with the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room [kate]

christmas day 2001

Charlie wasn’t a morning person. He was only awake this early because he was still operating in a different timezone. Kate had yet to stir, but she wouldn’t be far from waking – a glance at the clock on the wall told him that the alarm she’d set last night was due to go off in a couple of minutes. They were in Kate’s childhood bedroom. It felt surreal to be here, in this room. The last time Charlie had been in this house was a year and a half ago, and he’d been sleeping in the guest room – though admittedly, he hadn’t been alone the whole time.

It was Christmas morning, and they were expected downstairs shortly to have breakfast and open presents with the rest of the Duenas’. They’d arrived the day before yesterday. It hadn’t been as horrific so far as he’d expected – it seemed Kate’s older sister Fran was the only one who knew about his indiscretions, and he was well aware that he better stay on her good side to keep it that way. Charlie and Kate were on a lot better terms since spending a few days with his family early in the week, and he probably had his own idiocy to thank for that.

They’d turned up on his parents’ doorstep in Sheffield, and the Baker’s had known Charlie was coming for an early Christmas because he’d be in California on the actual day – but he’d neglected to tell his mum why he was going to be in America (she’d assumed band commitments) and also that he would be bringing his now-official girlfriend. He’d also forgotten to relay this information to Kate, so there had been surprises all around.

Charlie had never brought a girl home before, so Mrs Baker was overjoyed. Fortunately, she and Kate had got on famously. Charlie had been sufficiently embarrassed by his mum over the three days – photos from his muggle schooldays coming out, as well as all sorts of stories. When his grandmother had gone home after dinner on the first night, his mother had then proceeded to spend the next two days finding out everything about Kate: where she came from and if she was a witch, what she did for a living and if she lived in London too. For a break in the interrogation Charlie had taken Kate out and shown her around the city he’d grown up in. It had been nice, spending time together outside of the flat, and they’d reverted back to a sort of safe place in the relationship – the whole Layla escapade almost a distant memory.

A day at home to unpack and repack, and then they’d made the hop across the pond to San Diego. Fran was her delightful self, if actually a little more tolerable than usual with the extra contact he’d been making with her over the last few weeks; Mrs Duenas had been so nice Charlie had felt guilty from the moment she’d hugged him welcome; and even Tony was being warm towards him despite a mild discussion with his youngest daughter about where Charlie would be sleeping during their stay (Charlie had been happy to acquiesce to one of the guest rooms, but Kate had insisted he was staying with her). He had an overwhelming feeling of shame sitting in his gut – like he’d not only betrayed Kate, but her whole family.

Before he could dwell on it any further, Kate’s alarm rang and she twitched awake in his arms.

Kate dreamed a lot when she slept. Having dreamless sleep was very unusual for her: usually signalled some sort of malnutrition, lack of decent sleep, stress, something else. As it did for most people. Kate wondered if people even knew that dreams were normal, that you were supposed to have them and remember them and she couldn't remember 100%, but it seemed like her abuelita had told her that eating dates was good for recalling dreams. Some of Kate's dreams were based on real events and some of them... well, some of them, there was no telling where exactly they'd come from. It was no surprise, then, that as she slept soundly in her boyfriend's warm arms, nestled into her childhood bed (and blankets all the same), that she was subconsciously recounting the events of recent days and theorizing about the next.

Meeting Charlie's parents had been a dream in itself, and she'd been moderately upset with him when it had become clear his mother (nor his father) had any clue she was coming to visit. However, the genuine nature of her excitement and happiness for her son had revealed itself to Kate and Charlie almost immediately and there was no way Kate could've stayed mad at such a pure moment. She would cherish her first meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Baker forever, if their relationship lasted that long, and the days they'd spent at his childhood home in Sheffield had made her think maybe she wanted it to. She'd been sad to leave tourism of Charlie's home behind, the wine-drinking chats with Vi, as she preferred to be affectionately called, and sleeping in a pile in Charlie's single bed in his bedroom -- but she'd been excited for the second part of their holiday, too.

