I looked over at Charlie as he sat in the armchair next to mine reading a book. He was chewing the inside of his lip, he always did that when he was deep in concentration. We were warm by the fire in the coffee shop where we had our first date as an icy mixture fell outside on a dreary February morning. Our relationship had been steadily progressing since the second date when I had a breakdown. The heat that had been present that night had cooled off since then. I still wanted him but I think he had been right when he said that it had been an emotional night and refused to act on desires. We slowed things down and have gotten comfortable with one another and no longer needed to have constant activities or conversation.

This was one of my favorite types of dates, the ones where we just sat in each other's company and had no plans that required us to stick to any kind of schedule. I enjoyed watching him when he was reading. His facial expressions changed as his eyes flicked over the words. In the event that anything particularly exciting happened in whatever book he was reading he would sit straight up before settling back in a new position. Currently, he was in his neutral position of leaning back, brow furrowed, and chewing on his lip.

His eyes darted over to me and he caught me staring at him. I felt my cheeks blush and made a hasty grab for my coffee. He smiled and closed his book before turning his body to face mine. "It's very distracting when you look at me like that."

"You didn't even notice." I argued.

"I could feel you undressing me with your eyes." He grinned at me with a devilish glare. "Very unprofessional, Winston."

I wrinkled my nose at his use of my last name. "Bold accusation, Harris. What proof do you have to back up these outrageous claims."

His lips tugged into a smirk. "I believe there are several witnesses." He gestured around at the empty cafe. It was usually fairly busy at this time of the morning but the weather was keeping people at home.

I realized that my cup was drained of coffee. I stood up to replace it with a cup of tea. As I was passing between our chairs to go to the counter he seized my hand and pulled me over the arm of his chair. I fell to the side with a surprised squeal and landed in his lap. One of his arms was wrapped behind my shoulders holding me upright, the other was draped across my lap with his hand gripping my outside hip. He pulled me in closer and our lips pressed together. He tasted of black coffee and pastry. I moved my hand that wasn't pressed between us up to the side of his neck and pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss. I felt his fingers pressing into my hip. He pulled away and his eyes looked into mine. Blue is supposed to be a cool color but his gaze was filled with a scorching heat.

"Just don't let it happen again," he whispered, "or I'll press…" His gaze slid from my eyes down to my lips during his pause. My heart thumped hard in my chest as the tension grew. "Charges." he finished. He smiled at me before he pushed me over the arm of the chair and my feet hit the floor. He held out his own empty cup. "I'll take another coffee."

I felt flustered and breathless. I wondered if he had any idea what he did to me as I took his cup from his hand.

I returned with his coffee and my tea. I set his on the coffee table and sat down to take a sip of mine.

"Oh," he said, looking up from his book that he had continued reading while I was ordering. "I've made a reservation for Friday at seven. That should give you enough time to leave work, get home, and get ready, shouldn't it?"

He hadn't attempted a reservation since I missed the one in November so this announcement surprised me. "What's Friday?"

He closed his book and looked at me. "Valentine's Day. I thought we'd go on a real date where I spend entirely too much money on dinner and buy you half dead flowers and a heart shaped box of chocolates from the corner store."

"A real date?" I questioned.

"Yeah," he said, "Something I have to plan out and structure ahead of time, not like this where we just sit like blobs near each other and offer sporadic witty banter."

I shrugged, "I like dates like this."

He looked at me, his eyes were soft and accompanied a gentle smile. "I do too, but I want to put effort into something for you."

I couldn't help but smile at him. How was it possible for one person to be this sweet and giving? "Friday at seven, where are we meeting?"

"Knightsbridge station." he said with a speed that suggested he was waiting for me to ask. "The restaurant isn't too far from there and we can walk together."

"Knightsbridge?" I exclaimed. "You really are planning to spend too much on dinner, aren't you?"

"I told you," he shrugged, "Real date."

He returned his attention to his book and I took a sip of my tea. Suddenly I was filled with guilt and sadness. Valentine's Day. The last time I had plans on that day was with Severus. He had taken me to Southern France and we'd had a picnic. Bits and pieces of that day played in my head like an old movie. He had been so lovely that day. Kissing under a picnic blanket in the rain, the floral snow he created for me, the sunset and the stars. I hadn't thought about that day in forever and it was still crystal clear in my mind. I had told him that that may be the best Valentine's Day I would ever had and he had replied 'You don't think I can top it next year?' My heart cracked at the memory.

"Charlie?" I almost whispered his name. He put his book down and looked over at me. "Have you ever experienced a great heartbreak?"

He didn't speak but he shook his head. His expression was a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"I have." I confessed. "It was so long ago, but I'm not sure I'll ever totally be over it."

"What happened?" he asked, shifting his body towards mine and looking me in the eyes.

