âFlatter you,â Edgar challenged with an aghast expression and tone, staring wide eyed and incredulous that the witch would suggest that he was even capable of such a thing. âKat, my beloved friend, apple of my eye, my guiding light. I would never, ever, dream ofââ He cut himself off with a snicker he immediately struggled to stifle with little success. Edgar cleared his throat and carried on like the misstep never happened.Â
Still smirking that lopsided simper that brought his dimple to the surface, Edgar tucked Katherineâs hair behind her ear, musing, âIs it flattery if itâs the truth?â His wink was followed by a broader grin. The careless lift of his shoulders and slight shake of his head wordlessly contended her statement.
Instead of pushing the subject and his luck, he rounded his arm over his shoulders and started them on their way. Edgar winked at one of the other patrons as they passed, dismissing them the second their were out of his periphery and maintaining focus on the witch under his arm. âYou know,â he ducked his head a bit so that he could mutter a low timbre into her ear. âBy your reaction, one would think that your own beauty is lost on you.â
Edgar pulled far back enough away to give his dark haired companion a curious look. Eyebrows knit and frowned a little. She was beautiful. Could she really not know that? âWhy the fuck do you think Iâve taken all of your abuse over all these years? Because it gets my blood pumping?â Edgar shook his head and went on to joke, âPretty girls get away with everything. Come on, Kat. Donât act like you donât know exactly what youâre doing. Youâre so transparent. Fishing for compliments like I canât guess what youâre up to. Do you want me to say it then? Is that what this is?â
Looking put out and resigned to his fate, Edgar threw his head back with a groan before saying, âKatherine Iforgetyourmiddlename Pyrites, you are as beautiful as you are talented. Youâve never taken shite from anyone, and you are one of the toughest women I know. You take my fucking breath away. And thatâs the bloody truth of it.â After licking his lips to fight off his grin, Edgar turned his focus onto the woman under his arm with a raised eyebrow and a flat, âHappy now?â
A chuckle rumbled out from the pit of his lungs and Edgar used his arm around her shoulders to hook her in closer. He kissed her temple in affectionate apology for the scene heâd just caused before allowing her to fall back into step with him and continuing down the aisles. If she hit him right then not only would he not be surprised in the slightest, but there was the smallest chance that it was perhaps the smallest bit warranted.Â
âWiggenweld potion,â he confirmed with a smile, looking straight ahead as they continued their forward march. Tightening the circle of his arm behind her neck, he brought the small witch back in so he could mumble lowly, âWhen have you ever known me to stay out of trouble, Kat? You know good and well that thatâs not in my repertoire.â Another grin, chuckle, and sideways aimed wink before his focus was ahead of them again, lightly browsing the shelves as they passed.
Katherineâs question brought a bark of laughter out of Edgar. He grinned down at the witch beside him, who was staring right back up at him looking genuinely concerned for the state of his mental health. âMultiple times, actually,â revealed the blond in answer to whether or not heâd been tested at St. Mungos. âTheyâve started a loyalty program because of me, believe it or not. Visit nine times and on your tenth admittance you get a free consultation with a neuro specialist. Itâs a really good deal. You would not believe how difficult it is to book an appointment with a neuro specialist otherwise.â
Lifting a finger on the hand around her shoulders, he addressed her concern about where theyâd be brewing the potion in question. âYou recall that cuppa I invited you out for. Listen to this, I have a plan and itâs brilliant: you come home with me, we throw some ingredients into a cauldron, set it to simmer, sit at the table with a few cups of teaâŚâ Edgar waggled his eyebrows at the witch, prompting her with an excitable Ah, ahhh?
âWay I see it, Pyrites, my beautiful and accomplished friend, there are two possible answers here: an emphatic yes, or a resigned yes.â His shoulders bounced casually. Either way, he wasnât taking no for an answer.
Sheâd (stupidly, foolishly) thought that after his first misstep, where heâd swanned right into taking the piss, that heâd let the whole thing drop - this whole, this whole thing about beauty or whatever, but no. Nope, heâd taken what had been a throwaway comment about not flattering her, and somehow figured it was A Thing (how??) and was running away with.Â
She could feel herself turning scarlet, feel herself getting hot all over.Â
âIâm not fishing for compliments,â this was awful, this was hell, people were looking, âIâm smart, okay? I am not pretty and thereâs absolutely nothing wrong with that.â She had dirt underneath her fingernails, her hair was more often lank than it was clean, she could do with losing a few pounds, her nose was too big for her face, her eyes wonky and her knees looked like little old men faces, okay, this wasnât a case of fishing for compliments, this was a case of being realistic. âOhmygodyouneedtostop,â either he didnât know how loud his voice was, or it was on purpose - either way, it was going to be a good long while before she could show her face in here again.Â
She didnât care that the staff member had finally come out from the back with the items sheâd wanted, they could fucking owl them to her, they were leaving.Â
She was red because he was making a scene, not because he was complimenting her and handing out kisses like it was no big deal; as soon as they were out of the shop, the cold air welcomed against her heated cheeks, she punched him in the arm. âYou best beg I donât fucking poison that Wiggenweld potion of yours.â And then, because this was him, she continued with a hurried, âAnd I swear to fuck, if you get down to beg, Iâm kicking you in face, donât test me.â She would as well. Break his stupid nose. Itâd serve him right.Â
Her neck still felt warm from where his arm had been.Â
âIf Iâm coming back to yours,â sheâd fallen into alternate reality, it was the only way to make sense of this, nothing was going as it should, she needed to take control here, âthen youâre offering me more than just a brew. Alcohol,â she clarified, just in case heâd taken too many knocks to the head, âis what Iâm referring to here, you absolute fail of a human being.â