Kate was a chronic overpacker and thus they were prepared to stay about two weeks at the Duenas household -- if they absolutely had to, that was to say, they were equipped. Charlie was forgetful enough and spontaneous enough that sometimes he forgot to pack basics. Like his toothbrush. She was glad she was there to take care of him. It made her feel good.

The American witch had gotten into a brief squabble with the patriarch of her family about where exactly in their spacious-yet-cozy mansion her boyfriend would be staying. Even though she'd been well aware she was pushing the envelope and a very clear set of boundaries (her family didn't know they were living together or having sex yet), Kate ignored the alarm bells that had gone off in her head to put her foot down and insist she had every right to exercise her adulthood. After all, she was under no technical obligation to attend her family's events anymore -- she lived across the Atlantic ocean with the love of her life, and he was her first priority. Kate loved her family, but she felt it was important to remind herself she was coming only because of that and that she need not abide by any misplaced sense of duty.

She frowned in her sleep, wanting desperately to ignore the alarm yelling in her ears, but it eventually pulled her up into consciousness and she jerked awake in Charlie's arms, twisting in his grasp to hit the snooze button on top of the clock sitting on her bedside stand. Eight o'clock sharp. Later than normal, but she'd given herself a little bit of a cushion because of the lag in the timezones. Kate wondered idly if the little kids had already pounced on her cousins, on her aunts and uncles, for them to all rouse and get up to open presents already.

Slowly and carefully, her tiny form wiggled back around to face her boyfriend's face, and her arms looped automatically around his neck. "Mmhey," She mumbled, her voice still thick and missing some of its tone from lack of use. "You're awake." She pointed out gleefully, her mouth curving into a pleased grin that lingered on as she continued to whisper to him. "Nice to wake up to. Was I tossing and rolling around a bunch? I didn't feel like it, but I'm sorry if that's what woke you."

"Mm, morning." Charlie’s mouth twisted into a soft smile, the flesh of his neck giving him a small double-chin as he tilted his head down to look at Kate. He let out a small laugh as she started talking, his chest jerking. "Yes, I'm awake." He realised this was an unusual treat for Kate; he often slept in until at least mid-morning, if not well into the afternoon on some days, and his girlfriend was generally up at the crack of dawn. She didn’t seem to mind. It meant she could get at least some work done before he started distracting her – intentionally or not. It was nice, though, to wake up with Kate still in his arms. He subconsciously pulled her a little closer to him.

He sighed dramatically, pausing for effect before speaking. “No, you weren’t.” The smile returned, “Isn’t it like… the afternoon back home?” Home for Charlie was London. Or  Sheffield. Or England, as a whole, really. Just not here. Not yet, anyway. He felt very far from home in California. It wasn’t that he didn’t get treated well – the Duenas’ had always been very welcoming, some more than others, but he was always a guest here. He felt like he always would be. He couldn’t feel fully comfortable staying here, and didn’t think he ever would.

This was Kate’s father’s house, and Charlie had a deep-seated respect for Antonio Duenas. If it hadn’t been for Tony, Banshee likely wouldn’t have had the same exposure in America – they wouldn’t have been able to relocate here for two years, wouldn’t have had the success, Charlie might not have met Kate, and on top of all that – Charlie might not be here. Dramatic, possibly, but not wholly inaccurate. He’d have been an easy target in England for You Know Who and his followers. Charlie owed Kate’s father a lot more than she probably realised, and more than he cared to admit. Especially given how he treated his daughter sometimes.

Charlie swallowed, closing his eyes briefly as he heard the distant sound of children shrieking down the hall. “Mm.” He grumbled lightly. He wasn’t really used to being around children. All his cousins were of a similar age as him, and though some were starting to have babies, Charlie hadn’t met any great nieces or nephews yet. His friends weren’t there yet either. He knew it wouldn’t be long. Especially for those who were getting married – it seemed to be the natural progression, didn’t it? Get married, get knocked up straight after. Charlie couldn’t think of anything worse. Perhaps that was why he was so averse to the whole thing. He knew he wasn’t against getting married in and of itself, not really, and he’d even thought about it briefly since he and Kate had reconciled – but had quickly pushed it away.

