[mp] safe and sound â—‡ killian

february 2004

"You will let me read them, though, right?" Mavis asked, clasping her hands together and putting her chin on top, giving Killian the sweetest, most convincing look she could muster. Laying on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, dressed in her flannel pajama bottoms and a 3Spelled shirt, Mavis smiled up at him. She was laying on her tummy, her slippered feet crossed and pointing up toward the ceiling, with a stack of half-finished Valentine's notes scattered around her. Mavis's work area was messy, as it usually was, and there was glitter on the end of her nose (and just about everywhere else within the fallout zone).

The pair had gone to the entrance hall together, gathering up some blank notes and supplies to write their Valentines, and then ventured back to the Gryffindor tower. It was a pleasant enough day outside and a weekend, so the common room was relatively empty. It was chilly out, but the afternoon sun was melting the grounds quickly. Rays of sunlight peaked in through the crimson and gold curtains, warming the carpet Mavis was sprawled out on and giving her a giddy sort of energy. She was looking forward to spring, and Mavis wasn't the patient kind.

Despite it being the middle of the day, Mavis had wasted no time changing into her pajamas, excited for a lazy day inside with Killian. "Oh, c'mon, you can read mine?" She offered, though hers were probably far less elegant than the wizards.

@Killian Buckley

It was lovely outside, but Killian didn't really feel the need to go out and enjoy it. He had gone for a run around the lake that morning, the crisp air filling his lungs and the damp grass soaking his trainers. It had been nice. Quiet. A little lonely.

It was his day off -- Prefects got one a week, rotating through the seven days, and it had been a bit since his day off had been a weekend. He was determined to not waste it on schoolwork, like the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that --

Well. He deserved a break, didn't he?

And company. Killian hadn't said, but when Mavis had offered to go with him to get notes, to stay in and write with him, he had been grateful. It would have been lonely to work alone in the common room, with no music or even the crackle of the fire to fill the space.

Killian looked over at Mavis, sprawled out on the floor surrounded by glitter, and stifled a laugh. He wasn't quite as dressed down as her, wearing grey sweatpants with KING'S COLLEGE LONDON printed down one leg and a soft University of Edinburgh jumper. His legs and wool sock-clad feet were tucked under him on a pillow, Killian's back pressed against the base of the sofa. His workstation, on the low table in front of the fire place, was much more organized -- on his right, blank notes, his inkpot; in front of him, half a note to  Donna West, written in neat if large script with his fountain pen, a piece of blotting paper; on his left, a neat stack of finished notes, comprising of all the Gryffindor seventh years and all but one of the sixth years.

"Some of them," Killian said, one eyebrow raised but a smile dancing on his lips. "Not yours, though. Or Nola's, or Josie's!" A beat, and then he slid the note in front of him around so Mavis could see. "Here, d'you think she'll beat me up for this one?" It was a simple message, Happy Valentine's, thank you for all your work leading the Quidditch team, best, Killian Buckley, but Mavis would probably have a better sense if that was at all offensive. His hand ached -- but if Henry Murphy could write everyone in school birthday cards, the least Killian could manage was Valentine's for every Gryffindor.

(He had thought about every Prefect, and for his friends in other houses -- but his hand ached, so maybe he would see how he was feeling after.) 

"Nooo, Killian, you have to let me see them all, you know, for comparison." Mavis did not have a leg to stand on in this argument, but that had never stopped her before. And for a relatively short individual, she had reached impressive heights when it came to stubborn debates. "For context." She was just nosy, and Killian probably already knew that. Mavis scrunched her nose up at him playfully when he slid one of his notes her way. It wasn't all of them, but it was a start, at least.

Scanning the note he showed her, Mavis's dark brown eyes met Killian's with a shrug. "Don't think so; it's not rude or anything if that is what you're after?" Donna West was easily one of the coolest Gryffindors in school, she was the Quidditch captain, tough as nails, and she had beautiful hair (even though she kept it tied back all the time). Mavis's fingers moved to silky black hair as she thought about it and curled a loose strand around her index. "She's friends with my sister," Mavis offered, though it wasn't pertinent information, her head tilting to the side as she unknowingly twisted sparkles into her hair.

"Are you planning to write one to the whole school?" The witch asked him, turning back to her notes and the one she'd barely begun for Magnolia. The thought of writing more than ten of these was exhausting to her, especially since she had signed herself up for more work than she should have when deciding to include poems in each of them. "Do you know any words that rhyme with pulchritudinous?"