"He was a tough egg to crack," I began, "He was rude, vindictive, and he certainly liked making examples of others. I really didn't like him, but then I got to know him and he wasn't any of those things. He was sweet, kind, caring, and incredibly intelligent. Everything happened so fast with him and suddenly I was in love. For Valentine's day he brought me to France for a picnic, that's why I'm bringing any of this up. I haven't thought about that in forever but having plans now brought all of it back with such detail."

"A picnic in France?" He asked. "I'm beginning to feel like my dinner plans are garbage."

I smiled at him. "We had gotten serious, well, as serious as you can get when you're young, but…he had promises to fulfill, duties to carry out. Someone I thought I could trust advised me to end things with him. It was framed in a way that made me think that keeping him was wrong and leaving him was for a greater good."

"Was it Susan?" I looked at him in confusion. "The person who told you to leave him."

"No, Susan never liked him, but she never…well, she told me to leave him a lot, but ultimately she left the decision up to me. Anyways, I made what I thought was the correct decision and I left this man. I was so in love with him but I didn't want him to resent me when he realized everything he had given up to be with me and that one day he would wake up and realize I wasn't worth it. I was young and panicked and the way I ended it with him ensured that I would never be able to go back to him." Charlie's attention was completely on me but his face was hard to read. "The night I had the melt down you were telling me how amazing I was and praising me and all I could think of was what I did to the last man I liked and I didn't deserve any of the nice things you were saying to me. You're wonderful and kind and I didn't deserve you either. I've done horrible things in my past, things I don't know if I'll ever be able to move past."

His face was pale. "What kind of things?"

I shook my head. "It's complicated."

"I just need to know…" he looked at me with a completely serious face. "Is the reason you can't go back to him because you murdered him?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Of course not."

"Exactly," he said, a small smirk on his lips. "We've all made mistakes, Ruby, but they don't get to dictate whether or not we are deserving of love and praise. Stop being so hard on yourself. How old were you?"

A jolt of panic ran through me. Was it too long ago to still be this concerned about it? I hesitated before answering. "I was eighteen."

"That is a long time to hold on to guilt." he said, placing his hand softly on my knee. "It was your relationship, too. You had every right to end it regardless of the reasoning."

I didn't have the right to take his memories from him, though. I kept this thought to myself, this detail is what made me feel the worst and what made everything complicated. I nodded my head and placed my hand on his.

There was a moment of silence where we sat this way before he spoke. "Do you want to get out of here?"

I looked around at the empty cafe and outside. The icy mixture had changed to rain. I nodded my head.

"Where should we go?" he asked.

"I could eat." I shrugged.

"I know a place." he smiled and handed me my coat.

The next week whirred by as quickly as the weekend. Before I knew it I was standing outside the Knightsbridge station entrance as a cold wind blew through me. I had made the brilliant decision of wearing a flowy, short black dress with nothing on my legs. The wind was sharp and I was attempting to hold my coat tightly around my body while also attempting to keep my dress from blowing up. It had only been a moment but I was ready to turn back into the station and hide from the wind. I felt a gentle pressure on my back that made me jump. I turned to find Charlie on my left.

"Been waiting long?" he asked. My teeth chattered in response. He smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Let's go."

We headed down Brompton Road before turning down a side street and winding through until we arrived at our destination. It was a French restaurant and all I needed was one step inside to know that it was an extremely expensive French restaurant.

"I didn't know about your last Valentine's Day in France when I reserved a table here." Charlie whispered in my ear as we walked up to the maitre d'hotel. "The irony is not lost on me. Reservation for two under Harris." The maitre d' checked his book before nodding, picking up two menus.

"Follow me." he said with a thick French accent. He led us through the dining area to a small table in a dimly lit corner. The spot was romantically secluded but offered an open view of the entire dining area. The restaurant was full of well dressed, obviously wealthy, couples. The table closest to us had a woman with a diamond the size of a silver sickle, her handbag cost more than my parents made in three months, and a fur coat was draped neatly across the back of her chair. I took a quick glance around the dining room and the other tables showed the same types. I suddenly felt very out of my element.

I removed my coat and the maitre d' pulled my chair out for me and I took my seat. Charlie sat across from me.

"You look beautiful tonight." he said to me before he ordered sparkling water for the table.

"I feel underdressed." I said, looking down at my simple black dress.

He shook his head. "Everyone else is heinously overdressed."

"You fit in well." I pointed out looking at his beautifully tailored dark grey suit.

"That's because I am heinously overdressed." he said with a smile that made the butterflies in my stomach surge. "I had a big, important meeting today with some very important people so I had to wear the most important suit I own. It's a happy coincidence that I also got to look good for you as well."

"You look absolutely stunning." I complimented with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Oh, you." he said sheepishly.

I picked up my menu and began glancing over my choices. I was very uneducated when it came to French cuisine and had no idea what I was looking at. I knew Escargot and knew I didn't want that, or did I want to be adventurous? Was Charlie adventurous? We'd stuck mainly to meat pies, sausages, and potatoes to this point.

"I know you are a very independent woman," Charlie said, without looking up from his menu. "But would you mind if I ordered for you?" His eyes flicked up and stared at me, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Feel free." I said with a smile. "I have no idea where to even begin."