Being here had made it even clearer that in Kate’s family, marriage really meant settling down. Charlie didn’t know if Kate was just humouring him when they joked about Consuela and Hector and their six kids, and if that was what she really wanted, but he just couldn’t see themselves like that. So many of Kate’s cousins, the girls, anyway, were treated like maids. To cook and clean, pop out and raise the children – and nothing else. Charlie knew that Antonio and his wife had raised their girls less conservatively than that (obviously), but Charlie was rocking the boat just by being here. He wasn’t Kate’s husband, as he’d been reminded several times, but it was anticipated that he would be soon, and that on their wedding night she’d get pregnant and that would be it. No career, no need to have any aspirations. Surely that wasn’t what she wanted? He daren’t ask her just in case the answer was ‘yes’.

Charlie groaned a little as he stretched, one arm folding up under his head. He pulled Kate’s small frame to him and sighed heavily, smiling gently at her with half-lidded eyes, “Do we have to get up?” His suggestion was punctuated by more excited screaming from down the hall, Charlie rolled his eyes. “Christ, let’s get this over with.”

"Mhm," She nodded, squirming to retrieve one arm out from under his hold to rub at her eyes and banish the particles of sleep from them. "Like three or four in the afternoon." They were sort of on vacation, but not really. There was kind of a sense of duty attached to some of the things they did at her parents' house, and there were certain social rules and norms they had to abide by. They couldn't swear and speak candidly about everything, they couldn't touch or have sex anywhere and as much as they wanted, and they couldn't ignore things they'd said they would do in favor of one another's company. Even though Kate had a hard time living in London because of silly superficial things like the climate and the icy air about many of its inhabitants, she had to admit that she preferred the atmosphere within their own little home than she did her parents'.  It felt strange to consider a place apart from the home she'd grown up in home, but she really felt as though home was wherever she was with him. Kate felt more tied to him than she ever had to any place.

She felt the most herself with Charlie, and she was almost positive that he felt the same way about her. Sometimes, the only thing that kept her from shirking her responsibilities to be in his presence every minute was simply that her job allowed him to do what he loved. Kate was sure she wouldn't have been quite as good a manager for anyone else -- there wasn't the same degree of investment she felt with Banshee. Because she was in love with its frontman. And he was in love with her, as far as she could tell -- and she certainly could, when he looked at her like that with his own sleepy brown eyes.

Kate cracked a humored grin when her boyfriend closed his eyes and growled. She knew that had to do with the children and the racket they were making down the hall. Having grown up in a very large family, where extended family basically meant the same thing as immediate family -- family was family, after all -- she was almost immune to those sounds and didn't necessarily mind them, per se. She wouldn't lie and pretend they were helpful in creating a zen atmosphere, but Kate had grown up immersed in all sorts of generational gaps and had learned much from that. She wouldn't have traded her experiences, but it would not have been preferential to still be submerged while trying to savor her new adulthood. Perhaps it would have been different if she wasn't attached to anyone, but she was too busy enjoying his company and, immediately, waking up in his arms to consider anything else a reasonable alternative.

"Well, actually," Kate began softly to counter him and touched his arm, "I don't think we have to get up just yet." A smile, different to the one which she'd just been sporting in light of the screaming tots, was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I didn't think we needed to open our gifts to each other downstairs. I'd kind of rather do it in private," She told him quietly, the pads of her fingertips blazing a gentle trail up toward the crook of his elbow. "I set the gifts we brought for my parents and my sister down under the tree, but... I wanted to do ours in here. Alone. So we don't have to get up yet. The kids will be ripping stuff open and throwing paper everywhere and just," Kate breathed out heavily and offered a light roll of her brown eyes. "Even I think that's a little overstimulating."

