#I hope the fifth book - which is thicker - will see me through the two shifts I have next week

[fics-not-tragedies]

White Christmas: Part Two ❄

one - two - three - four

Tumblr isn’t working at all and I want to punch it, but I was finally able to post the second part.

Words: 3777; Warnings: smut, that library scene from Atonement, but with Hiddles; Summary: You and Tom decide to ditch the main event and spend some time on your own in the library.

Hiddleston tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight​​​; @kinghiddlestonanddixon​​​; @penwieldingdreamer​​; @jessiejunebug​;

You smiled, slowly moving your hand to cover his resting on the railing. He blew the smoke out towards the gardens, not turning his head to look at you this time.

“I am” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently, “But as you said, I will try my best to enjoy all of it” you said, shivering slightly as the cold breeze danced around your almost bare shoulders.

“You’re freezing, darling” he remarked suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts and he trapped his cigarette between his lips, sliding his arms out of his suit jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

The scent of it intoxicated you instantly, the smoke more prominent now, but there was also a much stronger sense of his eau de cologne. It just made you want to be closer to him, “Thank you, Tom” you said quietly.

He waved it off, resting his elbows on the railing and taking another drag from his cigarette. Tom took another drag from his cigarette before discarding it, and his head sank down on your shoulder, his eyes closed and you felt his body relaxing, hesitantly wrapping your arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm lightly. With one quick motion, he suddenly lifted his head, standing straight. “We should get back inside” he stated confidently, clearing his throat, giving you a small smile.

You were surprised, taken aback for a moment, “W-Why?” you asked, “Oh, you want that dance I still owe you?”

A smile spread across his face, your heart fluttering from the sheer sight. “Indeed, darling…” he smirked, “And then let’s run away somewhere, what you think about that?”

You raised your eyebrows, “What?”

Your bewilderment amused him and he nudged you playfully as he took your hand into his properly, slowly leading you back inside, leaving the gardens behind you, unaware of the snow starting to fall, sparkly snowflakes falling like gold stars in the moonlight, beginning to transform the city, the estate, the magical streets into a winter wonderland, dipping Christmas into a white sparkle.

“Let’s get out of here, smuggle few bottle of the pricey champagne out of here and have our own party.”

Your eyes widened at his casual words, he was absolutely remarkable and you were dying to know what he meant, intrigued, the thought of being alone with him, really alone, it had your skin tingling with anticipation.

“Your friends have it all under control…” he assured you as he caught you looking around anxiously, knowing exactly what you were worried about, “I assure you.”

You licked your lips, slowly turning your head to look back at him, realising you were still wrapped up in his jacket, quickly moving it off your shoulders and handing it back to him, “I don’t know…” you said slowly.

He smirked, “Is it what you want, darling?” he asked, sliding back into his suit jacket.

The look on his face melted the remaining sense that was left in you, giving in to what you really wanted, which was to just do anything he wanted, to follow this gorgeous, fascinating man wherever he pleased, “It is” you confirmed.

“Then promise me one thing before you have me wrapped around your finger on the dancefloor again.”

Your eyes grew wider, your curiosity about him peaking, “Thomas… anything.”

“Let me take you home. I know we’ve just met but you’ve put a spell on me. Let me get to know you, let me start the rest of tonight with you.”

His words made your knees weak, sent your heart racing. The way his large blue eyes were locked on yours, it was all too much and you couldn’t find the right words to tell him yes, yes to all of those things, yes, because you were absolutely enthralled by him, yes, because he made the simplest promise so poetic, yes, because you couldn’t believe you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

You got on your tiptoes and cupped his face into your hands, brushing your thumbs over his smooth skin and before you could change your mind, you finally closed the space between your faces, capturing his lips in a kiss, in an attempt to express all those things you couldn’t quite say with words.

Tom snaked his arm around your waist instantly, pulling your body flush against his. You could taste the strong liquor on his tongue, the smoke, and a hint of a mint. More than ever before you could breathe him in, feel him everywhere, taking over your every sense, his fingers moving to the back of your neck, his arms warm around you, his scent, the taste of his soft lips moving with yours, a kiss stretching out into eternity, it was like time stood still, there were you and him and the music.

He drew back too soon and the way his eyes fluttered open and watched you had you almost melt into a puddle in his arms, the softness in them taking your breath away. Once again, you relied on him understanding you without words, and the smile on his swollen lips said it all, the flush in his cheeks for once showing that you made him feel as flustered as he did you.