She scrunched her nose at him, eyes squinting as her face pulled into a mock frown, and Killian couldn't help but laugh. "No!" He insisted, but Killian didn't seem too serious about it. "I haven't even started the fifth years, anyway!"

He watched her scooch to the edge of the table, watched her carefully for feedback. "Not rude," he repeated, some relief slipping into his voice. "Good." Esther Nandamuri's was in his stack of completed ones, as he ran down the list alphabetically, by the last name, in reverse year order. "I'm less scared of Esther, though. Hers is --" he shrugged, his cheeks growing dark with embarrassment, "much the same." He didn't know her well! It seemed normal!

"Not the whole school -- just the whole house," said Killian, trying not to let any of his anxiety about the project show through. "Maybe some of the prefects and friends in other houses. But definitely all of Gryffindor." He paused. "D'you think that's stupid?" His voice was a little more vulnerable, a little more anxious. If only he was better at the automatic writing charm. "Oh, uh - perfidious?" Meaning deceitful, or duplicitous. Killian frowned. "No, how about -- fastidious." As in paying attention to detail.

His eyes caught on the glitter in her hair. Killian reached for his wand, then thought better of it -- what if he yanked out the whole lock? "You got, some," he motioned to his own hair, "some glitter, there."

Mavis believed what Killian had said, that he hadn't started writing notes for the squad yet, but she still stuck her tongue out at him. "Esther is all talk... except for when you steal her hairbrush..." Mavis started her sentence with a lot more nerve than she was able to finish it with, the memory of being chased around the house and whacked with the comb during winter break still fresh in her mind.

"Wait, the whole house?" Mavis asked, blinking at her friend, impressed that he was willing to make one for every Gryffindor. Mavis, on the other hand, probably didn't even know every Gryffindor's name. Silently, she wondered if he got a list from Professor Ajay or if he was just that nice of a person. "No, I think it's sweet." She smiled up at him from where she was lying and suddenly felt quite inadequate. Mavis could barely work herself up to writing notes for her best friends, and here he was making every single Gryffindor feel special. Killian was by far one of the best people she knew; if anyone had a right to be chosen as Prefect, it was him.

Crawling on her stomach until it became too much work, Mavis sat up to move closer to Ki. She wiggled into the space between the sofa and the low table, her back against the base, and her side smushed up against his. "Perfidious?", she covered her giggle with the ends of her fingers, shaking her head at the suggestion. Mavis cherished their little group of friends, everyone brought something unique to the table, but she especially enjoyed time with Killian. For a pair of Gryffindors, they were pretty big nerds, and she loved his extensive knowledge of vocabulary.

"Oh, fastidious~" She half sang, half spoke, looking at him brightly, "That is a good one." Mavis leaned toward where she had left a giant mess on the floor, the back of her 3Spelled shirt riding up slightly and exposing her back. Collecting her fluffy quill, sparkly ink-well, and the half-written note to Magnolia, she sat back up. Her eyes found Killian's again, and she laughed. "I'm sorry, did you say you wanted some glitter?"

Killian chuckled, watching Mavis' face change. The image of the two sisters running about the house was amusing -- he and Nora had been like that, ages ago before she was a genius and he was a wizard. "Good thing I didn't steal her brush, then."

"Whole house," Killian confirmed, meeting her blinking with a smile and wide, slightly alarmed eyes. Christ, but there were a lot of Gryffindors, weren't there? He had almost everyone's name memorized, but he kept the house roster tucked into a pocket, just so he wouldn't forget anyone. That would be so embarrassing, Killian was sure he would die on the morning of the 14th. Mavis thought it was sweet -- his cheeks burned, he could feel them dropping a shade darker than the rest of his skin. "Oh, good."

She sat up, squishing herself besides him on the floor in front of the couch. "You could sit on the couch, if you wanted," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "This is just more comfortable, for me." He felt weird, bad sometimes, for his penchant for sitting on the floor when there were perfectly good chairs or other sitting furniture available, but sometimes he just -- it was floor time! He couldn't explain it without sounding demented.

Fastidious was good. Killian grinned. "Who's this poem for, then?" he asked as she leaned forward. It struck him before he had the thought to avert his ideas, how nice it was that he and Mavis had the same skin tone. He didn't feel dark or light next to her, the way he did next to his parents or their white friends. He shook his head, looking back at the note in front of him before Mavis returned. Signed his name and adding Donna's note to the completed stack.