Charlie turned his head to look at Kate, a smirk spreading across his lips slowly. “Really?” He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes too high, that the petite brunette in his arms was only delaying the inevitable, not cancelling the need to socialise altogether. Charlie shifted slightly, keeping his gaze fixed with hers, “That would be preferable.”

“Mmm,” the musician’s mind was wandering. He was thinking about what he’d brought her, and in turn what she might have bought him. Charlie wasn’t worried in the slightest about if he’d like what he would be receiving – but he definitely doubted his own present-buying ability. He had managed to do alright for Kate’s birthday; he’d noticed she almost always wore that necklace, even when they hadn’t been talking and she was sleeping in a separate room.

If he thought he could get away with it, Charlie would ask Kate if they could never give each other physical gifts again. But she was too sentimental, and he couldn’t do that to her.  “I would,” he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, “really,” another on her cheek, “really like to give you yours in private.” He wore a small grin as he pulled back, looking her in the eyes. The Slytherin wondered if Kate was doing this for his benefit – she knew he hated attention, or at least, the kind that you received when everyone sang happy birthday to you. Christmas was the same, wasn’t it? Opening gifts and trying to make sure you looked the right amount of overjoyed at whatever was in the box – even if it was just a pair of socks.

“Overstimulating is one word for it.” Charlie wet his lips slowly, “I can think of a few others.” He caught the roll of her golden brown eyes and his thoughts raced again (is this what it was to be up before noon? To be alert and full of musings so early in the day?); was that gesture for his benefit too? Or was he imagining it? Thinking more highly of himself than he should? Kate’s every action couldn’t be just for him. He was being ridiculous. 

Charlie disentangled himself from Kate, swinging his legs over the bed and scooping his boxers up off the floor. He slipped them on as he stood, then took a few long strides across the room to his bag, rummaging around inside it for a second before pulling out two boxes.

The first was not overly large, but it was as deep as it was wide; a cube. The wrapping paper was blue, and not perfectly creased and folded, with probably a little more tape than was necessary. Inside was a magical camera and a few rolls of film. This was the family-friendly present that he would have taken downstairs to give to Kate in front of her parents. It wasn’t an expensive gift, in the scheme of things, but he’d put thought into it. She had a few photographs littered across her desk and her dresser in the flat, and Charlie had had the idea she might enjoy adding to those.

The second box was bigger, but flatter. This one was wrapped more professionally; it was a soft gold presentation box with a big white ribbon. Inside, individually wrapped in tissue paper, were three sets of lingerie. Nothing too risqué, but from what he’d picked up on, they were Kate’s style: feminine, lacey, in rich colours (deep slate blue, a dark peachy pink, and classic black). He’d covertly checked the labels of some of the things in her drawers and found a common brand, making note of her size (why was women’s underwear so bloody well complicated?), and then gone to the shop. The actual purchasing of the items had been another story – one he would rather never relive.

As he sat back on the bed Charlie held one box in each hand, “Er,” he looked between them, and then flicked his tawny gaze up to Kate. “It... doesn’t really matter which one you open first.” He said quietly, awkwardly handing them both to her at the same time.

Accepting the kisses on her cheek and her forehead with a little curl of her neck, Kate was grinning unabashedly when he pulled away from her face. Was this what it meant to wake up next to somebody you loved on Christmas morning? Of course, there had been the allure and the magic of both Mexican and American Christmas legends as a child, and being unable to fall asleep until four o'clock in the morning, and then popping awake completely alert again at thirteen past six in the morning to tumble clumsily down the stairs to sit around the tree skirt to open presents.