His voice merely a whisper, he repeated the question you anticipated ever since you laid eyes on him across the room, the promise to whisk you away to the dancefloor to help you forget about everything else. But he had that effect on and off the dancefloor, he had this way about him that made the world around you seem quite surreal.

“May I?”

You smiled, licking your lips, this time accepting right away, “You may” you responded, “But I am a good girl Tom…” you breathed and he cocked his eyebrows, “I will let you take me home, but only after the fifth date… so tonight, let’s snatch few bottles of champagne and move the party to the library, it’s an absolutely stunning one.”

“Why the library doesn’t surprise me, darling?” he asked you, slowly leading you inside.

You lost yourself in the stacks again.

You run your fingers reverently along the book spines and clouds of dust roil in her wake. Tom has promised to get the champagne and meet you here, but it seems like something stopped him on his way, so you’ll just occupy yourself with all of the rarities gathered in here. You never gone long without the weight of a book in your hands.

They were taking you to different worlds, fantastical lands and outer space and timelines where things happened differently. They aren’t newspapers filled with information about events that happened recently or magazines with useless tricks and tips that are supposed to help you look better. They’re just books, dived into and explored for nothing more than the pleasure of reading itself. You read and escape, plunging into one book and coming up for just a moment before slipping into another.

When a shadow fell across the page of the book you were reading, so thoroughly blocking out the light that you could no longer see a single word, you knew instantly that it was Tom, who just got back from the scavenger hunt for champagne. You suppressed the shiver that was slowly making its way up your spine, and ignored the sudden goosebumps across your almost bare arms at his mere presence, and instead turned the page.

“I got the champagne for us, darling” his lips were close to your neck and his hot breath elicited another shiver that shook your body.

“Mhmm” you breathed out, too focused on the tiny letter that were covering the page you had in front of yourself to pay proper attention to him.

“What are you reading, darling?” Tom asked, leaning with his chin onto your arm, trying to catch a glimpse of the text.

“Shakespeare” you breathed out and could feel the shift in his mood, the way he pressed himself closer to you, placing the bottle of champagne along with the glasses he held onto the small table to your right, before his arm sneaked around your waist and pulled you closer.

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” he slowly whispered into your ear, dragging out each word as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his accent thicker with every word making you suppress a moan that was clearly going to escape from your mouth.

You closed the book you held in your hands with loud thud and spun around, so you could face him. There he was, standing too close to you, those blue eyes piercing right through you and a little smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth.

“Speak low, if you speak love” you quoted and his eyes lit up, like he knew he just found the right woman to spend his whole life with.

“Champagne?” Tom asked, the dulcet tone of his voice giving you more shivers and suddenly you became aware of what impact he had on you, on your whole body, the dull throbbing feeling you felt between your thighs getting more prominent.

“Yes, please.”

He let go of your waist and you sighed at the loss of body contact with him, hopping onto the other table, observing him when he was popping the bottle open. Pouring two generous glass of champagne, before handing you one.

“How about a toast, darling?” raising his glass he stopped it midway, waiting for you to cling yours with his.

“Toast… for?” he took one tiny step closer to you and you could smell his eau du cologne, the musky scent making your head pirouette.

“Perhaps for us?” Tom cocked his eyebrow, his free hand resting at your waist now and you gasped a little, feeling the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress.

“Us?” this time you were the one that took one tiny step further and you could see it in his eyes that you both wanted it, even though you couldn’t name it properly yet.

“For the future that lays in front of us” he stated and you pressed your glass into his, the soft clinking sound filling the room.

“I hope my future is full of you” Tom giggled at your words, drinking everything he poured himself in one take.

“Oh, it can be, ehehe” you just rolled your eyes at him and downed your drink as well.

His watchful eyes were following your every movement, flicking between your eyes and your lips. He wanted to kiss you and you were more than sure of it now, the certainty of his intention more clear with every stare.

Tom slowly dragged his hand from your waist and onto your hip, pulling you in, before he placed his empty glass onto the table, then placed his hand onto your neck, caressing it lightly with his long fingers.

