk about a frosty reception.

The writer's blush deepened considerably, spreading from the tips of his ears and all the way down his neck as he winced again, crying internally as he saw the state of her previously lovely jumper. "And I'm so sorry," he said with wide eyes as he extended his hand, his  much larger one enveloping hers easily. "I'm Will," he said eventually, giving her hand a squeeze. Honey? Her name made him smile and he didn't know why. With a name like that, she must be a natural.

"Absolutely. Of course," Will said briefly, unsure if Honey was joking or not. He'd happily buy her a new jumper. He was already thinking of the logistics. Should she pick one out and he paid for it? Should he give her the money instead? Should he pick one out and post it to her? Was it too forward to ask for her address? Duh. Of course it was.

Will instantly felt at ease. She didn't seem mad. A not-so-subtle cough caught his attention and he shifted awkwardly. "It feels like being back at school," he whispered to Honey out of the side of his mouth. He was one of those people who got giggly when they were stressed or troubled. He was liable to laugh at a funeral, purely because he had no idea how to act.

Maracons were first, apparently. The other couples set about, working in tandem. Will blinked. It felt as though people were closing ranks, making himself and Honey effectively outsiders. Well, that was nice of them. There wasn't any point showing off. He didn't know Honey at all but he imagined she was a thoroughly modern young woman. Plus, she was way out of his league. He didn't need to know anything about her to realise that he was punching away above his weight. Why bother?

There was also the matter of electrical appliances. He didn't really know how to use them. He chewed on his lower lip as he carefully sieved his ground almonds, his concentration clear on his handsome face as it creased. The last thing he wanted to was look absolutely cack-handed in a presence of a beautiful lady.

"Sorry," he said as he leaned in close, keeping his  voice soft as Annie went on about how to fold egg whites. As far as he was concerned, she was wrong. He knew through trial and error that dumping the sugar in one go wouldn't make the egg whites stiff and shiny. They'd collapse in the oven. "You've got a little --" he said, motioning to a little bit of sugar in her hair. He was too much of a gentleman to touch her.

"Have you ever made these before?" Will asked before carefully cracking and separating eggs. For such a large man, he had a gentle, careful touch. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted as he deposited his cracked egg shells on to a nearby plate. Then he picked up his whisk and looked mildly confused by it.

Honey Bea could feel her cheeks grow warm as the rest of the class continued to look at the pair, even after her partner had ducked down to get to cleaning. So much for her “throw a towel over it” suggestion. Honey had spent two years at a muggle choclate and pastry school and living around muggles, but she had never made a mess of this caliber that she was also required to clean up without magic. Seeing the instructor wasn’t about to let up on her stink eye anytime soon, Honey shrugged towards her with her best puzzled look on her face, as if to indicate that it wasn’t her fault and she shouldn’t also be getting the naughty child treatment.

She chose instead to focus on the top of this master baker’s head as he knelt down to clean, his shoulders and upper arms catching her attention more than once. It definitely wasn’t a terrible thing that this wasn’t a quick cleanup and she surely wasn’t minding the view. Something about men that cleaned, right?

Her gaze flashed back to the front of the room as he stood up, but she couldn’t resist the urge, however, to let her eyes follow his backside as he walked away from her. “Will, I was just kidding. Shopping is more of a second date activity, anyway,” she smiled, returning the squeeze of his hand as the “big hands” cliché ran through her mind. She was about to add that it was her fault for not wearing her apron soon enough when they were both shushed by the instructor. Honey’s blush quickly matched Will’s as the instructor started her spiel about macarons and how vital every step of the process was but Honey was much more concerned about her partner’s cleanliness and overall wellbeing to pay too much attention to it.

Honey shifted her gaze down to the counter in front of her as she smiled, trying not to laugh at Will’s comment about school and cause another interruption. She tried to come up with something witty she could add about school, but she couldn’t think of anything that didn’t blatantly involve magic; she settled on smiling a little wider, her shoulders shaking a little with her suppressed laugh. Honey was neither surprised nor offended when everyone grouped up without the pair, starting on their meringues. She finally donned her apron and pulled two glass bowls and the eggs towards her. It didn’t take much thought on her part to separate the yolks from the whites, saving the yolks in the second, smaller bowl, thinking she could make a custard later if there was enough time.

“Hmm?” She had been focused on her eggs, but she definitely noticed once Will leaned in close to her. “Oh,” she said, clearly expecting something more exciting than letting her know she was a bit of a mess. “Would you mind?” she asked, holding out her hands so that he could see they were genuinely incapable of getting anything out of her hair at the moment. She had just finished fishing out an egg shell from her bowl of egg whites and had managed to get at least half an egg’s worth on her hands.

It was time for Honey Bea to make her most important decision: admit she knew what she was doing and that she had made macarons a countless number of times or try to fumble through everything with Will? While Honey never could let the opportunity to show off pass her by, the idea of wasting time actually reading recipes and putting some actual thought into making a meringue was tempting. “Once or twice,” she said quietly, mentally adding a week to the end of her sentence. She shrugged, looking down at the recipe. Her eyes glossed over the words on the page, more buying time than actually reading it.