Unbeknownst to little Kate, obviously, her parents had tirelessly stayed awake to make Christmas morning a winter wonderland for her, Francesca, and their cousins. The tree, covered in white lights, ribbons, and glittering red and gold ornaments, had towered all the way up to the ceiling in the tall foyer of their spacious home, and Ilvermorny's Christmas decorations almost paled in comparison. She was nostalgic and sentimental, of course, so that probably played into her bias as she thought back on it, but she missed the feeling of childlike wonder that the holiday season had brought her as small girl. She wondered what her boyfriend's Christmases at home, before he'd started attending Hogwarts, had been like.

Kate knew that the house elves tended to go all out with things. It was just the way they were -- she could relate to that, and their devotion to their companions, and the desire to please. Her heart ached for the house elves who were mistreated by their owners. She was sure she'd cried about that in class as a young teenager the first time she'd learned about it. And, on a more positive note, that the magical ceiling in the Great Hall, and all the other things she'd read about in textbooks, were really things to behold. Kate had never even seen snow until she'd started going to school in Massachusetts. She couldn't say she was more fond of it than sunshine, but there was something about it that made December days seem just a little bit more whimsical. That aside, she wasn't sure how Midwestern people and people who lived in Alaska and places like that could deal with dark days and consistent snow and ice without becoming utterly depressed.

She'd prematurely placed her Christmas gift, or the representation of it, in the drawer of her nightstand almost as soon as they'd gotten here. Just so she knew where it was and so Charlie didn't accidentally stumble upon it and wonder what it was. Kate stretched her arms and sat up with a little grunt to prepare herself to receive Charlie's gift, (gifts this time, it looked like there were two and now she was feeling bad) raising her eyebrows with a funny smile when he presented them both to her at once. Her small hand struggled to grasp the cube-shaped one, but it was the one she gravitated to first. She could tell he'd wrapped this one himself and that made her heart swell in her chest.

Kate peeked up at him as she started pulling at the strips of tape, carefully opening the package and the box to reveal a magical camera. Her face broke out into a wide grin instantaneously and she looked up at him after gently placing the camera back in the box, gesturing toward her face with a waggly index finger to beckon him close. She touched his chin as they kissed for a second and swept her thumb affectionately over his cheekbone. "I love it. This was so thoughtful. Thank you, honey." Knowing he would feel awkward and not sure how to respond, as he tended to kind of... be with presents, she glossed over it expertly with a suggestion she knew would pique his interest. "Maybe we can use it. Later. Also in private." She winked at him and then reached for the other box, which was tied together with a simple ribbon that she just slipped off the edges.

She audibly gasped for air when the lid came off and she laid her eyes upon three of the most beautiful lingerie sets she thought she'd maybe ever seen. "Oh, my god." Kate breathed, examining each garment with careful fingertips, "These are absolutely gorgeous." And nice lingerie cost a fortune. She knew that. She'd bought some more sets herself that she was going to use on their vacation to Aspen, but he didn't know they were vacationing to Aspen yet, so she'd save that information for later when it made more sense. "I can wear a set later? And you can hold the camera, if that works?" She smiled at him.

"Alright, sit back, this is going to be anticlimactic compared to yours," Kate winced apologetically and leaned over to the drawer in her nightstand, pulling the envelope which housed a card, telling him their vacation began the sixth of January and lasted for a week, and the brochure for the cabin she'd booked in Aspen. Slightly trembly, she handed it over and folded her hands in her lap. "I... thought about Breckenridge or Vail, but everything I read said that Aspen was the way to go. For eating and drinking and things like that, so... Merry Christmas." She beamed at him. "I've never been skiing, so I thought it could be cool for you to teach me."

Charlie watched Kate anxiously. He was chewing on his lip and frowning slightly. She went for the hand wrapped present first – he shouldn’t have been surprised. Kate loved sentimental things. Perhaps he was lucky in that way, that no matter what he gave her he knew, deep down, that she would always love it simply because he had given it to her.

