38. Chocolate (part 2)

Peter sought Beverly out after lunch and she frowned amusingly at the sight of him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I have an idea," he said triumphantly.

"Ah. And what is this idea?"

"It's a secret, for now."

"For now?"

"You'll have to wait and see. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?"

"Outside. I'm going with Willa."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Not long. I promise."

And he did keep his word. He had no desire to make empty promises. He went outside, back into the white fog of light, breathing in the winter sugar, and went to the river of ice. He walked next to Willa and her basket of chocolate. And, as promised, he returned shortly, alone, hands in pockets, eyes glossy with amusement. Beverly crossed her arms above her chest and tilted her head.

"What's in your pockets?"

"I don't know. What is in my pockets?"

"You're the one who knows."

He took out his hands, spread them out for her to see. Palms facing up and completely empty.

"No, I don't," he teased.

"Peter, what did you do?" she chuckled.

In her tone, however, he detected a mild suspicion. There was no humor in her question, despite the bounce of her voice. It had been a while since he'd felt that hum in his stomach. That discouragement. A reminder. Crook. Magpie. Peter shook his head.

"I know what you're thinking," he claimed, raising his eyebrows. "And you're wrong."

Beverly said nothing. A soft flush breezed across her face. She allowed him to explain.

"I didn't steal anything. I made a, ahem…" Peter raised a finger and declared: "A totally legal and ordinary transaction."

Beverly laughed hoarsely, but her watery gaze had become cloudy. What did he see? Embarrassment. Shame. She had assumed the worst of him and now regretted it. And he didn't hold a grudge, he loved her too much to do that, but he had been hurt, and now she was hurt for hurting him. Peter Lake smiled softly.

"Here is what I, heh, what I bought," he said.

He dug into his pocket and revealed a single bar of chocolate. Beverly's lips parted slightly.

"You bought this?" she said. "But… I thought these were already bought."

"They were," he claimed. "But then they were all given away. And some were sold away. So I bought what was already bought, because it was no longer… bought. You know?" Beverly frowned, smiled, her teeth catching the light. "Basically, I wanted to give you something, as a token of thanks for what you've given me."

She took the bar from his hands, gently stroke the gleaming yellow wrapping. Peter scratched the back of his neck.

"I know it's stupid, but… I didn't know what else to give you."

"A bar of chocolate," she said. "I haven't had one in so long."

"Willa said you never take any."

"I've been advised not to eat chocolate."

Peter tensed up. "Will it put you at risk?"

"No," she clarified, shaking her head. "No, this isn't related to the fever. It's related to something much more trivial."

"What is it?"

Beverly bit her lips. "My weight."

Peter huffed out a laugh, frowned, shook his head. "What?"

Beverly looked him in the eye. After a moment, she took a deep breath.

"I'm very sorry for what I said," she murmured.

"What? I… Hey, no, I…"

"I offended you. I should have known better. So, I offer my most sincere apologies."

"Don't do that," said Peter. "Don't apologize. Beverly."

The white sunlight dripped in her eyes. Cream-colored dashes, tinted by the windows. Her hair looked purple in this lighting.

"You had reasons to come to your conclusions," said Peter.

"Did I?" she asked. "After all you've done? All you've proven to be? You were only a thief when I first saw you."

Peter just stared at her. Despite his desire to contradict her, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Because she had more reasons to regret ever suspecting him than she did to feel no regret at all. She had made a mistake. And he still loved her, he loved her, but she had been prejudiced. She had reasons to apologize to him. And so, she apologized.

You were only a thief when I first saw you.

Beverly was only a ghost when he first saw her. He had been unable, at first, to accept that she was real. Golden yellows had drenched the back of her head, like they now drenched her hands. She held the chocolate bar with care. Benevolence. And also, a touch of fear.

"What did you mean?" he asked. "About 'your weight'? If you don't mind me asking…"

Beverly hesitated before murmuring: "I'm unable to exercise, as you may have figured out. Ever since I was little, our governess has been bragging on and on about how… if I eat sweets, I… well…"

She scratched the back of her neck, like he had done earlier. Small wisps of crimson slipped between her fingers. She frowned, her lips thinning out.

"I'm not going to find a suitor, either way," she muttered, the edges of her voice roughening slightly. "No matter what I bloody weigh…"

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Just like that. The words had been hiding in his mouth, waiting for the right moment to leap out and become sound. And now, they were free, floating between Peter Lake and her. The pianist. Whose eyes had somehow become bluer, and greener, too. Her colors thickened. The way a fire grows in intensity when it drapes onto a log.

"Beverly, you're…" he added, softly. "You're impossibly beautiful."

"So are you," Beverly whispered.

He remembered her lips pressed to his cheek. The coolness of her breath. He wanted to kiss her cheek, like she'd kissed his. He wanted to hold her face in his hands.

Her beloved eyes lowered and the gold twinkled in the pools of water. Beverly sighed.

"To hell with it," she muttered. And she ripped through the wrapping.

Author's Note: Whoever is here today, thank you for reading.

The "impossibly beautiful" line was supposed to be said by Peter much later, in the New Year's Eve party, but I decided to have it be said here. As Beverly talks about her bitterness over what people expect her to look like.

The Emmanuel chapter, as well as these "Chocolate" chapters, are meant to create more interactions where Beverly can actually verbalize her frustration at her illness. I wanted to give her more instances where she verbally voices it out - Beverly is a strong character who keeps a positive attitude despite her illness, but she does get frustrated. It's mostly through Jessica Brown-Findlay's subtle performance that these frustations come to light, and I have her subtly reveal them in my fanfic as well, but I also want her to actually speak about them out loud. Cause I feel like she needs to talk about it sometimes.

(Side note: as to how Peter "bought" the chocolate bar, don't worry, I'll explain in the next chapter)

Again, thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.