the devil wants to know [hefin]

early may 2002

“Wow, I’m…” Honey Bea paused as she rolled over, pulling the sheets up to her chin. “...old.” She laughed, her head pounding in protest. The light hadn’t seemed so bright a few minutes ago, not when she was otherwise preoccupied. But now, laying back and staring up at the ceiling, the sunlight streaming in through the part in the curtains was oppressing. She grabbed the side of her waist with her hand, massaging out a stitch. “Won’t have to workout today, I guess.” Not that she was planning to, anyway, but that was beside the point.

She glanced sideways at the Australian man lying next to her, hardly suppressing a laugh before rolling over and reaching over him to grab the small alarm clock from the nightstand on his side of the bed, lingering for a second too long. She brought the clock back with her as she lay down again, studying the numbers. It wasn’t even six in the morning.

Honey tossed the clock to the rug below, the alarm bells making a muffled sound as it made contact with the ground. “Coffee.” It was both a statement that she needed a coffee and a question if Hefin wanted one. She sat up, swinging her feet over the side of the bed, stretching her neck out to each side before finally standing, taking her time pulling a red silk dressing gown on just in case he wanted another look. As if he didn’t.

Without a second glance behind her, Honey exited her small bedroom, making the short walk to the kitchen in a few seconds. The kitchen above Honeydukes was much smaller than the one downstairs, but well stocked with all the necessities. The coffee only took her a few minutes to prepare, but it was enough time to afford her an opportunity to replay the events of the previous evening.

She had catered some sort of cocktail party, working closely with one Heather Walker, providing nothing less than the best sweets and service. But champagne had been there, as well as her son, and one thing led to another and... if she didn’t get the best recommendation now, she’d eat her hat. She recalled laughing when he had responded, ‘No, twenty-two,’ to her her rhetorical question of, “What are you, twelve?” It wasn’t a big deal at the time, but as the realization set in that he was, by far, the youngest person she had slept with since also being twenty-two, Honey couldn’t help but smirk. She still had it.

Pouring out two cups of coffee (one loaded down with an unhealthy amount of sugar), Honey made her way back to her bedroom, raising an eyebrow as her gaze fell upon the man still in her bed. “Coffee,” she reiterated, slightly raising the mug that wasn’t overly-sugared. A plate of pastries was bobbing along behind her, some chocolate and some raspberry, but she nearly dropped everything at the sound at the window. “Oh, do you mind?” Honey tilted her head to the window, where it was only an owl, tapping on the glass with its beak. There was a handful of knuts on the windowsill beneath the owl. “That’ll be the paper.”

@Hefin Howell

Hefin let out a soft laugh as soon as he heard the Scottish accent. “Oh, Honey.” He’d slept over. The realisation came upon him as soon as he’d heard the alarm clock, but before opening his eyes, Hefin also figured out where he was – in Scotland, in the bed of nobody else than the enchanting Honey Bea. Thankfully, he hadn’t even had the time to worry about coming up with excuses of leaving, for Honey Bea wasn’t certainly the type of woman who needed shallow yet polite words in such situations. Or, at least, she didn’t seem so – not yet.

“Disappointed.” He commented, his Australian accent even more noticeable in comparison with hers. “I thought we could continue what we started yesterday. But if you’re old and tired…” Hefin glanced in her direction as she rolled over him to grab the alarm clock from the nightstand on his side of the bed. She lingered for a moment too long, and Hefin narrowed his eyes, a suggestive smirk appearing on his face. His gaze followed the alarm clock, and the quidditch player found himself relieved it wasn’t too late. Later than he would normally wake up, but still before six.

“Coffee.” Hefin confirmed, deciding not to ask for green tea. Owning a sweets shop, he wasn’t sure that Honey Bea would even have green tea, plus, this hadn’t been planned. He had slept over, broken his rule, so Hefin might as well break another one. He could simply go on a stricter diet later on; it was something easily planned and he didn’t mind doing so. His eyes lingered on her figure, yet again quite aware that Honey Bea’s gestures were carefully calculated – she was definitely trying to make him stay long enough for a second round, otherwise she wouldn’t be so slow in putting on her robe. Nonetheless, Hefin decided against moving and pulling her back to bed, for he was keen on seeing for how long she would play this game.