"Bit more complicated than bangers and mash, isn't it." he smiled.

I nodded my head as I read the French that might as well have been hieroglyphics.

A waiter brought our sparkling water to the table. "Are you both ready to order?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Can we both please have the five course menu with the classic sommelier pairings?"

The waiter nodded and scribbled on his notepad before picking up our menus and leaving.

"Sommelier?" I questioned.

"Wine pairings with each course," he explained. "A sommelier is someone who specializes in wines and it does really add to the whole experience."

"Charles Harris," I said, placing my hand on my chest, "Are you fancy?"

A smile broke out over his face and he tilted his head in a soft laugh. "I dabble."

With the first course came wine and with wine came an ease of conversation. We talked about our childhoods, our siblings, our parents, work, and anything else that popped in our heads. By the fifth course we each had a pretty thorough timeline of the other's entire life. The food was rich and the wine went to my head. Charlie paid the bill and I stood up to put my coat on. My back had been to the dining room and when I turned around there was a new group of overdressed wealthy couples. Giant diamond was gone and in her place was a man with an overly groomed mustache. A hand gently touched my back, I turned around to find Charlie holding up my coat. I put my arms into the sleeves and he pushed it over my shoulders. I fastened the buttons as he pulled on his own coat.

We entered the chilled night air. The wind had died down but it was still freezing.

"I don't live far from here." Charlie said as we began to walk down the street. "Do you want to see my place?"

I nodded and he took me by the hand and we walked back up to Brompton Road. We walked past the Victoria and Albert Museum and the Natural History Museum until we reached Cromwell Road and took a turn up Gloucester Road. It was only a bit further up that street that Charlie turned to walk up the steps of a white and brown brick row house.

"Here we are." he said as he turned his key in the door.

"This is yours?" I asked, my wine dizzy brain couldn't filter out stupid questions anymore.

"No," he said, opening the door, "I thought tonight I could also introduce you to the world of home invasion."

He ushered me inside the entry. The walls were painted white and the floors were dark wood. The ceilings were high and framed with decorative mouldings and arching doorways led into other rooms.

Charlie took me by the hand. "Shall I take you on the tour?"

He led me to his reception room where large windows looked down on the street, on the opposite wall was a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books. A deep blue velvet sofa sat on a persian rug, a worn armchair rested under a lamp next to an ornate white and gold painted fireplace. Next he took me to the kitchen with sprawling counters, a double oven, and a range that looked as though it belonged in a restaurant. I noticed he kept looking at me trying to gauge my reaction. Everything about this place suggested he was in the same league as the others at dinner.

How could this be Charlie's home? Charlie, who enjoyed pub food, hole-in-the-wall cafes, and buying used books.

"Who are you?" I asked, wandering back to the reception room.

"A bit over the top, isn't it?" he said, placing a hand on the doorway. "It's an investment though. For what this thing cost I'll be able to sell it and buy a nice bit of land in the country when I want to settle down."

"I never expected this to be you." I said, gesturing.

"Most of it isn't." he said, "My mum fancies herself an interior decorator and most of this is her. The armchair is mine, I refused to let her remove it no matter how much she complained about its appearance ruining her vision."

I looked at the old worn armchair. It felt like him.

"The books are mine as well, obviously." I scanned the creased spines of used, well loved, books. "Can I take your coat and would you like a cup of tea?"

I shrugged my coat off and he took it with as he left the room. I wandered around a bit more, trying to see if I could differentiate between things Charlie wanted and decorative pieces his mother picked out. There was an old clock on the mantle above the fireplace. It was a stunning piece but it didn't have the same air as the blue sofa or the extravagant rug. I lifted a hand to touch the scrollwork.

"That belonged to my grandfather." Charlie's voice said behind me. I turned around, slightly startled by his quiet arrival. He held two mugs in his hands. "My mum approved of that one, not that I would have allowed her to remove it if she hadn't." He handed one of the mugs to me. "One lump and a splash of milk, right?"

I nodded and smiled at the thought that he remembered how I took my tea from the first day we spent together all the way back in November. I took a seat on the sofa and he sat next to me. "So," I said, running my hand over the soft velvet. "Your mum just buys you things for your flat? That's nice."

He smiled. "She buys things that I neither want nor need with my own money. She gets away with it too because she makes me feel guilty about living in London."

"How dare you be an adult and live where you want to." I said with mock disappointment.

"That's pretty much her entire argument and then I just hand over my credit card. When I return home there is something new and ridiculous somewhere in my flat. I've made a sort of game out of it, like a hide and seek where I'm always disappointed." He laughed. "Enough of that, believe it or not I don't really want to talk about my mother on Valentine's day. Not when you are sitting here looking the way you do."

My cheeks heated with blush. I looked down into my cup of tea. "And how is it that I look?"

He took my mug silently from my hands and placed it on a coffee table that was too modern looking to have been picked out by him. "Perfect." He whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.