You knew what his next move would be even before he moved a finger. Yet when his soft lips finally came into contact with your skin, as he leaned in, trailing featherlight kisses along your neck and up towards your chin, your breath caught, and the hairs on your arms stood up. Against any better judgement you tilted your head to the side to give him more room, barely even noticing that you did it. The book fell to the floor, as you knocked it out with your hand, startling you both just as he was about to kiss your lips. A loud sigh escaped from your lips and Tom almost soundlessly bent to pick up the book, placing it back onto the table. You quickly placed your glass right next to it, too scared you’d break it and you knew how expensive it was, since you picked them yourself.

“Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs” he quoted Shakespeare again and you could feel how your body trembled slightly, not with fear, but with anticipation.

You backed away equally slowly, giving him a little challenge this Christmas eve, and his grin turned predatory, making you feel like a prey, like a mouse being stalked by a cat. Your pulse picked up speed, your heart hammering against her ribs, breaths coming in short gasps. But not from fear.

He was standing right in front of you now and you had nowhere to go. You had backed yourself into a corner, literally, flanked on either side by the tall bookshelves in one of the darkest corners of the library. Your back was pressed against the shelf and Tom slowly raised his hands, putting one on each side of you.

“If you want me to stop just tell me, darling” he hesitated, catching your eye for the briefest of moments, before bending his head down and once again trailing those impossibly soft lips along your neck.

You feebly shook her head, “No…” your voice was barely audible, even in the silence of the empty library.

He smirked against your neck, “You don’t want me to stop?” he breathed, his warm breath ghosting across your skin, moments before his tongue slipped out and tickled your pulse point.

Your breath caught in your throat. “N-no, please keep going…” you stammered.

He dipped his tongue into the valley between your breasts, his other hand snaking its way into your hair, twining the thick strands around his fingers to gently but firmly tug your head back. You held her breath as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes were almost black with arousal. As he held your gaze, his hands suddenly completely still, the moment stretched on. The only sound in the corner of the library – in the world – was the sound of your ragged breathing. Your breaths mingled as your chests brushed with every inhale, his scent filling your nostrils, making your head spin in the best of ways. You found herself utterly and completely incapable of looking away from Tom’s magnetic gaze.

So you just kissed him.

Gripping his hips with almost bruising force, your fingers digging into the cotton of his trousers, you pulled him closer, his tall, lean body settling against your smaller frame. His lips parted against your, his tongue darting out to caress yours, sending sparks of arousal shooting throughout your body.

His hands gripped yours hips in return and he pressed you even further onto the shelf with his own body, the rough layers of books digging into her back through the thin material of the dress you were wearing. Pulling your dress upwards he let the slit that showed your leg a little now reveal it completely, then tucked it to the side, so he could have a better access to your body. You could feel his erection against your thigh, the length of it pressing against your skin, providing a pressure that had her panting with need, but that was nowhere near enough.

Tom pulled back just enough to whisper, “Your passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love” his warm, bubbly breath ghosting across your lips. He reached between your legs to push your panties aside, his fingers found their way to your entrance, teasing, slipping inside almost automatically because you were already soaking wet for him, whimpering and pressing your legs shut as your hips bucked forward. Tom groaned against your lips.

Your face was bright red, you already felt sweat forming at your collarbones, “T-Tom…” you whimpered when his thumb flicked your clit again, started rubbing it slowly, picking up a steady rhythm, every now and then pressing down harder, not allowing you to get used to one set sensation but determined to make your body jolt with pleasure, to show you that he could make you come undone with a flick of his finger.

Your eyes fell and remained shut, gasping when his fingers curled inside you and stretched your walls, brushing up against them before drawing them out, only to push them right back in, starting to pick up a slow pace, your soft moans and whimpers only encouraging him to go faster, “Tom…”

You were slowly growing aware of just how much he was getting himself worked up too, moving closer and closer to you as he fingered you faster, his hard cock growing more and more prominent in his suit trousers, pressing up against your thigh.

When you opened your eyes his face was inches away from yours, lips almost touching and weren’t sure this time if his thumb flicking hard against your clit was on purpose or if he couldn’t control himself, but then the movements of his fingers sped up inside you, he leaned in to press a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips so close to your ear and then he was rubbing your clit relentlessly, hard and merciless and you whimpered loudly, nails digging into his arms.