"What?" Killian laughed, leaning back as if to avoid an attack of glitter. "No, you just, got some right -- here..." He lifted his hand, gently removing a flake of glitter from Mavis' hair.

Killian was going to write to every lion at Hogwarts, and Mavis could not hide how impressive that was. "Wow," She whispered after he confirmed, her lips forming a little 'o' shape with the end of the word. "Well, that is what a good Prefect does, innit?" Mavis had been a little disheartened when she hadn't gotten the Prefect's badge alongside Killian. Not because she was particularly responsible or because she had every housemate's name memorized, but just because it would have been a lot of fun. At least, she had imagined it must have been. Killian always seemed energized when he returned from shifts with Billie, the Ravenclaw Prefect.

Scooting to sit beside him, Mavis got comfortable quickly and shook her head at his over. "I like it down here better," She admitted, tucking a bit of glittery hair behind her ear. "You're always sitting on the floor, though, aren't you?" Over the years, she had learned a lot about her friend, but she had never thought about that before. It was funny that she was fixated on it now. "Why is that?" She asked before leaning forward to collect her materials. Mavis was not incredibly artistic, she could sing, but no one would want to listen, and her poetry certainly left something to be desired, but that didn't mean the little witch was going to stop. Despite not being good at anything artistic, she was wildly creative. "It's for Nola. Do you think she will like it?" With a teensy bit of worry in her eyes, Mavis still felt the undying need to impress even her best friends. Being a teenager was hard.

While Mavis had not been planning to get glitter all over Killian, the way he leaned away from her preemptively made her giggle and reconsider. Eventually, the sparkles would be everywhere, anyway, so there was no use in denying the inevitable. Mavis held up her fluffy pink quill, the one Michael had helped her secure in Diagon Alley, like a wand, but let it drop back to her side as Killian brushed a bit of glitter from her hair. "Oh, um, thanks," She said tentatively, tucking the piece of hair back behind her ears and feeling quite a bit warmer than before. She stared at him for a moment, quieter than she typically was, before her eyes darted away in search of something—anything—to say.

"I like your fountain pen."

Killian felt his cheeks get warmer under Mavis's gaze, averting his eyes from her apparent awe. "Nah, come off it, you're making me feel stupider than this already is." Still, he did smile a little bit at the praise. He was certainly trying so hard to be a good prefect, aspiring to Henry Murphyism in his term. Not so much Jeremy Edwards standards, though. That had been an extra chaotic part of an already chaotic introduction to the wizarding world, having that guy as Gryffindor prefect. "You'd do better than me, I'd bet." How had he been chosen but not Mavis? Killian wondered this often, knowing that the male and female prefects were chosen separately and that she couldn't have been passed over for him, but. She would have been good at it, Ki was sure. At least as good as Donna, if not better.

"What's wrong with the floor?" Killian said defensively. She didn't look like she was making fun of him for it, though -- she had just said she liked it down here better, hadn't she? There was warmth radiating off her as she slid next to him. "It's just, I dunno. Better. Sometimes. Feels more grounded, having all of my leg touch the floor?" It sounded like he was mental when it put it like that. "I can focus a little better. I drum my feet too much, sitting normally."

Would Nola like it? Killian snorted. "She'll frame it, probably. She's such a romantic, Nola is." And when Mavis was next to her, the pair of them thick as thieves, Mavis seemed to be like that, too. That was the version of Mavis that was normally around, Killian thought, but here, just the two of them, she was always more... calm. Nerdy, maybe. Grounded. Like they were now.

Her laugh was pretty, Killian noticed, in a way he hadn't ever considered before. He was thinking that as he flicked the glitter out of her hair, was still thinking it when he pulled away. "No worries," he said, voice a little lower when he turned back to his stack of notes.

I like your fountain pen.

"I like you–" Killian cut himself off, the end of the sentence (yours, too) dying as he glanced over at Mavis' quill, which was obviously not a fountain pen, so therefore yours, too made no sense and wait where had he cut off the sentence?

Killian's face dropped a shade darker, ears so hot he was sure steam was coming off them. "I didn't mean -- I like your quill, is all, I meant, but like obviously I like you, we're great friends and I think you're fantastic and --" Killian pressed his fist to his mouth to stop the torrent of words. "Sorry."