“While I don’t think you lack the upper body strength to make your meringue by hand, I think we should use the mixer,” she nodded towards the large stand mixer set up to his left, all ready to go. She had fallen in love with these while at school and had heavily invested in a few of them (with a couple of slight adjustments so that they might run on magic rather than electricity) for her own kitchen. Even magicked whisks didn’t stand up to the stand mixer. The mixer was plugged in and already had the wire whisk attached to it, all they needed to do was add the egg whites and then slowly add the sugar. She wasn’t even sure if they had been told to move on to that step yet, as Honey Bea had stopped listening to the instructions a few minutes ago.

She was already regretting telling him about the mixer; it had just occurred to her that she probably would not have minded watching him make a meringue by hand, but it was too late to step back on that now. Thankfully, she had a different good idea to see her through. “And since you lost all your sugar, we’ll have to share,” she mused, pushing her bowl of sugar closer towards him with the back of her hand. Now she just needed to stay calm and not go into extreme-baker-mode.

"Oh," said Will, confusion clear on his handsome face. "Right! Of course. Ha," he laughed shortly, sounding confused. What is wrong with you? the voice in the back of his head screamed at him at such a high volume, it stunned him momentarily.

Now. Will was no stranger in the ways of the woman but his work took up all of his time, he had no time to find a nice girl. The only women he spent time with were rich, elderly housewives who were trying to convince him that they were the next big thing in the literary world. The phrase "second date" hung in the air like a thick fog and he made the split decision just to smile to acknowledge it. He made a snap choice, figuring this pretty redhead was just trying to settle his nerves. She wasn't really interested. Girls who looked like incredibly beautiful woodland nymphs most certainly did not date boys like him.

The fact that she was laughing took the edge off his anxiety. He didn't hear Honey laugh but he imagined it sounded lovely, like a peal of church bells on a summer's day. He needed to check himself before he wrecked himself.

The way that she was agreeing to let him touch her so casually made him blink and suddenly, he was very aware of where he was and what he was doing. Will was very aware of the furious gaze of the cookery instructor, the faint chatter of metal utensils being scraped but that all seemed rather irrelevant now, regardless. Stepping closer, he very gently caught the strand of vibrant red hair between his fingers and slid them down the length, deftly removing the remnants of the previous flour explosion. Seeing another fleck, he repeated the action with accuracy, only wobbling slightly as his fingers accidentally brushed the shell of her ear.

"There we go," he said swiftly, hoping to cover up any awkwardness that may ensue. "Good as new."

"Oh great," Will said as he exhaled with relief. There was now hope. If Honey knew the basics, his macarons might just be okay. Following her lead, he read the printed instructions and frowned. There was a lot of precise, science-based things going on. The temperature for the water, the measurements of ground almonds and sugar, the temperature of the oven. He paused, scratching his head. "It'd probably be cheaper to head to Paris and pick some up," he mumbled, looking up just in time to see Annie's fierce glare and he took a step back.

"Just figuring some things out," he called to her gaily and with a wave which only seemed to incense her further. "I really don't know what her issue is," he whispered to Honey, careful to keep his voice low. "Is she the immortal overlord of baked goods or something?" Maybe she was a baking Dementor, sucking all the joy out of cookery as she went on her less than merry way. He asked with a frown as he regarded her with a tilted head and then sighed. Maybe everyone needed a scapegoat. William Dasher often tended to provide that.

Suddenly, Will found himself ignoring Annie and the rest of the class and focusing instead on Honey. He tipped the egg whites into the bowl, pausing only to fish a little bit of shell out of the gloop and wipe it hastily on his jeans before his companion could see it. "Of course, piece of cake," he said, trying to sound casual. "Excuse the pun," he said with a snort as he poked at his mixer. It must look horribly strange to her, for him to be examining this thing so much before using it.

"Thanks," he said with a smile as she offered him her sugar. With trepidation, he placed the whisk end of the mixer into the egg whites. Around him, the class members were still measuring out the ingredients and grappling with piping bags. With his right hand, he measured out a level teaspoon of sugar and placed the mixer onto the "on" position.

With a squeak of surprise, Will flung the sugar into his eggs, dropping the spoon in order to fight with this electrical beast. It was so fast! "Honey, help," he whispered as the mixer vibrated, smacking against the glass bowl. Manoeuvring it as best he could, he moved his wrist, keeping it as steady as possible as the eggs were turning white before his very eyes.

"This is actually kind of cool," he mused as the machine whirred. Elsewhere, the other students had followed Annie's instructions and dumped the entire amount of sugar straight in. Panicking, Will looked over. Their egg whites weren't really whipping up like his were. Taking another spoonful of sugar, he slowly added it with care, watching the egg whites grow in considerable volume. He turned to look at Honey for approval, treating her as some sort of baking Buddha. Whether she wanted it or not, he'd placed her trust solely in her now.

"You should teach a class," Will said breezily and without thought. He wasn't often one to make assumptions but he reckoned Honey might be a bit of a dark horse. "I can be your best pupil," he said with a lingering smile that dimpled his left cheek.

Honey smiled as Will’s fingers found her hair, taking the opportunity of their exceptionally close proximity to study his face. There wasn’t one thing about it that she didn’t like, and so far, the rest of him was also living up to that expectation. He could definitely be a fun person to have around; he had already made her laugh and had helped her groom, there weren’t many more checkboxes to check off after that. It was just too bad that her usual method of taking potential lays home and giving them the exclusive tour of Honeydukes wasn’t going to work this time, unless she also wanted to do some illegal memory work on him as well. Oh bother.