He met his girlfriend’s gaze as she flicked her eyes up, offering her a small, nervous smile in response. Upon seeing her grin Charlie mirrored the expression. He leant forward at her come-hither gesture to take her kiss obediently, tipping his face sideways more into her touch as her thumb stroked over his cheek. “Mm, good.” he could feel his face warming slightly, a natural response the awkwardness he felt. He shouldn’t feel it. He knew that, but he couldn’t help it. Thankfully Kate’s next words distracted him – his brown eyes popped slightly before relaxing, his mouth curling into a soft smirk. That had not been his intention in purchasing the camera, but he certainly wasn’t going to say no. The words in the letters he’d received from Kate whilst she’d still been in school had been suggestive, but as much as Charlie loved the written and spoken word, he was a very visual creature. The photos Kate had sent him then had been very modest, still likely to get him in trouble should anyone ever find them, but not raunchy. Charlie had a distinct feeling that Kate was planning on taking it up a notch judging by that little wink, and with the added benefit of this being a magical camera there’d be movement if they developed them right. He was feeling a little hot and bothered just thinking about it.

Charlie’s mind was still happily entertaining that idea as Kate opened the other box. He couldn’t tell if this reaction was better than the previous. It seemed bigger. Should he read into that? That she preferred the pretty, expensive underwear more than the less exciting, cheaper camera? He didn’t have time to contemplate far, she was filling his thoughts with other imagery quickly and he wasn’t unhappy about it. If he thought it was at all a possibility he’d suggest they stay in this room all day, but he knew better. And he knew they’d come a long way to see her family. And he also knew that they wouldn’t be staying here much longer, so they’d have plenty of alone time over the next week. Or, that was the plan, anyway. The brunette tongued the inside of his cheek, “They should be the right size and everything,” he said finally, “and I am not opposed to you trying them on later.” He grinned.

Charlie’s brow furrowed lightly, the grin he’d been wearing shifting into a sort of wary half-smile. “Anticlimactic?” He repeated, his expression feigning concern. His dark eyes watched her retrieve an inconspicuous looking envelope from her bedside. Charlie took it as she offered it to him, his mind racing – wondering what it might be. Was it a letter? If so, was it a good one or a bad one? He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted to read it in front of Kate. He knew he was terrible at hiding his emotions, and he didn’t want to offend her if he reacted poorly – regardless of the tone of the letter itself.

Charlie opened it, knowing that Kate was watching him, and pulled out the card inside. He frowned a little in confusion, but the crease in his forehead smoothed out as he started reading. He was half reading-half listening to her explanation. Charlie looked up at Kate, a funny little smile dancing across his lips, as though he wanted to say a million things but was trying to keep all the words locked in. Finally, he spoke. “This is… not what I was expecting. It’s perfect. Thank you.” He grinned, before raising an eyebrow at her, “Mm, I dunno. You look like you might be a difficult student.” That familiar smirk made it’s way back onto his sharp features. After a second’s pause, in which he reread the card again, he looked seriously at Kate. “How did you know…?”

Her brown eyes narrowed, but not unpleasantly, at the mention of sizing. "The right size?" Kate thought aloud, as was typical between the two of them. She felt comfortable shoving anything out onto the metaphorical table in most circumstances. "Were you sneaking around in my drawers?" She laughed, a crisp, almost impressed noise, and settled her fingers on her hips. One of Charlie's many talents was surprising her, and doing it effectively, at that. It wasn't always a positive surprise, she'd learned recently, but most of the time it was. Like when he'd shown up to their birthday vacation with a tattoo on his arm for her, or when he'd randomly turned up in Shackamaxon for her eighteenth birthday, or when he'd written to her to surprise her with a job, or when he'd sprung on her that she wouldn't be living anywhere else in London but with him. He certainly had a knack for making her heart drop, whether that was in the most wonderful, butterfly-inducing way or in the way that made her want to shrivel up and die.

She would linger on the former for this Christmas, she decided. That was love, wasn't it? Understanding there were both good and bad and choosing to love the good more than you detested the bad.