He pulled one of the blank notes out of the stack, momentarily foregoing his order by addressing it to MAVIS NANDAMURI right at the top. "Dear Mavis, thank you for being my friend, even though I am a big dunce who cannot talk like a normal person. Yours, Killian." He left space between the message and the signature, intending to fill it in with a real message later, but slide it over in front of the girl. "Here. free preview." 

"No, I doubt that," Mavis replied sweetly, conveying support in her friend and self-doubt in one swoop, and shrugged. She would have loved to be a Prefect, but she probably wouldn't have been very good at it. She'd have plenty of lists, but Mavis would never remember all of their housemate's names. Nor would she write them all cards, even if she did. It would be a lie to say she hadn't been jealous when Killian told them he had been chosen, and she had not been, but it was short-lived. There was no use being jealous of Killian, primarily when she could focus that energy on the witch who had gotten the other Gryffindor Prefect slot. That witch certainly wasn't on Mavis' note list.

"Nothing, nothing," Answering quickly, Mavis held back a little giggle; she recognized the look on his face as he wound up for a proper explanation in true Killian style. "That makes sense, I s'pose..." Mavis trailed off, her eyes moving away from Killian's face and toward his feet, wondering if they still drummed on the floor. "Well, I like it down here too, then," She announced, wiggling a little where she was sitting, bumping into Killian slightly, and giggling. It was pretty comfortable; Mavis liked being able to stretch her legs and sit closer to him.

Showing off the single card she had finished, glitter practically dripping from the bottom, Mavis was pleased by Killian's response. "You are so right. I guess we will have to add frames to our shopping list this weekend." The list was ever-growing, naturally, not that Mavis' minded. She loved spending the whole afternoon in the village buying things she didn't need and drinking butterbeer. The more sugary liquid she had, the less she worried about OWL prep, so it was a welcomed respite. "Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade this Saturday?"

Killian brushed glitter from her hair, and Mavis fought the urge to powder his nose with the sparkles at the end of her quill. He was nice, but she felt mischievous, or maybe it was a nervous energy in disguise. They rarely hung out one-on-one, and Mavis was beginning to ask why. Killian was fun to be around; he was super smart, thoughtful, charming, and he ... liked her?!

"I like you–"

If she were a cartoon character, Mavis's jaw would have crashed through the red carpet floor and all the way down the Gryffindor tower. "You what?" She whispered, unable to peel her eyes off of him despite how much her cheeks burned. He liked her? Killian Buckley liked her? Mavis heard nothing else. Even as he began to backtrack, she only heard good things. They were great friends, and he thought she was fantastic, and he liked her. Giggling again as he covered his mouth, Mavis smiled at Killian. This was excellent news. She watched him turn to his stack of notes and begin addressing the next one; Mavis leaned closer to see what he was writing so quickly and saw her name on the parchment.

As Killian slid the note toward her, the teenage witch scanned it, and then once more, before turning back to him. "You are not a dunce," She asserted first because first things first, and then smiled. "And I like talking to you." Normal people were boring, she felt like she'd read that on one of Magnolia's inspirational throw pillows, but she didn't mention it. Mavis turned away from him to grab a blank note from her stack, her back to Killian as she hurried to scribble a message for him on the letter in secret. When she had finished, Mavis turned her whole body back toward him, tucked her legs under her so that she was facing him, and held out the note for him to read.

I like you, too.

Mavis nuzzled up besides him, and Killian felt his smile get wider with very little input from his own brain. "Well, welcome to floor time, then." It made him feel slightly less ridiculous to sit beside someone down here, instead of knocking his head against someone's leg.

Hogsmeade? The skin between Killian's eyes wrinkled momentarily, trying to place wherein his cluttered brain the evet labelled Hogsmeade, shopping, this Saturday had fallen out. "Saturday?" Killian repeated. "It's Valentine's, isn't it? I'd've thought you'd all have dates or somesuch." And it's Billie's birthday, said a quiet voice, filling in why the day had been crossed out of his mental schedule. "But, I mean, I could, I'm sure I could for a bit. I don't have rounds until that evening." It seemed like a good idea, a shopping trip with the girls, the longer he thought about it. A good chance to get some sort of carefully selected gift for Billie, and perhaps get the girls' input on what a good present was for someone he used to have a crush on, but lately was feeling way more normal around. Was there a word for that? Between Mavis and Nola, one of them had to know.