“Good as new,” Honey repeated quietly, snapping out of her planning for their extracurricular activities. “Thanks,” she added before turning back to her raw meringue. It had been a while since she had made macarons the muggle way, and Honey was starting to realize why she didn’t do it more often. It was much too tedious. Just how much trouble would she actually get in if she magicked these pastries into being? Even using magic to bake still required skill, and she was more than certain that she could outbake anyone in this room, Her Majesty Queen Annie included.

But she was the one who had signed up for a muggle cooking class, even though there were magic opportunities available. She would just have to suck it up; she could magic up a quick batch of pumpkin pasties when she got home to calm her nerves from the lack of magic. Honey looked up from her egg whites as Will mused about going to Paris, only to get caught in another one of Annie’s glares. She quickly looked back down, staring into her bowl of egg goop. Honey coughed, trying to catch her laugh in her throat before Annie could hear it, as Will continued, offering up the theory about Annie being the immortal overlord of baked goods.

They only had one mixer between the two of them, so Honey had nothing left to do besides watch her partner fiddle around with it, adding his eggs and measuring out a small spoon of sugar. Honey peered down at her recipe as Will turned the machine on; it pretty clearly said to add the sugar all at once to the egg whites. How did he know the correct way to go about adding the sugar, one spoonful at a time? Honey barely had time to smirk at the thought that he knew more about what he was doing than he was letting on before he was asking for her help. Maybe her assessment was a little too quick.

“That’s what it’s supposed to do, Will,” Honey said calmly, reaching over and turning the speed notch on the machine up one more step. She lingered there for a few seconds, enjoying having a reason to be slightly closer, before dropping her hand back with a “It looks good.” She started pulling ingredients towards her, not fully enjoying Annie’s plan for a basic buttercream filling. Honey was definitely more in the mood for a dark chocolate lavender ganache filling, if she was being completely honest. But as they didn’t have any lavender in front of them, she would just have to settle for the chocolate part of the ganache.

Honey considered telling Will that she had hosted a couple of classes before, on weekends when Hogwarts hadn’t been quite so gloomy, but that was neither here nor there. The important part of Will’s statement was the last part about being her best pupil. “That’s really too bad, because I was hoping you would need some sort of extra credit assignment,” Honey replied quickly and quietly, grinning as she looked up from the ingredients before her. She wanted nothing more than to kiss the dimple that appeared on his cheek, but she would have to save that for later. Something told her that Annie wouldn’t be too appreciative of that.

She cleared her throat, offering up a “You need some sugar,” lingering just a few seconds before pointing towards the mixer, indicating that the egg whites were the ones in need of the sugar, and not Will, as Honey was hoping she was implying.

There were times like these that he wished he had a game plan.

Will had friends who predominantly went out to hunt for girls. Bars, pubs and weddings, they had a plan for each. He had to admit that he was uncomfortable with the idea but he also had to admit that it worked like a charm. Had he perhaps lied to women, he wouldn't be staring at Honey so intently. Thankfully, his mother had raised him correctly.

He felt drawn to her but it wasn't just because she was beautiful; he found her easy to be around. So far, his only gaffe had been to knock over the eggs and get flour in her hair. She was just so vibrant with her red hair and her seemingly naughty sense of humour and Will was rather enamoured.

He was happy to follow her lead as she adjusted the mixer, rather happy to pretend that Queen Annie didn't exist and it was frightfully easy to do so. Sensing that Honey was busy, the writer took a chance to grab a sneak peek at her when she wasn't looking and he found himself smiling. Late and damp, Will wasn't really in the mood when he'd arrived but Honey had so easily turned things around. He was also a pragmatic man; she was way out of his league.

He was rather content to absently whip the egg whites, carefully and slowly. He was folding the mixture, careful not to knock the air out of the egg whites and tell-tale tips and tricks like this would be sure to get him found out.

Unable to help himself, he snorted with laughter at her flirty remark. Internally, he was screaming but he turned his laugh into a hacking cough. Looking up to see Annie glaring at him, he shrugged. "Inhaled some icing sugar, sorry," he said with a sympathetic smile before turning his attention back to Honey. "I probably do," he said smoothly as he gently turned his glass bowl around. "These could turn out to be an absolute shocker and then I would need some extra after hours assistance."

It shocked him at how easy these thinly veiled innuendoes were slipping out of his mouth. William was a notoriously uptight man. He liked rules and regulations and routine and he had a feeling that a girl like Honey might blow them wide open. In actual fact, he needed someone like her in his life, someone fun, someone gentle, someone willing to make him laugh.

"No I don't," the taller man was quick to say, his dark eyes wide in mock surprise. He didn't say anything further for that moment as his gaze lingered on her. He wanted to say something corny like I'm sweet enough already or something about how Honey was all the sugar he needed but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It'd be rather cringe worthy and it'd make his skin crawl but more than that, it'd be inappropriate. He was sort of hoping that she might just be able to read his mind because when he came to try and be suave, the shit tended to hit the fan.

