I've been letting you down lately [honey]

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

Nathan rolled groggily out of bed and rubbed his eyes.  What was the time?  A glance to the clock on the wall confirmed it was 11am.  He’d been on the night shift and had only gotten home at 5am.  Nathan remembered what a busy night it had been with his mentor, Reggie.  They’d rendered medical assistance for two Quidditch accidents, three bar fights, five separate cases of poisoning and finally a cauldron explosion that put eight people in the hospital.  He had been so thoroughly exhausted from treating patients and constantly apparating back-and-forth to St Mungo’s that he’d fallen asleep fully clothed.  Which explained why he woke up feeling so sore.

Tap.  Tap. 

Archie screeched from his perch at the end of the bed, drawing Nathan back to the present.  Oh right, the window. He stood up, rolling his shoulders and trying to work the stiffness out of his muscles.  Striding across the room he reached over the plants on the windowsill to open the window.  A tawny owl stepped in and ruffled its feathers grumpily, glaring at Nathan with bright yellow eyes.  “Sorry.” Nathan told the owl as he reached for the letter it was carrying.  He absentmindedly scratched the owl behind the head as he regarded the envelope which was addressed in his own handwriting to “Honey Bea Flume, Honeydukes, Hogsmeade”.  A frown creased his face.  This was now the third time the letter had been returned to him unopened.  “What’s going on?” He asked the postal owl but the owl did not reply.  Sighing, Nathan put the letter aside and gave the owl a few Knuts and an owl treat for its trouble.

Nathan had been writing to Honey for years and couldn’t understand why his letters were suddenly not being delivered.  He hoped she was ok.  Was she sick?  Something wrong with the shop?  Maybe a controlling lover didn’t want him writing to Honey?  He knew that Honey was more than capable of taking care of herself but still, it had him worried.  Something must be going on.  It was his day off so he decided that he’d go to Hogsmeade that afternoon to check in on her.

…

By the time Nathan arrived in Hogsmeade it was evening.  Nathan grimaced as he saw the time on his watch was 8:05pm.  Shoot.  A wee bit later than afternoon.  He’d meant to come by a lot earlier but well, things just had a way of happening.  First, little nine-year-old Jessie from downstairs had lost her cat so he’d spent a good hour or so helping her look.  (The rascally creature had eventually been located under a bush in the rooftop garden).  After that Nathan was asked to babysit the Nelson twins whilst their mum dealt with some kind of emergency at work.  The six-year-old boys had kept him busy all afternoon playing games, sharing stories and generally making a mess of his apartment.  Then after their mum had picked them up and Nathan was about to finally head out to Hogsmeade, elderly Mrs Wellington caught him in the hallway.  Her legs were giving her trouble again and she asked Nathan if he could brew up another potion for the pain.  The thought to say “no” would never cross Nathan’s mind so of course he gathered up the ingredients and spent a couple of hours preparing the potion. 

Now he was hurrying down the road through Hogsmeade.  All of the stores were closed this time of night and the little village was quiet and empty.  But it was not a cold or eerie place at all.  Warm light filtered out from a number of the windows, where families were likely having dinner or catching up.  The light out the front of the pub also blazed invitingly and he could hear a soft buzz of voices within.  With his long stride, Nathan quickly reached the small candy store that was his destination. 

He hesitated, considering whether he should bother Honey who may very well be busy with her own plans for the evening.  But his letters… he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.  Maybe she’d end up just laughing at him for worrying about issues with the post but he wanted to be sure.  I’ll just see if she’s home and make sure she’s alright. Peering in through the shop window he tried to catch a glimpse of light or something to let him know whether Honey was within.  Only his reflection gazed back at him; a tall man with messy hair, dressed simply in a navy blue t-shirt and jeans.  He pressed his face up against the glass, straining to see anything.

@Honey Bea Flume

Business was slow in the summer, but that didn’t mean Honey Bea Flume wasn’t busy. Slow or not, she still had a business to run, candies to create, sweets to market, employees to mind. She had anticipated this summer being a little more low key than the last -- she wasn’t teaching a summer class at the international summer school halfway round the world, after all -- but that was before she had found herself in another sort of relationship. A public one, at that, which required her to be on her best behavior; it only served to help her hone her skills for private meetings (of privates).