He seemed uneasy when she handed him the envelope, and graciously she understood why. Could've been any number of things. Could've even been a surprise like the ones he enjoyed ambushing her with. The idea that he had no clue what was inside made her stomach churn pleasantly and the corners of Kate's mouth turned up slightly in an elfish little smirk. She almost wiggled forward in her anticipation as she waited for him to open it and finish reading it, and unable to help her spontaneous emotional reaction (as was usual), her lips gave way for the sunniest grin she'd probably made in the last couple days. It might've been longer before that if they hadn't just been at his parents' house. Kate remembered smiling a lot then.

"I'm glad you like it," Kate gushed excitedly, pressing her hands together in front of her mouth to try and conceal some of her giddiness. She didn't want him to feel too embarrassed or weird, but if she could say so, she'd known he would like his gift. Charlie had quite a bit of money, but he was much more experience-oriented as opposed to being a person who placed a lot or too much value on material objects. He could see past that. It was pleasing to Kate that her boyfriend knew the value of sentiment and memories without her having to explain them to him.

He made a funny little comment about her being a difficult student and she rolled her eyes, the same smile twitching at her lips again. "Pff, no. Have I been a difficult student thus far? Besides the -- learning how to use your no-maj stuff," She expertly stuck her exception clause in at the last second. "You didn't know me in school. I got great marks. I can totally learn how to put some boards on my feet and sled down a mountain in them," Kate insisted, leaning forward on her knees to press another chaste kiss to her boyfriend's lips. If it had been anything but chaste, anyway, they might've run into another stall to their morning. She'd have to save the real fun for later when people wouldn't be pounding on their door any second to draw them out.

How did you know? Kate winced. "Weeeell," She began confessing, folding her hands gingerly in her lap, "When you were asleep in Sheffield," The witch tread forward carefully, "I was looking through some of your stuff, in your bedroom. And there was a ski jacket and some pants hanging in your closet, so. I figured you'd enjoyed it at some point. And then later I asked your mom about it and she confirmed."

“Er, yeah.” Charlie reached up and scratched at the back of his neck. “I might have been,” he admitted with an awkward smile. “I didn’t want to get it wrong.” He explained, knowing that he didn’t really need to, but feeling like he should anyway. Charlie knew that if he’d gotten a size too small in the knickers it wouldn’t be offensive so much as inconvenient, but too big and she’d probably worry he thought she was fat or something ridiculous like that. And then there was bra sizing – what a minefield. He would’ve had no idea where to start there. He knew the letters were essentially the size but then why were there numbers too? If he’d gone too large with the bras he was almost certain Kate would think he was hinting at something. So, no. He didn’t regret ferreting around in her drawers.

Charlie turned the card over in his hands, slotting the stiff paper back into the envelope for safe-keeping. “I do.” He affirmed, once more, with a smile. The brunette knew he could seem relatively unexcited by things even if he was practically fizzing on the inside. It was just the way his face fell.

His soft smile widened into a grin as Kate rolled her eyes. “Hmm, I suppose not. Excluding my ‘no-maj’ stuff.” He agreed with a smirk, using her terminology and recalling sparks shooting around the microwave when Kate forgot for the umpteenth time that you couldn’t put anything metal in it. Charlie forced himself to remain still as she kissed him, acutely aware that they had to venture out shortly. He let out a light laugh at her primitive description of skiing. “There’s a little more to it than just strapping you to the skiis and pushing you down a hill, but I think we’ll manage.”

The musician tongued the inside of his cheek as she winced, a funny little smile playing across his lips as he fought to contain it. “Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows at her, still kind of smiling, “So I’m not the only one who’s been rummaging in drawers?” He teased. The brunette opened his mouth to ask her what else she’d found snooping whilst he’d been asleep and unable to defend himself, but was interrupted by a sharp few knocks on the bedroom door.

‘Hurry up you freaks, I’m alone out here!’

Charlie grumbled and rolled his eyes, recognising the voice as Kate’s sister. “Right, let’s get it over with.”