"I was going to say you were sweet enough," he admitted as he pulled a vaguely horrified expression before shaking his head. "But then I realised it was rude," he paused. "And now I wish you didn't know anything about that." Internally, he cringed and physically, he winced. He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling before clenching his eyes shut as he mentally screamed at himself. If he was at home, he would have slapped himself but he was in pleasant company. And that'd be weird. At that moment, he'd prefer if Annie stabbed him with a cake tester skewer.

Hastily, he added some sugar before offering the bowl back to her. The egg whites were whipped into stiff peaks and he was satisfied before he picked up the food colouring. He knew macarons were airy, delicate little things. Soft and chewy and pastel coloured in soft, pastel boxes tied with white ribbon. He had purple food colouring and he was aiming for a gentle lilac shade. He knew to dip a toothpick into the colouring and drag it through the mixture for a paler colour. He knew that so when he opened up the small bottle, he sneezed and a large drop of the colouring ended up in the egg whites which turned a rather lurid shade of purple.

"Fuck," Will swore softly before he gave a resigned sigh. "This'd be so much easier if I had my wand," he muttered under his breath, forgetting where he was and who he was with.

"Probably hours and hours of intense work, really," Honey replied, continuing her smirk. They could spend those hours in her kitchen, but if Honey had her way, absolutely none of that time would be spent baking. Deciding that the ganache, and honestly everything else they were working on, could wait until the last minute, Honey continued focusing on Will. She was mentally congratulating herself for signing up for this class on a lark, and even more so for actually remembering about it and showing up. But she definitely needed that second chance to actually try to look presentable, have dry hair, wear lipstick.

Honey mimicked Will in his surprise at her comment, stifling a giggle. She just shrugged, still indicating towards the mixer but staring fixedly on his face, his dimple, his lips. Shrugging again as the conversation had come to a sort of standstill, Honey looked back down towards her work. Maybe the baking innuendos were a bit too much for him; she could take it down a notch for the next one.

She smiled before she looked up at him, not a grin or a smirk, but a genuine smile, only to be met by a completely opposite reaction on Will's face. Honey opened her mouth, poised to say something, anything at all to reassure him that she definitely didn't mind compliments or come ons. "I mean, you aren't wrong. I'm some sort of taste combination between vanilla and cinnamon, I like to think." Her smile evolved to a smirk then, even as he kept staring up at the ceiling. She reached up to squeeze his upper arm reassuringly, only leaving the faintest sugary handprint behind.

Chuckling quietly, Honey took back the bowl of sugar, contemplating her next move. She might as well just go for the bum squeeze as it seemed like he needed some direct communication such as that to really get a clear picture of things. But her plan of action was interrupted with Will's next glorious move.

"Ooooh," Honey let out a low sound, a combination of shock, embarrassment, and laughter, as Will sneezed, cursed, and simultaneously ruined their meringue. She was fairly certain that he would have no problem whipping up another one, if only he hadn't already wasted the other half of their egg supply at the start of the class. She was about to suggest carrying on with the meringue as-is, as it seemed like Annie hadn't noticed and she would be the one taste testing their macarons to see how they had fared in the class. Honey Bea was no stranger to sweets used as props in practical jokes.

But as she was leaning in to suggest feeding their instructor his bogeys, she heard the distinct "easier if I had my wand" that Will uttered. As someone who had spent two years in a muggle school, learning chocolates and pastries without magic, Honey was very familiar with that exact sentence and had felt the exact same way countless times. Thankfully, at Honeydukes she never had this problem. But if he was a wizard, surely he had gone to Hogwarts, and Honey still hadn't been able to place his face as someone she knew from school. And thankfully, she also couldn't place him as someone who was in school since she had taken over the ownership of Honeydukes, so that was quite the relief.

In case she had misheard him or had selectively heard only what she wanted to hear, Honey wasn't about to inquire further. Instead, she tried to continue the conversation as nonchalantly as possible. "Seriously, electricity is great for all of this but magic is so much more refined. Plus I wouldn't mind hiding an exploding bonbon in one of these macarons for Annie." She pulled the glass bowl of meringue towards her in an effort to scoop of the darkest purple bits. If he had no idea what she was on about, maybe she could just pass it off as a joke, as she really hated to count this evening as a loss because Will was what she was planning to have for dessert after they got all these cookies and cakes out of the way. And if she was correct in what she heard and he knew what she was talking about as well, then all the better. Her original plan of taking him home with her was back on the table.

And on the table was definitely one option they could explore later.

If his mother was present, she'd slap him. William had been raised to be courteous and polite and if his mother even heard the thinly veiled sexy talk, he'd be in deep shit. He couldn't quite believe that Honey was indulging him. He'd never been able to outright say that he fancied someone. He did this weird sort of waggle-dance; steadfastly skirting around the subject at hand whilst conveying his thoughts to the lady telepathically. It currently had a nought percent success rate.

Internally, he was dying. The physically pain was actually making him wince as he wished the floor to open and swallow him whole. Actually, being set alight would be better than this unbearable torture. Will promptly choked on his own saliva as she carried on. Vanilla and cinnamon? "So you're basically an adorable Christmas cookie?" He asked, still not looking at her, even when she squeezed his arm gently.

