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Smiling indulgently, Pearl scratched behind the fox’s ears. “My familiar, Mercutio.”

Corvus replied with solemnity, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, good sir.”

“I’m still navigating taking him into non-magical spaces. People tend to stare at you when you have a fox in your bag, and people are always so confused about what he is since he’s gray and not red as one would expect of foxes here in the UK. My boss actually laughed at me when I asked if I could bring my fox to work.”

“Obviously, he has no understanding of what a gentleman you have here. So you’re a fan of The Bard then?” Corvus took a seat on the couch, and Mercutio hopped into his lap as though pleased with the compliment.

Pearl answered as she sank into the couch next to him. “Does it make me sound like an Anglophile if I say yes?”

That earned her a smirk. “I’m never going to be sorry to hear you admit that you’re obsessed with me.”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “I had a teacher who adored Shakespeare when I was in junior high, and he had us perform in class the most pitiful Shakespearean productions the world has ever seen, but he got the last laugh because I loved them. Mercutio was a favorite because I thought it was endlessly hilarious to read about a character who was making jokes as he died.” She smirked, “Not to mention I adore giving animals pretentious names. My family always had pets with horrifically practical names - probably in a futile attempt to prevent the children from bonding with them before they were eaten by a bobcat.”

Corvus’ eyes grew wide. “Your pets would be eaten? Good Lord. I don’t think there are any names practical enough to counteract the trauma of that. What were the names?”

“Orangy for an orange cat, BW for a black and white cat, Catsy for any old cat.”

Corvus looked unconvinced. “You could name it Dinner, and I still don’t think that would be enough.”

Laughing, Pearl concurred, “One of the many things I don’t miss about home.” A wistful look crossed her face. “I would rename them the most ridiculous, regal names I could think of.” She sighed. “Maybe my family was right. I wept every time we lost one of them - even the mangiest old barn cat.”

Instead of offering words of comfort, Corvus simply reached out and took her hand in his own and squeezed it gently. Moments passed in silence before he spoke. “I didn’t know how beautiful tenderness could look on a person.” It almost made his teeth ache to be so sincere, but he had trouble not being completely candid around her and about her.

Breath catching in her throat, Pearl seemed to be at a loss for words. This thing between them was still so new, and he hoped he wouldn’t scare her away with this newfound sincerity she somehow managed to conjure out of him.

As he continued to pet the contented fox in his lap, Corvus looked back up at Pearl. “Do you know why most magic users in the UK don’t have familiars?”

“I can’t deny I’ve always wondered, but no one seems keen to talk about it, and most magic users seem shocked by Mercutio. It’s always been odd to me. I was walking on the beach one day, he ran up to me, and I felt an instant connection. He walked back home with me as though it was something he’d always done. Having him with me feels as natural as breathing.” Pearl wondered where this sudden change in topic was headed.

“People try to avoid the topic as a general rule, but when pressed, they claim that it’s out of fashion, but it’s really because it’s a vulnerability. It opens you up to losing them or having someone use them against you - magically and otherwise. Such a deep emotional connection with a creature is something most people aren’t willing to risk.” Corvus paused trying to find the right words. “And yet, you are so open and passionate and determined, and I can scarcely look away from you because I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Seeming surprised by Corvus’ raw and unexpected sincerity, Pearl tried for a joke. “Because I’m so stereotypically American?”

But Corvus didn’t bite. “No, because you’re you.”

Pearl’s mouth opened in surprise, but Corvus didn’t give her time to dwell on what he’d just revealed - deciding instead to tease her - terrified by how much of himself he was allowing her to see. He decided to put some physical distance between them, and gently removed Mercutio from his lap before plopping down on her shag carpet and asking, “So speaking of names, why Pearl? Isn’t that rather an old-fashioned name?”

Subject effectively changed by distracting her with irritation, Pearl pursed her lips and shot right back. “Why Corvus? Did your parents have a thing for crows?”

Laughing, he replied easily. “I’m named after the constellation. My mother has always loved the night sky at our estate. She even went so far as to pay some exorbitantly expensive price for some magical astronomers to make it a Dark Sky Place and every few years she has to scare off non-magical astronomers trying to crawl all over the manor grounds. Heaven forbid she share the beauty with anyone else.”

Since he called her bluff and answered her question, she begrudgingly returned the favor. “It’s my grandma’s middle name. You know you don’t have to sit on the floor.” There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice as though she was perplexed about why he had moved away.

Cocking his head and leaning back onto his hands, Corvus narrowed his eyes at her. “Why would I sit on an ancient couch when I could sit on this outdated rug? And don’t change the subject - I know when I’m not being told the full story.”

Pearl plopped down next to him and began twirling a strand of the shag with her fingers. “My dad always said I was his ‘pearl of great price.’”

Bumping her with an elbow, Corvus gestured for her to continue and Mercutio climbed into his lap once again - apparently undeterred by being removed. Pearl shot him a look Corvus knew was reserved for traitors, but to Corvus’ delight, Mercutio only yawned and settled in more comfortably. Giving them both her most put upon sigh, Pearl continued. “You know the story in the Bible? It’s one of Jesus’ parables where a merchant finds a ‘pearl of great price’ and sells everything he has to get it. And…my mom would always tell me I was named after my grandmother, but my dad would say I was named Pearl because I was so precious.” Her face was bright red when she finished. Corvus wasn’t used to prompting people to be vulnerable with him, and he was even less familiar with them being willing to gift him such a private piece of themselves. He’d been trying to close himself back up, and here she was continuing to be open and honest with him as she always was. It was intoxicating. Words failed him, and before he could cobble together a response, the door to the flat was kicked open forcefully.

“PEARL! I TOLD YOU TO KEEP THIS DOOR LOCKED! ANYONE COULD BURST IN HERE!”

Immediately replying as though this was a normal entrance, Pearl said, “I know how much you like making an entrance, and I’m always worried you’ll just break it down if it’s locked.”

A whirlwind of dark hair and boots swept into the flat and immediately locked eyes with Corvus. Corvus had heard the expression “Cheshire cat smile”, but he’d never actually seen it in person until this woman blasted it full force in his direction. “So. This is the wanker.”

Corvus sat up, accidentally disturbing Mercutio, who looked up at him with affront as though he were the one causing a scene instead of the tornado in human form who had burst through the door. “I beg your pardon.”

Peals of laughter were the response to his affront. “Oh, look! I’ve offended him. And so formal. I told you all these rich prats have an army of tutors. They’re like little old British lords in young bodies prancing about and pretending to be one of us.”