“Let go, darling…” he coaxed, his lips brushing up against your skin, his hot breath tickling your ear, “Let go around my fingers … all over my hand … yessss…”

Your walls clenched around his fingers, drawing them in and each rub of his thumb against your clit sent shivers of pleasure up your body, your orgasm washing over you and you could barely hold your balance, gripping on to his shoulder and to the shelf as little shocks of your orgasm ripped through you, over and over again until they slowly ceased and you were able to calm down.

“Fucking hell…” you breathed as your eyes opened and you looked back at him.

Tom was staring at you with a wild grin on his lips, his forehead sweaty. He pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a heated kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, as he pushed you further into the shelf, “Tom… p-please…” you mumbled out against his mouth and he captured your lower lip between his teeth teasing you a little.

“Oh my darling… what do you want?” he asked and you slid your hand to the front of his trousers, giving his hard cock a little squeeze and he dipped in, to leave wet kisses all over your neck. The growl that left his mouth as you squeezed his length harder this time was almost primal and you could feel the wetness that was pooling between your legs again.

He smirked, his fingers slipping out of you and he was quick to unbuckle his belt, taking out his cock, his arms wrapped around your waist now, lifting you slightly from the ground. You were still firmly holding onto one of the shelves, your leg tangled around his hip, so he could have a better access.

“You’re so fierce, doctor, I fucking love it” he breathed against your breasts, as he moved the deep neckline of your dress to the side, so he could wrap his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking at it with an obscene sound.

“T-Tom… just- please” you gasped, feeling how he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with it. “Please…” the desire you had for him raging, sweat pooling at your collarbones now and he hiked the skirt of your dress higher, his large hand gripping your waist tightly.

“Do you need me, darling?” he hummed, though he already knew the answer, “I need you so fucking badly…”

His breath tickled your skin as he spoke, the tip of his cock was still pressed against your entrance, toying with you, but not quite dipping inside, his thumb hovering over your clit as if to touch you, to tease you, “Tell me you need me…”

“I-I need you” you whispered shakily, “I need you so bad, Tom, p-please…”

Letting your fingers run down his back gently, you pushed him closer to you, making him laugh huskily into the kiss as you squeezed his butt, “I need you, baby…” you whispered.

Before you could say anything else, he pushed inside you, making you moan loudly as you felt him fill you up completely.

You kissed him back harder as he started moving, needing absolutely no time, instantly picking up a steady pace, moaning into your mouth each time he filled you and your hips met.

You kept him close, pulling lightly on his hair, moving your hips with his, whimpering when he stroked just the right spot inside you again.

“F-Fuck, Tom, right there…” you whispered.

He chuckled and pulled out of you but before you could protest, he drove right back into you, hitting the spot and staying buried inside you, pressing his forehead against yours, “There, darling?” he asked teasingly, his long fingers digging into your flesh

You nodded eagerly, “Y-Yes…” you whimpered.

He smirked and pecked your lips before starting to fuck you faster again, getting you closer and closer, his mouth back on your chest, his hot tongue teasing your hard nipples, while his other hand was pressing yours into the shelves that rattled behind your back.

“T-Tom, I-I’m g-… fuck…” you stuttered out, finding it harder to form words as he sunk deeper inside you.

“Me too, darling…” he moaned.

“Let go, baby…” you breathed against his neck, as his lips find back yours, capturing them into a heated kiss.

He drove into you again, brushing your spot once more and you fell apart, clenching around him as if to hold him inside you, moaning loudly. You held onto him tightly with your one arm wrapped around his neck, your body shaking as the pleasure washed over you and you felt his hot release fill you, moaning softly and wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

He moaned loudly into your neck, biting at it lightly, as he came before his movements started slowing until he pressed his body closer to yours, breathing heavily. His hand was caressing your wrist, still gently holding it above your head, pressing it into the books.

“We still have a whole bottle of champagne Tom” you mumbled out, moaning at the emptiness when he slid himself from you, his hot release dripping from you, slowly running down your legs.

“I’m already drunk on you, darling” his hot breath was tickling your neck, leaving tiny kisses all over it, until he found that one soft spot right behind your ear and when he sucked at it lightly, eliciting a loud moan from you, he hummed in approval.

“You’re quite unbelievable, Mister Hiddleston.”

“Ehehehe, I barely started, darling” he responded, looking up at you with a sly grin.