"I'm really sorry," he blabbed to Honey swiftly, a look of horror creasing his handsome face as he saw the gross purple blobs. In one fell swoop, he'd ballsed up his meringue mixture and made a tit out himself in front of the prettiest girl in London. He followed her lead, his long fingers trying to dish out bits of the heavily pigmented colouring but only succeeded in dyeing his index finger a rather vulgar shade of aubergine.

"Wait, what?"

Will stared at Honey like she'd grown a second head. His chestnut coloured eyes doubled in size as she serenely went about her business of rectifying his mess. He was stunned and it showed. The distant whirr of mixers, the clank of pans and hushed chatter sounded more like white noise as he blinked at her. Miss Honey was constantly surprising him. He was dimly aware of Queen Annie barking orders but neither were listening.

Swiftly, he cracked a grin. "I love exploding bonbons," he gushed, his eyes alight. Will was staring at Honey as though she was some sort of shimmering goddess who had stepped off a cloud and straight into this shitty cookery class. "I'm quite fond of the coconut ice myself," he added casually. "And the treacle fudge," he added with a nod. "I have no idea who makes the stuff but they're incredible. I'd like to buy them a pint," Will commented before he remembered his manners. "Or a glass of wine if they prefer, I'm not one to judge."

Will found himself grinning and he wasn't sure why. Maybe because he was finally having a good time for a change. He leaned into Honey just a little and lowered his voice. "Do you think we should cheat?" He asked softly. Under normal circumstances, the mere thought would turn his stomach but this wasn't an ordinary night. This had been turned upside down and shaken. He was keen for the ride.

"Not too badly," he added, the warmth clinging to her jumper was both comforting and exciting. What a strange mix. True to Honey's word, she did genuinely smell like vanilla and cinnamon. Goodness. Was it hot in here?

"Just enough for Annie to choke on her words," he added with a bright smile. William wouldn't dare think about cheating without being backed up or goaded. He was a fair kind of bloke, a genuinely nice one but there was something about Honey that might just tickle the very dark parts of him. The ones that were good fun but came with dire consequences. Parts of him he hadn't been in touch with since he was a teenager. He looked at her with another dimpled smile. She only needed to give him the go ahead and he'd blow these suckers out of the water.

Thank Merlin, she wasn't wrong. Honey Bea returned her partner's grin as he started going off about the different things that he liked, and they all just so happened to be things that Honey owned. And she had premium access to them, especially considering that Honeydukes' treacle fudge recipe was a closely guarded secret. She had no shortage of exploding bonbons or coconut ice, either.

"I'm fairly certain that whoever makes the treacle fudge likes chocolate liqueur more than wine, really," Honey said quickly. She really was a cliche candy shop owner. Vegetables hardly ever passed her lips and she found ways to incorporate chocolate into every facet of her life so it was no surprise that she preferred chocolate-flavored alcohol over everything else. "I did have a chocolate stout once though that was really good so that might be acceptable as well," she added as an afterthought. Was she going to need to flat out tell him that she owned Honeydukes? That would be quite the fun surprise to hold on to if he couldn't work it out yet.

Honey smiled and sighed at Will's suggestion to cheat. "Ugh, yes please." He already looked perfect, and now the rest of him was starting to live up to the perfect expectations that Honey had set for him. She had never used magic in pastry school when there was a grade involved, but this class was far from professional. "She kind of deserves it, really," she agreed, realizing too late that she was getting too excited and loud for Annie's pleasure.

She waved off the instructor and her rebuking, not taking her eyes off of Will. This was becoming the beginning of a beautiful friendship, no doubt about it. She raised an eyebrow as Will drew a line that they should stop short of actually harming Annie, and Honey had to reluctantly agree. She had grown up playing pranks on her brother and a good percentage of them involved Honeydukes merchandise. But, their parents had also always been present and had been able to undo whatever harm they had caused to each other.

Unfortunately, most of her ideas were borderline illegal if there were muggles involved. "I probably actually have some exploding bonbons in my bag, but unless you're really great with obliviating and don't really have a moral compass, we should probably figure something else out." Honey scrunched up her brow, trying her best to think of something they could do. "I guess we could start with fixing the meringue the easy way? You do that and I'll see what else I have in my bag."

She bent down to fetch her bag from the floor, lingering in the bent-over position for maybe three seconds longer than she really needed just in case Will wanted to enjoy the view. She cleared the counter as she straightened up, set her bag down in front of her, and sipped her arm in to fish around for something to help them. Honey started pulling things out one after the other: toffees, bonbons both regular and exploding, ice mice, jelly slugs, a chocolate frog, as well as an assortment of individually wrapped candies and chocolates. She didn't stop to consider what this must look like; she had never not had an overabundance of sweets on her person, but to the untrained eye it might be a little weird.

But none of this was giving her the spark of pranking creativity she needed. "I think we'll just have to have really, really, really good macarons and that'll have to be enough," she said with a shrug, looking up to gauge Will's reaction.

Maybe they could just make these really good macarons really quickly and then get out of here. He had promised her a drink and a new sweater, after all.

"Well that makes sense," Will said with a thoughtful frown as he nodded. A sweet shop owner liking a sweet drink. He wasn't really one for liqueurs but he did make a mean hot chocolate. The secret ingredient was just a little dash of nutmeg to bring out the chocolate flavour and make it a little bit less sickly. As well as lashings of whipped cream. And the occasional marshmallow.

"Wait, what?"