And at some point in juggling all of that, she still had to eat. Being in the kitchen all day making food for other people never left her with much desire to cook for herself, and tonight had been no different. The last customer had been in around half past six, but she had stayed open until the posted time thirty minutes past that. She took her time at the Three Broomsticks, glossing over what needed to be done -- cleaning the kitchen -- in favor what she wanted to do -- maybe invite her brother round. Everyone seemed to be busy with quidditch today, in one way or another, but maybe Fergie could spare some time.

Honey stepped out of the pub, the remains of her pie-for-dinner wrapped up neatly in her hand. She tugged awkwardly at the long sleeves of her golden-Honeydukes-H-emblazoned t-shirt, pulling them down in some quick defense against the breeze. It was still light out, and would be for quite some time, so there was no mistaking the man looking into her shop’s window. She had just returned another of his letters that morning for the second -- third? -- time, and she sized him up with an arched eyebrow, as she stopped a ways away to size him and the situation up.

He had stood her up for drinks a week ago; she was honestly surprised that it had taken him this long to finally show his face in the village. They had been friendly enough, always pushing their plans for a proper catch up further and further as one or both of them found themselves busy. But she always had the courtesy to let him know in advance, hadn’t she? Simply not showing up was annoying, to put it mildly. Unopened, returned letters was really the least she could do.

She resumed walking again, refraining from saying anything more than, “We’re closed,” as she passed behind him, rolling her eyes. Honey pushed the door open and stepped inside, not bothering to close or lock the door behind her, assuming he would follow her in anyway. She left the lights in the shop’s main area off, the warm lingering daylight more than enough for her displeasure at finding Nathan at her doorstep to be apparent. She set her leftovers on the front counter before hoisting herself up onto it, her eyes trained on the still open door.

Nathan jumped, startled to hear Honey’s voice from behind him.  He spun around with a smile to greet her.  “Hey – oh…”  But she had already passed and entered the store.  He barely caught a glimpse of her bright red hair before she was inside.  Puzzled by her brusque comment, the smile slipped from his face.  Of course he knew the shop was closed at this time.  Nathan didn’t know what to think about Honey’s behaviour.  Maybe she didn’t recognise me?  At least it was now clear to him that the candy maker wasn’t injured, incarcerated or missing.  Immediately feeling reassured he followed her into the store.

“Hey Honey!”  He tried calling out again as he stepped inside.  “It’s me.  Nathan.”  Standing in the main room of the store he looked around, admiring the neatly arranged candy displays.  Gee it had actually been a while since he had stood in this store.  It looked really nice of course, Honey had a good eye for arrangements.  “I’m not here to buy candy.”  He chuckled, shrugging and running a hand through his hair.  “But some Honey might be nice.”  Initial concerns beginning to evaporate, Nathan was just happy to see his old friend and automatically slipped into friendly banter. 

He started to move closer to where the red-head sat perched on the front counter but his steps faltered when he saw the expression on her face and he stopped awkwardly a few feet away.  Nathan wasn’t always the best at picking up the clues on people’s faces but Honey didn’t look happy to see him.  He could tell by how she wasn’t returning his smile.  Nathan crossed and uncrossed his arms as he quickly reconsidered trying to hug her.  Just standing there for a moment, he had a good look at her.  And Honey looked good.  She was by far one of the prettiest girls he knew.  It had always been a mystery to him why such a beautiful, talented witch was friends with him at all.  Though if it was just to keep up the regular candy orders, he didn't mind.  As he studied her features he tried to remember the last time he’d actually lain eyes on her.  Some time ago?

“You’ll probably think this is really silly…” Nathan eventually spoke, “but there’s been an issue with the post and I thought maybe you were in trouble or something.  So I wanted to make sure… are you alright?”  Now concerned again because of her unhappy expression, he reflexively took one step closer.  “Cause I’m here to help if you need anything.”  His low voice rang with sincerity.  Helping her resolve the problem (whatever it was) was now his sole focus.

He followed her inside -- just like she thought he would -- and she sighed, not moving from her spot on the counter. “I know,” Honey said simply in response to his introduction. Nathan. She rolled his name around on her tongue with distaste. She probably wasn’t being fair -- he had shown up now, after all -- but he had wasted her time and she was keen to return the favor. She tilted her head as he spoke again, her mouth set in a hard line as she convinced herself to not laugh at his dumb joke, the perfect sort of joke that she loved. instead she drummed her fingers on the counter and sighed, watching him take a few steps closer.

