Page 75 of Rewitched

“She’s not home. We…had a weird argument.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. We’ll fix it. It’s next on my list of destruction to mend.”

“So…” He looked everywhere but at Belle, then found her eyes. “It’s only us.”

“Well, apart from the cat. Yes. It’s only us.”

With the confirmation hovering in the air, Belle was acutely aware of the fragile inches of space between them. It would be easy to close the gap.

She couldn’t.

“Can I get you a drink? I think we have wine or beer or tea or…A glass of…cold milk? Or warm, I guess.” She swallowed hard, cursing herself for being entirely the most embarrassing person who’d probably ever existed. Catching sight of the embroidered elves on her sleeves didn’t help. She tugged at the fabric, wondering why on earth she’d chosen to make today of all days laundry day.

Rune wandered towards the coffee table and picked up the small bottle of the palest pink liquid that Belle had set down when she arrived back from Quill Lane. A film of tiny iridescent bubbles coated the surface and fizzed expectantly.

“You’re home-brewing now?”

“Oh, I should have put that away. It’s nothing, it’s from the trio of benevolent potions that finally led to some more grimoire success.”

Rune held it up to examine closer, and it sparkled in an inviting way against the candlelight. “Looks like quality stuff. Where are the others?”

“Mum finished off the healing potion before she left, and the flourish potion is over there. I’m saving that for a rainy day,” Belle said, her heart feeling a little jittery at the sight of him in her living room for the first time, like he belonged there. As though it could be so easy for both elements of her life to blend together like that.

She distracted herself by heading into the kitchen and making a cafetière, placing two cups on a tray. She hesitated, then topped up a little glass bottle with milk, pushed in the mini cork stopper and chucked some sugar into a bowl. Maybe an artfully draped tea towel for sophistication? Too much. Did he want a biscuit? She added three to a plate. At what point exactly she’d turned into her mother, she wasn’t sure.

“Thanks,” Rune said, giving her a half-smile. He was standing by the fireplace, examining the collection of photos in mismatched frames of Belle, Ariadne and their wider group of friends.

“Do you want to…sit?” Belle asked clumsily, gesturing to the sofa as she placed the drinks on the table.

They took a strangely formal, rather rigid seat next to one another.

“Coffee. Sorry. We didn’t actually have any wine. Or beer. Or tea. But we always have coffee.” Belle laughed breathily.

“No, no. Coffee is good.” Rune nodded over-enthusiastically, the pair of them pretending that this was an entirely normal situation to have found themselves in. The cosy air of the room, lit warmly by the candles that Belle had been burning, seemed to crackle between them. “It’s a nice place you guys have. I like the…furnishings.”

Belle reached for the cups, pressed the coffee, and distractedly added half the milk to each. “Right. Who doesn’t love furnishings? We’re big on blankets,” she mumbled.

Their eye contact caught, an almost magnetic feeling locking into place. Rune tore his gaze away, immediately looking anywhere and everywhere else in the room. They sipped politely, Belle desperately ensuring that no silence fell between them by rambling about the sandwich she’d had for lunch in extraneous detail.

“God, that tastes good. Ridiculously good. What is that?” Rune asked, after draining the last dregs of his mug.

“Just coffee. But you’re right. It was ridiculously good. I didn’t do anything different, I just…”

She glanced at their two empty mugs together, trying not to enjoy how normal and domestic the scene was, the two of them sharing cups of coffee. The sugar she’d brought through for them and the leftover biscuit. The little bottle of milk just to the right.

But she’d used the milk a minute ago, she’d emptied it into their cups. So why…? Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh no.”

While the milk bottle remained full to the brim, she realised with abject horror that another little bottle just to the left of the mugs stood empty. Only droplets of candyfloss-coloured liquid, barely distinguishable from white in the low light, still clung inside the glass vial.

“What is it?” Rune paused, then swallowed, noticing the twin bottles for himself. “Oh no.”

Belle swallowed. “Infatuation.”

Rune’s dark eyes widened comically. He glanced at the empty bottle, then back to Belle. “You have got to be…Why are you brewing infatuation?” He sprung to his feet, and she mirrored his move at the other end of the couch.

“Artorius said it was one of the easiest recipes for my challenge! Anyone can make infatuation for themselves, you can conjure it practically from nothing.”