As Honey left the room, Hefin couldn’t but think of last night’s events. His mother had insisted he would attend her cocktail party, and one thing lead to another, and there he was now. If anything, his mother couldn’t state he wasn’t overly generous to her business partners, or that he hadn’t deeply enjoyed last night. Because he definitely did. Hefin let out a laugh as these thoughts came upon him, and shifted in his place, lazily getting up, and then leaning his back against the bed’s headboard. The metal felt cold on his skin, but it was perfectly good for sobering up.

The witch soon came back into the room – which, he’d just noticed, was incredibly small, even for his own standards – and Hefin arched an eyebrow as she handed him a mug full of freshly prepared coffee. “Thank you.” He took a sip, and honestly enjoyed the slightly bitter taste. As he swallowed his sip, Hefin couldn’t but notice the plate of pastries behind her. “Honey, I can keep you busy all day long without all of this.” Hefin commented on a cheeky tone, his gaze then turning towards the source of the sound which startled her.

“Yeah, no problem.” Hefin placed his mug on the nightstand, and then slowly got up from the bed, not bothering to drag the sheet along or anything. Unlike her, he would allow Honey Bea to admire his overall perfection. He ran a hand through his hair and opened the window, quickly picking up the newspaper from the owl’s beak, and afterwards patting it twice on the head. “Thank you.” He commented, as he closed the window. It was a chilly morning – Hefin had conveniently forgotten how much he disliked weather in Scotland, particularly at such early hours.

More out of instinct than out of curiosity, Hefin skimmed the first page. It had become a habit, ever since becoming a professional quidditch player. He was about to deem that day’s paper as completely boring and uninteresting until his eyes fell on a particular headline, regarding Viktor Krum’s personal life. While Hefin wasn’t especially keen on gossip, the wizard was a fan of the Bulgarian ever since his Hogwarts days. Now he, of course, personally knew Viktor, but somehow the other man had always seemed intangible. A legend.

Hefin browsed the article, and the newspaper suddenly fell from his hands. He froze, and his mind went blank. “Are you” – he started, gaze slowly turning in Honey’s direction – “dating Viktor Krum?”

Honey handed over the cup of coffee with a raised eyebrow, maneuvering herself to grab the plate of pastries from the air as he spoke again. He was one of those that enjoyed using her name, like oh, Honey, but she wasn’t sick of it yet -- but it was still early, she supposed. “You’re sweet, but…” she shrugged and smirked, looking down at the pastries to make it clear that he was still lacking a bit of sweetness. She shrugged again as she looked back up, taking a sip of her coffee.

She didn’t thank him as he moved to fulfill her request, assuming that the act of keeping her eyes on him was thanks enough. He was certainly nice to look at, that much was for sure. Honey took a final look before settling back into bed, carefully balancing the plate and her cup until she had firmly planted herself. She crossed her legs beneath and placed the pastries between her and where Hefin used to be; with a sideways glance, Honey took another sip of coffee, both hands now around the mug.

“Thank you,” she finally said, dropping her gaze down the length of his body. He had yet to come back to bed, seemingly more interested in her paper than in her; hmpf. ”Anything good?” Honeydukes wasn’t running any ads in today’s paper, so she doubted there was anything of too much interest, but it seemed easier than being straight up demanding he come back over -- she needed a bit more coffee before she got that sort of energy. She raised her eyebrow again, turning her attentions instead to one of the chocolate pastries, which didn’t have the nerve to ignore her.

Mouth full of pastry, she looked up, finally being addressed. “Am I?” she repeated, swallowing quickly. ...dating Viktor Krum? “Oh.” Honey smirked, slowly licking a few crumbs from her thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, s’pose I am.” She grimaced quickly, but that didn’t last; she smirked again. “Oops.” She shrugged, rolling her shoulders before holding out her hand for the paper with both eyebrows raised. “What’s it say?”

It took a few seconds for her to find the article and skim the few paragraphs, key phrases jumping out at her. “Illustrious confectioner,” she read with a laugh. She didn’t comment on the next sentence, the one about her affair with a different quidditch player. She assumed the reporter was talking about Harlan and not the naked quidditch player next to her. As usual, the newspaper was a tad behind. “It has been decided to announce it before the paparazzi blah blah blah.” She rolled her eyes and handed the paper back, finding her coffee again.

“I am,” she reiterated. “It’s new,” she added with a shrug, her gaze fixed on Hefin again, trying to figure out if she should apologize or not; some people felt less great about the whole faithful-to-a-partner thing, but as she had said, things with Viktor were new. She hadn’t seen him in a week and had spent the week since with her parents -- and then there was champagne and a different quidditch player; she didn’t think Hefin could blame her.