You what?

Killian thought a string of rude words all at once, eyes wide as he watched himself babble into the air. Mavis was laughing at him -- he must look a buffoon, or else this was some sort of joke, he wouldn't put it past the girls to have some sort of bet on this, how long until he confessed some crush on one of them. He had nearly talked himself into some terrible no good evil situation when he looked at Mavis and saw her easy, open, genuinely pleased smile amid her own blush.

She leaned over to read the note -- Ki angled his body so he could finish it in peace. He didn't look at her as she read it, just nodding as Mavis responded to each line. Well, she didn't seem offended, which was good, right? Killian could hear the scratching of a quilltip next to him. He tilted his head, not looking at what Mavis was writing, just what she was writing on, a fresh note from her stack.

I like you, too, it read when Killian was allowed to see. Killian blinked. Oh, he thought. "Oh," Killian said, at a momentary loss for words. The moment passed. "Uh, so when you say that, d'you me, like as in friends or like as in --" he swallowed, "-- you know." Like like, he thought but managed to keep from saying. "Just, uh, so we're on the same piece of parchment."

He thought briefly of Billie and how she would say whatever she thought the other person wanted to hear, when put on the spot like this, and added on -- "Either is fine, really." Was either fine? He hadn't had a crush for months and months on Mavis, sure, but -- it wasn't like there hadn't been some uncommon tenderness in removing the glitter from her hair. Wasn't like he wouldn't be happy to hear that Mavis had feelings for him. Wasn't like he didn't want to sling an arm round her shoulders now, pull her closer as they worked. It wasn't like he didn't like like her, now that he let himself think it.

Of course, Mae had known that Saturday was Valentine's Day, the girls had used up an entire pink inkwell circling the date in their calendars, but she shrugged when Killian asked. Pretending like she hadn't been counting the days since the start of February was easier than hiding her disappointment about being dateless. "Well, Nola has given Horus proper instructions, but I thought we were all still going in the morning for breakfast." Had she made up the entire plan in her head and forgotten to ask her friends to join her? It probably would not have been the first time. Killian mentioned his rounds, and Mavis clasped her hands together excitedly, "Perfect, it's settled then." Breakfast was always more fun with friends.

And after what he had just said, Mavis found herself looking forward to spending more time with Killian, especially. Well... Unless she had made all of that up in her head too. He was blinking at her, quiet and then asking for clarification, and suddenly Mavis felt very small. "Oh, um," She scrambled, eyes darting away from him. Mavis had thought she understood his meaning, but it was not unlike her to jump to conclusions. The Gryffindor was known to bottle her potions before they were brewed, and it seemed she had done it again. Foot firmly in her mouth, she was close to panicking.

"Either is fine, really."

Why were boys so dumb and confusing? Mavis's eyes clung to anything in the room that was not Killian. Either was fine; what was that supposed to mean? Deep down, she knew it was his way of giving her an out, trying to diffuse the situation or make her more comfortable — Killian was a good friend in that way— but it only served to confuse her more. Five minutes ago, Killian was one of her closest friends, and then he'd said all of three words, and the entire paradigm had shifted. She was silent, her cheeks warmer for every second that passed by, as she considered her feelings. Mavis had always enjoyed being around Killian, he never made her feel silly for being clever, and he was easy to talk to. She was pretty sure she knew exactly what she had meant.

Slowly she turned back toward him, a nervous half-smile on her face. Killian was friendly, kind, and she had always thought he was reasonably cute. "I like sitting on the ground with you." She offered, watching his reaction intently. Her stomach did a summersault, and she felt equal parts energized and terrified by the feeling. Her cheeks tingled, warm and nervous, and Mavis summoned every bit of Gryffindor strength and girl-power she had. "And I like like you."

Breakfast? "Cool!" Killian nodded, eyes slightly far away as he clearly slots it into his mental calendar in a methodical way. He wish he had his real planner, but that was up in his room and he didn’t feel inclined to move yet. Mavis seemed too excited, it was too funny. Breakfast? Jesus, how early did Mavis intend for them to get to the village? The brunch places had all been sold out for weeks for that Saturday. Killian resolved himself to swipe some sort of pastry the night before. Just in case the girls slept in. Not he thought they would be late, but he was fairly certain they'd be late.