Will turned his head, his big brown eyes wide as he stared openly at Honey. It was like a double whammy of secret revelations. First she was a witch and now she…owned Honeydukes? Unreal. This girl was absolutely unreal. Not only was she hilarious with a dirty mind, she was single-handedly the best thing to ever happen to him this entire year so far. Speechless, he boggled at her for a second or two before he broke into a wide grin. "Amazing," he said with a shake of his head and a dreamy expression on his facial features.

He snorted and quickly turned it into a hacking cough as he felt the combined force of Annie's eyes boring into the back of his head like laser beams. Honey was amazing and he was staring at her like a puppy dog. In that moment, if she asked him to jump into a volcano, he would have been more than happy to do so. He was completely and utterly star struck. And perhaps a tiny bit aroused.

"Unfortunately, my morals do get in the way," he said with a sympathetic smile. He nodded at Honey's suggestion. Whistling under his breath and making sure no one was looking, he wiggled his fingers over the messy egg whites. Within seconds, the goopy, horribly purple mixture had vanished and replaced by smooth, glossy peaks. Taking a quick peek at his neighbour's bowl, he was pleased to see theirs were rather flat and a little bit grainy. So much for Annie's all-in-one method.

Will felt himself blush as Honey bent over. Hastily, he averted his eyes because he was a gentleman but they couldn't help but stray back, just in time to see her remove everything plus the kitchen sink from her bag. He watched her with a mixture of confusion and wonderment. He could honestly say that he'd never, ever, met anyone quite like her. He was confounded and mesmerised and actually unsure of himself. They weren't anything alike but wasn't that what made things so interesting?

Oh right. Macarons.

"Absolutely," he said with a nod, trying to reorganise his thoughts. For some reason, all he could think of now was Honey in a grass skirt in Hawaii. He didn't know how or why but he image was sharp in his mind. Wishful thinking? Probably. He wasn't really that keen on putting himself out there. Asking a girl like Honey out for a drink was a daunting task. He'd honesty prefer that she turn him down rather than accepting his offer out of pity. That'd suck.

It seemed rather pointless now to be trying to impress someone who made the world's best sweets daily but Will was never one to say die. Adding a few drops of the food colouring to turn the mixture a rather Parisian lilac, he loaded up a piping bag and twisted it expertly around his thumb. With ease, he piped small, even circles on the baking paper without the need for a template, using his right hand to direct and his left to apply pressure. With any luck, his piping expertise might make up for his lack of personality.

Into the oven they went with care, taking a few minutes to try and figure out how to use the electronic timer before he realised it might be easier just to count. When Honey met his eye, he blushed again and offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry," he said softly. "I can sort of bake some things," he said casually. With a little jiggery-pokery, the macarons were ready swiftly. Will bent and squinted through the glass before opening the door and removing the tray of perfectly crisp and dainty pastries. "How good is your aim?" Will asked serenely as  he gently plucked the discs off the baking sheet, insinuating they might just lob them at Annie's head.

Honey smirked, raising her eyebrows twice in quick succession as the realization about her day job hit him. It seemed to her that it shouldn't be that difficult to get him to come home with her, after all. That was good news for Honey, and even better news for Will. Her smirk widened into a grin as he shook his head with a rather adorable look on his face.

She mouthed the word "Oops," to Will as he laughcoughed. They were definitely not going to be asked back to this class after all the disruptions they were causing, not that Honey Bea would be lining up to learn anything from Annie anyway. She turned towards the front and raised her hands in mock surrender in front her, mouthing "Sorry," in Annie's general direction. But her hands retreated quickly and her attentions were once again focused on Will, rolling her eyes at Annie along the way.

"That really is unfortunate," she said with a stifled laugh, "however, mine definitely do not." Whatever little morals she did have, they had already walked out the door the moment Annie first coughed to call them out on their behavior. But still, the candy maker was not exactly an expert Obliviator, so she would just have to save that naughty behavior for later. Perhaps channel that energy into something a little more enjoyable. Like Will.

Watching a man know how to handle a piping bag, on top of knowing how to make a meringue, on top of also being insanely attractive... Honey was in a baker's sexual paradise. She didn't even mind that he knew more than he had earlier let on. The only thing that could make this show any more enjoyable for her would be for him to wear nothing but the apron, but she was fairly certain that Annie would disapprove as that as well. Just one more reason to get him back to Hogsmeade, really.

She slowly put the contents of her bag back where they came from, being careful to not take her eyes off of Will for too long. She busied herself with this and that, wiping the counter absentmindedly as he finished everything, and her enjoyment of the whole situation only increased when he fiddled with the timer and she couldn't bring herself to setting it for him. He clearly wasn't a kitchen gadgets kind of baker, and Honey wasn't either before she went to pastry school, but now she really couldn't live without them. She was about to suggest they perhaps help the macarons along with their baking, but Will acted before she could say anything.

"Ooh, they look perfect," Honey admired, seriously impressed with the glossy little cookies, the macaron feet perfectly even. They looked almost as good as if she had made them herself, which she had given up on long ago. She laughed, "I kind of figured that out, actually." He absolutely could sort of bake some things and Honey was very eager to find out what else he could sort of do. "It's rather poor, sorry," she said as she picked up a cookie after him. Instead of lobbing the macaron top at their instructor, she ate half of it in one quick bite.