#White Christmas #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston series #tom hiddleston parted fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #tom hiddleston/reader #tom hiddleston x reader #th:parted_fic

[welcometophu]

Missed Fortunes: Self 3

Twinned Book 2: Missed Fortunes

Self 3

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Sunday is peaceful, and Carolyn’s thankful for a little quiet. Mac leaves the house early in the morning for a taekwondo tournament. Carolyn doesn’t remember where they’re heading today. She just knows that a layer of tension seems to lift from the house once she’s gone, as no one worries about Cass and Mac butting heads again.

They haven’t been arguing constantly, but things haven’t been completely normal between them either. It’s a little like living in the cold war, and everyone’s waiting for another explosion. And while Mac has assured Carolyn that it isn’t coming, Carolyn doesn’t necessarily read the situation that way.

Although Carolyn isn’t particularly good at reading people in general, so she could be wrong. She hopes she’s wrong. Still. With Mac gone, Cass spends the day in the living room, her feet tucked under herself as she reads through a book for class. Carolyn brings her own work down to join her, and the morning passes in a haze of reading through notes and trying to collate everything in a way that gives her more points to research.

It’s tempting to simple travel over to the special collections room and come back with a book so she can work in the comfort of the house, but Carolyn doesn’t want to be that person who uses her Talent to completely get around the law. Getting into the building early is bad enough, but removing books would just be wrong. Instead, she and Cass walk over to the library after lunch so that Carolyn can work there, while Cass keeps her company. Carolyn has no idea what project Cass is working on, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they both work silently.

When they head back to the house, Cass nearly walks into Soledad as she comes out, Trish close behind.

“Hey, we’re just heading over to Teas Please to get something to eat,” Trish calls out. “Since we don’t have a formal dinner this weekend, we figured we’d do something fun tonight.”

Serina’s on shift. Carolyn knows because Serina pauses to text periodically, and sends funny stories about the things people order or the strange stories she overhears in the restaurant. But Trish and Soledad… Carolyn isn’t sure she wants to barge in on any big/little sister bonding time. She glances at Soledad, uncertain.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Soledad encourages. “We’ll make notes for ideas on what we can cook next time it’s our turn.”

“None of us are good cooks,” Carolyn points out. “That’s why we eat a lot of pasta for formal dinners.” It’s true. She remembers her freshman year, when one of the seniors was a History major, specializing in food history, and was an amazing cook. Every four weeks they’d have a great meal, something different every time.

The rest of the time, it’s usually macaroni and cheese or some other form of pasta. It’s easy to make enough for an entire house that way.

“It’s always Teas Please, isn’t it?” Cass says dryly. “But it sounds better than ordering pizza. I’m in.”

Trish glances at Cass, then at Carolyn, and shrugs. “Let’s go.”

There’s a light snow falling as they walk over, and Soledad holds out her hands, catching the flakes on her mittens. “I know you all hate it, but I still love snow. I wish it snowed more.”

“Nikita accidents aside, it’s been a mild winter,” Carolyn agrees. When they’ve had anything more than flurries, the storms have been bad, but she’s fairly certain that every single one of them was caused by Nikita.

“And they say global warming’s a lie,” Cass mutters. She pulls her phone from her pocket, swipes to look at something, then shoves it away again.

“You okay?”

Cass smiles sweetly. “I’m fine. Trish, Soledad, did you have a good weekend? I’ve been buried in reading for my modern women’s lit course. Which is actually a good class—we’ve been following female identifying authors writing any time in the last hundred years, and comparing and contrasting tropes and ideology.”

“I was actually looking at that class, but you have to be a junior or a senior to get in, I heard.” Soledad’s brow furrows. “How did you get in as a sophomore?”

“I explained that I wanted to take it early for my Psychology major,” Cass says. Her voice is lighter now, warming to the topic rather than simply being polite. “The way the class looks at how women write—and how their work is received—is more than just literature. It’s a sociological and psychological look at how we perceive and present our view differently.” She glances over, gestures at Carolyn. “You’d probably love it.”

Carolyn can’t deny that, but she also can’t think when she’d fit it in her schedule with only one year to go, and a thesis to do in that time.

“I’d hate it,” Trish says mildly. She pulls open the door as they arrive at Teas Please. “I love looking at how people think, but I hate dissecting things people wrote. I mean, I write music—I know that every writer puts meaning into their words. But I don’t think we can really know what someone else meant unless we ask them. It’s like how sometimes I write a song, and when it gets popular, everyone thinks I meant something else entirely. Readers and listeners find what they want in words, not necessarily what was put there.”