If he had forgotten how to apologize, she was more than willing to help him remember. We planned drinks, I stood you up, she encouraged him silently, please, please forgive me. That was probably the only option at this point; the only option she’d accept, anyway. But her quiet encouragement went unheard, apparently. Nathan stood there and looked at her, and she sat there and looked back.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him in person. Most of their friendship was built through the post and owl orders and Honey had genuinely been looking forward to catching up over drinks. She crossed her arms across her chest as he started to speak again, willing the next words out of his mouth to be an apology. He didn’t get that memo, though; she raised her eyebrows as she listened to his concerns about the post. The post? Her post? The letter that morning? She smirked -- and tried to look as unhappy as possible while smirking -- as she hopped off the counter and leaned back against it instead.

“I’m fine.” It was about time he had asked. She didn’t paused to consider that maybe his apologies had been in one of those letters; she was far too focused on hearing it out loud. She straightened up and closed the distance between them before sticking one pointed finger squarely into his chest. “You’re the one that needs help.” She jabbed her finger a few times for emphasis. Dropping her hand, she shrugged. “Skipping out on our plans and then showing up here like it was no big deal.” Her words were quick and her accent thickened up a bit the more she talked. Rolling her eyes, Honey threw her hands up before crossing them across her chest again.

After another beat, she smirked again. “People don’t do that to me, y’know?”

Of course.  I'm the problem.

Nathan flinched as the angry red-head approached and made her point by poking him squarely in the chest.  But he didn't back away.  This was less than he deserved.  “You’re right.”  He said simply, meeting Honey’s light brown eyes with his own hazel ones.  Nathan certainly wasn't going to dispute the fact that he was a screw up.  He should never have stood her up.  There was no denying the error.  And it was true that Honey was not the kind of girl who probably got stood up often.  It should have meant more to him that she would give up her time to hang out with such a loser like him at all.  He hadn’t forgotten about their plans, he’d just… not expected it to matter to her. 

"I'm sorry.  I-"  Nathan stopped himself short.  He didn't know what to say.  He didn't want to make excuses.  And he couldn't promise that it would never happen again.  Nathan knew he had a bad habit of neglecting social plans.  What was it his ex had said? He didn't have his priorities right.  Sure, he'd been held up by some favour he’d been doing for a neighbour.  But had it been an emergency?  No.  Had it been urgent?  No again.  So Nathan wasn’t going to lie or pretend that he'd had no choice.  He could have said, Hey, maybe later.  I have plans right now, but in the end he'd chosen to let his plans with Honey lapse and that wasn't ok.  She deserved some kind of explanation but how could he explain why he was a bad friend when he didn’t fully understand it himself?

When Nathan finally spoke, his words weren't said with any sarcasm or attitude.  What came out was just pure and genuine truth.  "I didn't think you'd miss me."  He quickly looked away so that she wouldn't see the hint of sadness behind those words.  Nathan believed it as a fact that no one really wanted him around.  He placed no value on his own company and assumed that everyone else felt the same.  In Honey's case especially it was hard to see why someone so brilliant would have any interest in hanging out with him.  If she wanted, Honey could easily spend her time with more handsome, successful and even famous people. 

But the last thing Nathan should be doing right now was having a pity party.  He shouldn't be thinking about himself.  He should be thinking about the lovely witch standing in front of him.  So he took a deep breath and smiled, "I'm glad you're ok.”  At the end of the day that was all he really needed from Honey; to know that she was happy and well.  Whether or not she still wanted to be friends was her choice and he wouldn’t force his company on her.  Smiling more brightly, he tried to put on a jaunty spirit.  "But this is about you, not me...  I said I'd help you with your problem and the problem is that you have a friend who has been disrespecting you."  He put a hand on his chin and tried to look thoughtful.  "What to do with me?  Well, it would be hard to give myself a spanking...”  One eyebrow raised cheekily at Honey.  “Unless you could help?"  Laughing, he shook his head and hurried on before Honey had a chance to reply.  "If it was anyone else I'd tell you that they probably don't deserve your time and you should just forget about them.  But since it's me..."  He paused in mock consideration.  "I definitely don't deserve your time and you really should forget about me.” 

Turning he gestured (only half-jokingly) towards the door.  “I can show myself out if you want.”  Trying to be casual about it, the tall man shrugged his shoulders.  “I completely understand if you don’t want to see me again.”  It was the truth.  Rejection would come as no surprise to him and he expected it to be the inevitable outcome of all of his relationships.  And that was ok.  He’d long since convinced himself that he was fine with it.  But if Nathan didn’t really mind whether or not Honey told him to get lost… then why did his chest feel so tight?