The almond was there, but so was the sweetness of the meringue, and the just-right chewy center and crispy outside. Damn, it was good. "If you wanted to actually make any of these into full fledged macarons," she said once she had cleared her mouth, "You're going to have to stop me from eating them all." Really, what she wanted to do was just shove them all in her purse and then run away with Will. It really wasn't that bad of idea.

"So,  I make enough truffles to last a life time and we could probably make our own love cake," Honey said casually after she finished off the cookie she was holding on to, looking down at the remaining recipes. "Do you want to get that drink?" She looked up, a smirk on her face and one eyebrow raised. "I can tell you how to make the treacle fudge. Maybe you can actually get something out of this class after all."

Will honestly felt like a bit of a pillock, trying to impress a professional baker with his skills. They'd both lied about their abilities and somehow, he found that rather comforting. Honey was a breath of fresh air. She was beautiful but she was hilarious. She was also way, way out of his league. Had he met her anywhere else, he'd probably have avoided her. She wouldn't have seen him, anyway. He had a feeling she was usually followed by a swarm of men.

"I'm not the best liar," Will admitted with a wry smile. His mum said it was a good thing but he wasn't so sure. He'd originally felt guilty about having an unfair advantage but Honey had somehow absolved him. She'd accidentally become an accomplice in his cookie-based crime filled evening. But he was glad to have met her. He imagined they'd part once the class was over and  he didn't have the guts to ask her for her contact details.

His dark eyes watched her sample the confection and he felt terrified. In front of him stood the woman who made world famous chocolate and the most fantastical creations imaginable. "Yeah?" He asked with a dimpled grin, his chest puffing up and out with pride as his spirit lifted considerably. With a practised touch, he reached out and gently unstuck the perfectly purple and risen discs from the baking sheet.

He gave a laugh. "Thanks for bolstering my ego," he said quietly. He did want to make fully-fledged macarons. He wanted to set them all in a pretty little box with a bow and leave them outside Honeydukes with a thank you note but it all seemed a bit redundant. It was like giving flowers to a florist.

Love cake?

Will blinked at her swiftly. "Well I'm definitely up for learning," he replied vaguely, unsure if a love cake was some sort of Eastern cake delight or this was codeword for…the other thing. He cleared his throat as he tried to ward off the blush that was creeping up his neck and to his cheeks by faffing around and cleaning up his utensils clumsily.

"Yes." The word was out before William had time to think. Did he still want to get that drink? Hell yeah, he wanted to get that drink. He wanted to get that drink before Honey realised that he was an overgrown geek. As much as he wanted that  treacle fudge recipe, he really wanted to get to know her. He thought that trying to keep a hold on Honey was the equivalent of him trying to hold water between cupped hands; virtually impossible.

As swiftly as he could, Will shrugged on his coat and held out Honey's bag for her to take. "Jailbreak?" He offered, nodding towards the door. Annie was wandering up and down, like a general inspecting their troops and they didn't have long to make up their minds. Cause a diversion or escape?

His mind was made up. "Go!" With that, he grabbed Honey's hand firmly and pulled her behind him. He could hear Annie squawking as he sent dishes and cutlery flying, careful to keep the redhead safe. Out they ran, his long legs sprinting down the steps as though this was an actual full-on escape. He was never one for taking risks like these. He was painfully polite. At parties, he was usually the one to arrive first and stay until the very end, clearing up paper plates into binbags, even if the party was horrific front start to finish.

The gorgeous feeling of being reckless made him laugh hysterically as he slipped down the stairs, wonder and sheer joy bubbling up inside him. It was the same feeling that time he played "knock, knock, ginger" as a kid. It was fairly innocuous but he knew it was wrong but it still made him giggle. Once outside, he breathed in a lungful of fresh, cold air as he wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes. It was something so stupid and so simple but it had honestly tickled him pink and he was having a whale of a time in her presence.

"Her face!" He howled, wheezing as he snorted with laughter, doubled over but still holding her hand. His touch was less urgent and he held her hand gently. He'd momentarily forgotten all about personal space. Honey had floored him briefly. Even on the dark rain soaked streets, she was beautiful. The street lamps picked out the russet highlights in her red mane of hair, making her look like some sort of ethereal baking goddess. He was quiet for a second or two as he gawped at her, eyes wide and mouth dry before his brain kick started.

"Drink," he said firmly as he gave her hand  a gentle tug to get her moving. Will tended to frequent old man pubs. The type with rickety chairs, creaky doors and a pool table. On he walked, pulling up to a small pub, tucked away in a side street. It was his local and was called The Kings Arms. "Don't think you'll get your chocolate liqueur here but there might be something else you might like." With that, he opened the door for her and the flash of gleaming mahogany tables and the whiff of real ale drifted out into the cold air.

Honey's smirk didn't go anywhere once Will had agreed to the drink. He was mum about the rest of her offer, but she was more than capable of offering to give him a hands on lesson for making fudge before the night was over. And what better place to learn about Honeydukes fudge than in the kitchen of Honeydukes?