“That’s part of what we talk about, as well as how the perceptions of literature are different depending on who’s reading, and when they’re reading,” Cass says. “Which is why it’s so interesting. A teenager in the fifties would’ve read something completely different than how we read it today.”

Carolyn tunes them out as they go on, Soledad jumping in periodically. There’s a short wait at the hostess station, but Carolyn doesn’t mind as she scans the restaurant. She spots Nate in his usual section toward the back. He waves and ducks into the kitchen, and a few minutes later Serina emerges and waves cheerfully.

She carries a tray of drinks and pauses at two tables to drop them off and reassure her customers that she’ll be back momentarily for their orders. Then she approaches Carolyn, smiling happily. “Did you come to break up the monotony of my shift?” Serina asks. “I get a break soon. I could come visit you, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Carolyn agrees. She’d ask the others, but the conversation has shifted to discussing some book that she’s never read, and she doesn’t want to interrupt.

Serina looks away, then reaches for menus. “Come with me. Nate’s pointing to a booth in his section, so I’m going to put you there.”

Carolyn taps Trish on the shoulder, and the other three girls trail after, still discussing. When they arrive at the booth, Carolyn waits to let Trish and Cass slide into either side, so she can manage an end seat.

Serina drops the menus on the table. “Nate’ll be over to get your order soon, and I’ll be back with water for you in just a minute when I take my break. Do you want to give me your tea order?” Serina writes down their choices quickly, grins as she taps the pad with her pencil. “Perfect, I’ll be back!”

“Writing songs,” Trish says. Carolyn isn’t sure what she’s responding to, as she apparently returns to an earlier conversation. “Or well, one song, and some music. I was working with Thorne today, because he wanted an opinion that wasn’t Rory for some reason. Plus we decided a while back that we should do some collabs, so we were working on those, too. We want to blind drop an EP of just the two of us singing songs about completely random things—totally innocuous things, like ice cream, or flowers—and see what people do with it. It goes back to that whole question of interpretation versus intention. We’ve got reputations. It’ll be interesting to see how that affects what people hear in our music.”

“Aren’t you afraid everyone will think you’re sleeping with him?” Soledad asks, and Trish brushes off the question with a wave of her hand.

“Everyone here already does. I’m pan and poly, he’s pan and poly, they figure that means we obviously had sex. Which, no.” Trish wrinkles her nose, leans on her elbows on the table. “He’s just not what I’m looking for. I don’t know what I’m looking for lately.”

Carolyn meets her gaze, and Trish looks down. Carolyn’s fairly certain that’s a lie, but she figures that Trish isn’t ready to talk about Sera to anyone else.

It’s strange being the only person who knows about something. Or probably the only person; it’s possible Trish talked to someone else. This is not normal for Carolyn.

Serina reappears with Nate right behind her. She sets down four pots of tea, nudging the correct one in front of each person, and keeping a fifth for herself. Nate pushes mugs across the table, along with silverware.

“Is it okay…?” Serina gestures to the bench next to Carolyn, and Carolyn squeezes closer to Cass to give Serina room. “Thanks,” Serina says, cradling her mug in her hands.

Carolyn smells chocolate, and there’s a thin sheen of cream on the top, as if Serina’s already licked away a mound of whipped cream. Carolyn was hungry when they started walking over, and her stomach growls at the scent. When Serina grins, Carolyn flushes. “It smells good,” she admits.

“Taste,” Serina orders, holding the mug up to Carolyn’s lips. “It’s not searingly hot; I like my cocoa a little cooled.”

It’s as rich as it smells, the consistency thicker than Carolyn’s used to. “There’s melted chocolate—”

“Blended in, yes.” Serina presses her knee against Carolyn, looks over at the others. “I totally didn’t mean to interrupt. I mean, I’m just sitting here while I’m on break. I get like fifteen minutes, but I spent a few of that making myself cocoa. And I kind of still need to eat a snack, too, unless Nate’s nice enough to bring me something.” She cranes her head, tilting back as she looks for him. “Nope, he’s busy. So don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon.” She taps her knee again Carolyn’s. “Thanks for coming to visit me.”

Cass snorts softly.

“Any time one of us decides to head to Teas Please, it turns into a party,” Trish says. She pours her tea and offers the cup to Soledad to taste, and Soledad offers her own in return. They seem to be getting along better again, and Carolyn wonders if that’s because Sera has been spending time with TJ instead of Trish.