Mavis was turning red, which was a feat given the way melanin worked. Killian’s face still felt warm, but he was somewhat reassured that Mavis was clearly feeling the same way. Her eyes were darting around the room, looking anywhere but at him. Meanwhile he couldn't look anywhere else, wrapped as he was at letting himself see Mavis as a Girl with an Uppercase G. The longer he let himself think about Mavis this way, the more he was baffled that Killian had never caught a crush on her before. Maybe that was because he had locked her into that box of “just friends!” for five years. Had locked pretty much all the girls in his life into that box, really. Billie, somehow, had gone from outside that box to firmly in it — maybe it made sense that Mavis could move the other way through that membrane.

It must be proximity making him stupid. Oh god. Maybe this was stupid. What if Killian had misread everything and ruined it by bringing up his confusion? Would she ghost him, like she had poor Freddie? That had already been a feat and a half, given they were in the same year and house. Killian had been in an awkward position that week, in his room with Freddie and MacTaggert ribbing the both of them and Killian just trying to hang out with the girls.

Which, thinking about that scenario suddenly being Killian's scenario was insane to think about! Was he going insane right now?  “I like when you sit on the ground with me,” Killian said, cringing at how stupid that sounded the moment it left his mouth. What the hell was this?

But -- his ears burned. She actually did like him, which was ever more insane than everything else happening. Killian paused to cap his fountain pen, sucking in a deep breath. Okay. So. He has realized that one of his good friends is actually quite fit and funny and makes him happy and suddenly come to the realization that he would like to be closer to her. And Mavis has apparently gotten to the same conclusion, thought Killian wasn't confident on the timeline of that. So. They both liked each other. now what. Did they, what, shake on it?

Nah. But. Was he supposed to kiss her now? That seemed awful fast. He knew Mavis hasn’t been kissed before, wondered if she wanted to be kissed in this moment. Does he want to kiss her? It sounds nice, and it sounds like the thing to do, once one admits to mutual like-like with a girl. Killian let his eyes drop down to Mavis' lips quickly, deciding that while pashing immediately would certainly be embarrassing, he wouldn't be opposed to it. But it would be her first kiss, and somewhat less importantly it would be his first kiss too. Was this where and when that should happen?

Nora would know what to do, bloody insufferable genius that she was.

The clock ticked behind them, and Killian became aware that he had been staring for far too long without saying anything. Maybe he should start smaller. Killian reached out his right arm, fountain pen forgotten, and draped it lightly across Mavis’ shoulders. “Is this alright, then?” He asked, concern in his voice. “Just, I like-like you too.”

“I like when you sit on the ground with me,” Killian’s words were reassuring, and they quieted some of the internal panics in Mavis’s mind. The witch offered him a crooked smile before continuing. Mavis was a mess when it came to a lot of things. The girl could not bake a proper biscuit to save her life, she was always getting scolded for shouting across the Great Hall at meals, and Mavis tended to lose track of time, but she did have that trademark Gryffindor Boldness. And being the first to admit that she like liked Killian was something she was equipped to do.

The wizard had said he liked her sitting on the ground with him, and she took that as a good sign. It might not have been an Earth-Shattering Declaration of Love, the sort one might find in the steamy novels she borrowed (and rarely returned) from Nola, but it was something. And she hadn’t been expecting something more, anyways, considering she had only just begun to unravel her feelings. And if the conversation had moved on from there, Mavis probably would have been happy enough with that, but there Killian was, staring at her silently, and that made her nervous. Little bits of fear flickered in and out, but it was anxiety that was surrounding her now. Is he going to kiss me? She wondered, her eyes widening as the thought occurred. She mentally went over the checklist she had studied with the girls in last month’s Witch Weekly: 1. Don’t move first. 2. Tilt your head. 3. Don’t bump his nose. 4. Close your eyes… there was more… what was the rest!?

Mavis noticed Killian’s eyes as they moved down her face, and her cheeks burned. Lips dry, the witch silently wished she had a moment to apply some lip gloss because that was what girls who got kissed did? Right? She should have studied that checklist a little more. This was about to be her First Kiss, and she was wholly unprepared. It was a nightmare, but also super exciting! Mavis almost didn’t want to blink and miss some unspoken cue. And despite being unprepared, she decided, right at that moment, that she was ready to be kissed.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, Killian wrapped his arm around her, and she let go of the breath she had been holding. “Yeah, yeah, this is alright,” Mavis answered quickly, a little more energetically than she had meant to, and leaned toward him. Settling against his side, in the little crook his arm around her shoulder offered, Mavis smiled. “This is good.” And she meant it. Of course, there was some small part that had been eager to get her First Kiss, but there was also relief and hope for future chances. (And time to do research and adequately formulate her own checklist.) Mavis heard the uncertainty in Killian’s question, but then he admitted that he liked-liked her too, and she felt powerful. A big smile grew on her face, and Mavis giggled as she teased him.