It caught her by surprise when he handed her bag to her. "Yes," it was her turn to agree without giving her options any thoughts. She noticed Annie wandering about and many different tactics for diversion crossed her mind. But before she could even move towards her wand, Will's hand was clutching her own and they were making their escape, running towards the exit. She only felt the tiniest bit bad when she knocked a tray of freshly made almond cookies clattering on the floor, but couldn't feel that bad when she noticed how horrible they looked. She let out a quiet "Sorry," as she went, trying to stifle her laughs until they were outside.

"That was amazing," she managed to get out between laughs. She was very conscious of their fingers intertwined, and she took another step towards him so she could get her other hand on his arm. "Seriously brilliant," she said with more laughs. She was laughing because of Will's laughter now more than the look on Annie's face, though that thought was still doing its part in making her happy.

He bakes, he jailbreaks, Honey smirked at him as the thought crossed her mind. She wanted to snog him right then and there, temporarily forgetting the original reason they had left the class in the first place. It looked like he was thinking the same thing as well and Honey was relieved that this was going to be so easy. They could just find a nice, dark place around the corner and acquaint themselves a little better before she invited him back to her flat.

Or they could go get a drink. She had been the one to suggest it in the first place, but her face fell all the same when Will stated it once more. The brief glimmer of hope that they would be skipping this step altogether was too real, though she knew she should still be excited about spending any time at all with him. Honey quickly replaced her fallen smile with another smirk as he tugged her along, walking quickly to keep up with him. "I guess you'll just owe me one some other time," she said, faking a pout as she was really quite pleased to get another excuse to see him again, even if it did mean she had to go to London again.

And there was definitely something else she would like, but it wasn't going to be anything alcohol related. She offered her thanks as he held the door for her, her eyebrows raised as she smirked. Just from the look of things, she would definitely not be finding any chocolate liquor here, that much was certain. It was her turn to tug on his hand to move him along through the door behind her, then over to the bar. She slid easily onto a barstool at the end of the bar, her accent thick as she ordered "Something sweet," with a shrug and a smile.

Honey Bea turned on her stool so that she was facing Will; she wasn't sure when she had let go of his hand, but she was suddenly regretting that decision. "So, if you're so good at baking, why did you sign up for that class?" She reached out with the hand farthest from the bar and rested it lightly on his closest knee. Whatever reason she had for signing up for it, she was thrilled that she had ended up with a partner who was randomly a wizard who already knew how to bake and didn't scoff at the idea of throwing things at their instructor.

The pub was dark but that was just how Will liked it. It smelt old and familiar, the comforting scent of wood polish, worn leather and a faint tang of tobacco. Plus, no one paid him attention but Honey had caused quite a stir. It was easy to see why; she was beautiful. She was the Birth of Venus, the Taj Mahal and winning the lottery, all rolled into one. With her shock of Titian hair and her naughty sense of humour, Will felt very lucky indeed to be spending any time with her.

Something sweet? Barry, the barman, looked decidedly unimpressed with her order but shuffled about behind the bar dutifully as Will ordered his usual of a pint of whatever ale was new. He was no connoisseur but he liked real ale. For some reason, he thought the redhead might be able to see through his usual pretence of ordering a vodka and soda and attempting to play it cool.

"It's a date," he replied to Honey swiftly and with a smile. It was probably the sheer amount of yo yoing hormones and fluctuating adrenaline that was making him confident. Had they met anywhere else,  he wouldn't have even bothered trying to talk to her. Why? Because she was out of his league. By a lot.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich before it was swallowed up by the idle chatter of the pub around them. "It was a birthday present," he answered Honey honestly. It wasn't his doing. "I know," he chuckled as he sipped at his pint. "Unusual. But I'm not really one for golf," he said as he feigned a shudder and pulled a face. "How about you?" He asked her, his big chocolate brown eyes focused just on her face. "Getting a head start on the competition?" He joked cheekily.

He couldn't see her hand but he knew exactly where it was. There was just something about Honey that made Will so acutely aware of absolutely everything and anything. The hairs on the backs of his arms were standing to attention as his flesh turned to goose bumps. He could feel the warmth of her hand radiating through his jeans and spreading up his thighs. He noticed her closeness and he felt like he needed to reciprocate. Being near Honey was like being hit with a static shock. And he was into it.

Now. Will was totally clueless but Honey's subtle actions made him think that yeah, maybe they could do something together. He wasn't the sort of guy who brought girls home a lot. He'd tried it once but Dave, his wolfhound, got in the way. The poor girl had been allergic to dogs and Dave decided he wanted to befriend her. The result was the woman sneezing in Will's face and then shouting at his dog. He'd take a lot but Dave was honestly one of his bestest friends and if it came between a love life and his dog? His dog would always win.

He tilted his head and smiled at the woman sitting close by him. The air was thick with things he wanted to say to her but he was holding back in case he spooked her. He wanted to know a lot of things about her. He wanted to know how she liked working at Honeydukes. He wanted to know her favourite colour and place. He wanted to know what made her laugh. He wanted to know if she was ticklish but there was only one question on his mind at the moment and he blurted it out quickly; "Do you like dogs?"

He watched her for a handful of seconds but he didn't wait for an answer. Will put his pint back down on the sticky bar and leant towards her carefully. He reached out a large warm hand to cup Honey's cheek, his fingertips lightly brushing through her coppery hair. Gently, he tilted up her face before he closed the rest of the gap and pressed his lips to hers.