She doesn’t wish ill on Trish’s friendship, but she’s glad to see her sisterhood isn’t faltering now.

“I got a care package from my parents,” Soledad says, leaning on the table, her voice low. “It’s four bottles of homemade wine. And I was thinking I could bring it over to the house, and we could have a wine tasting one night, with just some of the sisters. My aunt and uncle are really proud of these four batches, and I’d love to be able to share.”

“I take it your parents don’t believe in the drinking age?” Cass asks, fingernails tapping against the wood of the table.

“Are you going to tell?” Trish asks just as quickly, and Cass pulls back, affronted.

“No. That was conversational. Most parents don’t seem to just give their kids alcohol.”

“My aunt and uncle own a vineyard, and we all grew up tasting wine since we were little,” Soledad explains. “My father wanted to work with them for a long time, but he has a talent—not a Talent, we don’t think, but who knows—for working with computers. And he really doesn’t have any kind of a nose for wine, so my uncle encouraged him to follow his passion. But we help there when we can, and we all grew up close enough that we have their wines at home all the time. I’ve been missing it, and I asked at Christmas if I could have some so… care package.”

“Never did understand why more parents don’t teach their kids how to handle alcohol,” Trish says, her accent thickening softly. “All my friends never had a drop unless they stole a six pack from their folks, and they all thought it was this big deal to get hammered and drive around like fools. Momma said she didn’t raise her kids to drink or do drugs, but that hasn’t helped—”

“What?” Serina asks, her smile falling away when Trish looks at her.

“My older sisters Patsy’s an alcoholic, and Momma doesn’t know,” Trish says quietly. “We’re close as hell—Momma’s two bookends—but I don’t feel that need to drink. But Patsy started when she was on the road, and she’d never had it before, and next think she knew she was drinking herself under the table, no help required. She’s on the wagon now, but she says sometimes it’s hard, especially after she comes home. Momma’s got a strict no alcohol policy at home, though. Just like her strict no magic policy.” Trish turns her hand palm up, like maybe they can see the way her Talent plays across her skin.

Soledad’s brow furrows. “Trish, can I ask a weird question?”

“Sure. Might not have an answer,” Trish admits.

“Are you and your sister both named Patricia?”

It’s funny, because Carolyn’s never thought of that, and she’s been friends with Trish since freshman year. Cass laughs into her drink, and Serina’s eyes go wide.

“Whoa, really?” Serina asks. “I thought that was like this total fictional stereotype, having a family with the kids all named the same thing.”

“It’s just me an Patsy,” Trish says easily. “Patsy was already a teenager when I was born, and there’s like six other kids between me and her. She was all rebellious, and Momma asked what she had to do to get Patsy to help out around the house instead of leaving. Patsy said name the baby after her, so that’s what Momma did. Then Patsy left anyway, went out on tour without even graduating high school.”

“You don’t sound upset by that.” Soledad sounds bewildered. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“Because sometimes family leaves,” Cass mumbles. She pulls her phone out, looks at it, then turns it upside down on the table.

“She came back,” Trish says firmly. She reaches for Soledad’s teapot and pours herself a cup. “She was there more than not when I was twelve, and she stuck around and made sure I made it through high school without being stupid like her—her words, not mine. I was already writing songs, and I’d sent her some, and she helped me start recording. But she said I had to get my high school diploma first, and when she found out I liked engines, and that I was good at working with them, she said I should go to school for that, too. She pays my tuition now, even though I could afford it, and like I said, we’re close. She didn’t abandon me. She just needed to grow up a bit away from Momma. And I think maybe she had the right idea with that one.” She smiles ruefully. “I love my Momma, but sometimes I don’t really like her all that much.”

Nate appears at the table, sets down two baskets of crispy breadsticks and two ramekins of dipping sauces. “Serina, you’re needed in the back. Your section is filling up and people are going to want service, and I can’t do it all.”

“Gotcha.” Serina quickly downs the rest of her hot cocoa, then glances at everyone. “Anyone need a refill? Cass?” she says when Cass raises her hand. “Okay, I’ll put that in and bring out more tea shortly.”