“Well, who wouldn’t? I’m awesome.”

Mavis said it was alright. The nervous knot in the pit of Killian's stomach unwound. She was leaning into him, filling that space under her arm and along the side of his chest so nicely. He could smell her shampoo, fresh and clean, in her hair. And Mavis was smilling, he could feel her cheeks lift and press against him, and he couldn't help but smile too.

Well, who wouldn’t? I’m awesome. Killian couldn't help but laugh, the vibrations of it rumbling through his chest. "And so modest," he teased back, pulling his arm and Mavis a little bit closer, pressing his face against her temple. It felt warm and her hair was soft -- he pressed a small kiss on her hairline, instinctively feeling like it was the right thing to do. doubt set in, of course, immediately after, when it was too late to ask permission. Ki pulled his head -- just his head, mind -- back a little bit, looking at Mavis again. "Was that too much?" he asked, more confident than his last question but still seeking approval. "Cause I think I'd do a lot of that, if you wanted to be my girlfriend. Or like me to be your boyfriend. Which, uh, would be the same thing, I think."

With his free hand he scratched at the back of his head, eyes looking slightly above Mavis' head as he thought. That had felt nice, and he was looking at Mavis' lips again, and Mavis had seemed to be looking at his...

"Sometime," Killian said, carefully, gaze flitting between Mavis' eyes and lips without nearly enough shame, "between, uh, right now, and whenever you're ready, I'd like to kiss you. Proper."

Settled up against his side, Mavis felt good about where they were right now. Five minutes ago was hectic, and everything that happened after this was nerve-wracking in the very best of ways, but right now was pretty much perfect. The gentle kiss surprised her, and she felt goosebumps run down her cheek and the side of her neck. Mavis imagined she might like more of that down the road. The teen realized that it wasn't just her first kiss she was looking forward to, but so much more. Forehead kisses, holding hands, hugs between classes, always having someone to sit next to, and everything in between.

In the time between two moments, the teenage witch somehow joined Killian on the same level, and his question had her nodding immediately, her cheek still pressed against him. "Not at all," She whispered, answering his question and craning her neck a little to see his face. Killian had pulled away, but not enough that she could see him quickly, and she didn't want him to move further. She'd trade meeting his eye for staying close; it was comfortable here. Especially as he said the significant words: Girlfriend and Boyfriend, and they rang like a bell in her mind. Girlfriend and Boyfriend were basically the Most Serious label Mavis could imagine, but it didn't scare her. She was anxious, but it was like reaching the top of a roller coaster, and she was excited about the drop.

And Killian's endearing way of ending the thought relaxed even the loudest of her nerves. "Yeah, think it would be the same." She commented on that part first because it was more accessible and funnier and then nodded again. "But I would… like to be, I mean." Her eyes slid down his face, finding his lips again; Mavis wondered if this was going to be the moment. Thinking it might be, her heart sped up again. "Sometime," He said, and Mavis held her breath again; it caught in her throat, and she held still. "between, uh, right now, and whenever you're ready, I'd like to kiss you. Proper." This boy was going to kill her with anticipation.

"I would like that too," Mavis replied, her chest falling slightly, but she wasn't disappointed, not really. It was sweet of him to want to do it proper and all. And immediately, she started imagining perfect First Kiss scenarios. Mavis wanted to tell him that she was ready right this very moment, but that felt off somehow. Like by saying now she was asking him to kiss her, and maybe he wasn't prepared, and she didn't want Killian to feel pressured by it. And he'd implied that this wasn't the right moment, so that would have forced it. But it did leave many questions in the air, and Mavis hated when she didn't know the plan. "So like, um," Mavis fell silent for a moment, scrunching her eyebrows a little as she considered how to ask the following question without sounding like a total doofus. "Should I tell you when or…" Wouldn't that be the same as asking when? How was this supposed to work? The Witch Weekly said absolutely nothing about scheduling your First Kiss.