Odd; I must have missed one.
Her hand was still holding mine; I looked down at it, my heart pinching at the sight. She let it go quickly and set back to work. I shook my head, willing the comfort of her to leave me.
Angus, Murt, and a few others I didn’t know the names of yet showed up with an array of other bits and bobs: kitchen cutlery, a few pots and pans, several quilts, teacups, and, to my great delight, a few heirloom tomato seeds someone had been holding on to.
Thankfully, they also carried a large bag of pastries and a canteen of coffee. Before I could adequately thank them, they scurried away, claiming to not want to interrupt my work. They promised they would come back first thing tomorrow to check in and that they had told all of Dwindle not to disturb me for the day.
I decided to sit under the willow andtryto enjoy a spot of breakfast. Albeit it was well into the evening, but a first meal—no matter the time of day—should always be considered breakfast. I rested my head against the tree, savoring thehoney sweetness of the lavender-and-blueberry scone now dancing on my tongue. A moan of pleasure escaped my mouth, acutely reminding me of last night and the devilishly, painfully beautiful warrior inside the cottage. Her mouth on mine, her ravishing me until my body trembled, our hearts beating together as one.
Stay focused, I scolded myself. Throwing myself into work had always been my strong suit, and it was either that or burn up all over again for Hesper Altanfall.
But my fingers were trailing the places on my face that she had kissed—a path of embers still burning there for her—and I accidentally touched the flower she had tucked into my hair. The petals fell.
All yellow. A familiar, golden sheen coating each one.
A single buttercup.
When life gives you lemons, make an absolute fool of yourself.
—opening line attempt 234
Here’s the plan.” I slapped a piece of paper down on the wooden table in the kitchen.
Watery sunlight poured through the windows, casting pale light over our morning. Edge was leafing (er—clawing) through a tome he had placed on the kitchen sink. Warty sat atop the pages, nibbling a cracker. When Edge needed to turn the page, he flapped the crumbs off with his wings, plucked Warty up, turned to the next page, then set him back down again.
Hesper stood across from me, sipping her morning tea; I opted for a morning coffee, of course.
She braced her forearms on either side of the table, her tunic sleeves rolled up, her hair still tousled from a good night’s rest, and she thumbed at the scar above her lip.
I wonder what her lips taste like in the morning, my heart pondered.
“For the week?” Hesper’s eyes were still on the paper, so filled with inky scribbling it puddled onto the table.
“Like honey and lemons,” I heard myself say, answering my heart’s question. Out loud. Very much into the air. Where Hesper very much heard it.
The flipping of pages ceased. The munching of crackers disappeared.
Fuck.
“What?” Hesper asked, because of course, that’s the natural question.
“Uh—oh—it’s the—” I scratched the back of my head, but Iunfortunatelyforgot my mug was still in that hand and dumped a bit (a lot) of coffee all over myself. Which then set off a sequence ofunfortunateevents because I then dropped the mug, and when I went down to grab it, I bumped my head on the sink, which caused Edge to fly away and Warty to throw his crackers on the ground in surprise.
So.
“Are you all right?” Hesper rushed over, checking my head.
“I havegenuinely, and I mean this, never been better,” I said, sporting an eerily large smile.
“Are you sure?” Hesper looked at me as if I were a strange, peculiar being who fell from the stars and had no idea how to interact with the earth. Let alone people.
“Yes!” I forced out. “And anyway, it’s for the day.” I rubbed at the front of my aching head.
“Honey and lemons for the day?” Hesper attempted to clarify.
I let out a girlish squeak. A sound that made me wonder if my existence on earth was entirely merited.
“Oh,you.” I slapped her arm.