“I’ll bring out more tea and you’ll go back to your section,” Nate repeats. “Go earn your own tips.” He stands tall until she hurries away, but as soon as she’s gone his shoulders slump. “She was excited to see you come in, but we’re too busy tonight for much social. Even for me.” He takes their orders and pockets his pencil and pad. “Carolyn, have you got a minute?”

It’s strangely formal for Nate, his usual cheerfulness held at bay. Carolyn rises, follows when he motions for her to head toward the narrow hall leading to the back where the restrooms are. “I’m not good at advice,” she says when they are out of sight. “No matter what anyone else might say. I’m really not.”

“I’m not looking to get advice,” Nate says softly. “I’m looking to give it. Anyone with eyes can see that Serina’s fallen hard, and I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. She wears her heart on her sleeve.”

Carolyn blinks. “What?”

“First she had that crush on me, and I had to let her down easy because as much as I adore her—and I do adore her—she’s just not my type.” Nate ticks points off on long fingers as he speaks. “Then there was Kit, and she was over the moon, and then suddenly they just weren’t together. And she didn’t seem all that upset, and I wasn’t sure why, but then I saw you.”

“Me?” Carolyn’s still not following.

“If you’re not interested, you need to let her know,” Nate says.

Oh.

“I don’t know if I’m interested,” Carolyn admits, just as quietly. “I mean, I think I am. But there’s—” She doesn’t want to get into all the details with Nate, and doesn’t really feel like he belongs that deeply in her psychology. “I don’t want to hurt her, either. I like Serina. A lot. And I’m comfortable with her, and when I needed someone to flee to, she’s who my subconscious chose.” She shrugs her shoulders, wraps her arms around her center before anything else slips free. “Take that as you will.”

Nate regards her for a long moment, then opens his arms and gestures for her to come closer. He wraps her up in a hug, holding on tight as he pats her back. “Don’t let her hurt you, either, Carolyn,” he murmurs. “Remember that you’re just as important as she is.”

Carolyn disengages slowly. “Weren’t you just giving me the shovel talk on her behalf?”

“You’re both my friends; I can give you both the shovel talk,” Nate says seriously. He keeps his hands on her shoulders, watching her. Carolyn isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but he eventually drops his hands and steps back. “I need to get back to my shift; we really are busy.”

“Have you had any luck with your risks?” Carolyn asks. She follows him back out, doesn’t miss the way he checks her table. Heather and Nikita must have just arrived, standing nearby. Cass slides out of the bench, pushing past them roughly as she heads out. “Nate?”

“Hm?” He glances over at her, shakes his head. “Risks? Oh, you mean fighting off the dicks for purposes of valor. No, sorry, he remains gorgeous, straight, and absolutely unattainable. And to be honest, if I could stop thinking about him, I would, but sometimes there’s nothing sensible about crushes? Right. Me, I have a thing for a human stats machine. He isn’t even my usual type. But don’t worry, I’ll get over him soon enough. Summer’s a great time around here for flirting with tourists trying to get away from the city.”

“It’s still February,” Carolyn points out.

Nate pats her cheek. “Don’t lose hope; spring is coming. Let me get that order in before you all starve waiting for me.”

They part ways, and by the time Carolyn makes it back to the table, Heather and Nikita have taken over the other side of the bench, and Cass is gone. Rather than squeeze in, Carolyn grabs an empty chair from another table, and makes her own spot at the end. “What happened to Cass? She was all over her phone tonight.”

“She got a text and stormed out,” Soledad says, looking at the door as if she could still see Cass. “She was really upset about it.”

“Dax?”

Trish shakes her head. “Not Dax; we asked if he’s okay and she said she has no idea. He’s got a project he’s working on, since Chris is away helping out with that tournament today. She didn’t want to talk about it, froze us out like Cass does.”

But it’s not like Cass does, not anymore. Carolyn’s begun to think of Cass as someone closer to her, sometime who trusts her, and that she can trust in return. She pulls out her phone as Nik and Heather pore over the menu and flag down Nate to add their orders and cancel Cass’s.

You okay? She sends the text to Cass, not really expecting an answer.

They have their food by the time Cass replies, I’m as okay as I’m going to be. It’s nothing major. Just family drama again.

For a moment Carolyn wants to ask if it’s about her sister, but she doubts that would be true. Not now, not after all these years. So instead she replies, If you want to talk about it at all, I’m here.

She figures that Cass understands just how rare an offer that is for Carolyn. And just how truly she means it.

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