Garfield Logan was self indulgent.

She knew that when she'd started dating him. Still, as she pulled her wool scarf further up and around her neck in the 32 degree heat, no less, one thought crossed her mind: she never thought he'd go this far.

"Gar, there are at least forty-three people ahead of us in this line."

"Yeah?" His pinky tightened around hers, his gaze eyeing on her free hand still fidgeting with her scarf. "Could be worse," his knuckles rolled across hers as he took her hand, fingers intertwining easily. "Could be forty-four."

Her bubblegum popped with a sharp snap! and her lilac-crystal eyes rolled.

Raven crossed her legs at the ankles, shifting her weight for what seemed to be the umpteenth time since they'd gotten there. There, being the line at the Jump City Cafe, which was currently so long that it trailed out the door. The two were at the tail end of the line, with only three customers behind them, and forty ahead. Apparently, the little coffeehouse superpower had started selling Pumpkin Spiced Everything, and apparently, it was Garfield's favorite.

September first had arrived not more than two days ago, yet somehow, Raven already felt like she was living inside of a jack-o'-lantern. Their cozy city apartment was now stalked full of that sweet, seasoned scent; a pumpkin spice candle melting in their living room, empty pumpkin-vanilla creamer cups decorating their counters, and actual, real bright orange pumpkins stealing the surface of her favorite bar stool. Things were getting out of hand.

"But Rae, the pumpkin spice is my favorite! It tastes sooooo good. Pumpkin spice lattes are one of the few delights a vegetarian's got in this world, y'know?"

So she suffered the approximate 89 days, 19 hours, and 23 pumpkin-spice minutes, because hey, it put Gar in a good mood, and she kind of loved him.

"Don't you get sick of this pumpkin-spice flavor?" Tucking a tousled violet lock behind her ear, her free fingers buried in the plaid of her scarf. Keeping her stare bored and straight ahead was almost impossible while a certain changeling's thumb was running ever-so-gently over her index finger. His touch was calloused, slow, relaxed, natural. She could feel his eased mood radiating from his mind, and she was reminded once more why suffering through the season of Pumpkin Spice was absolutely worth it. Nevertheless, she'd keep nagging at him with rolled eyes and petty murmurs, because she'd give almost anything to haveone day free of the obnoxious orange fruit. "Don't you have any other favorite fall flavors?"

The sorceress continued rambling on about apple cinnamon, or hot cocoa, or even caramel apple, which he knew she didn't like. But he grinned at her anyway, half pleased with himself for still being able to get just under that dainty moonlit skin and more than half pleased with how gorgeous she looked under the manufactured glow of the coffee shop's sign.

"Nope, nope, and nope," he flicked her pink bubble, giggling afterwards as he tried to pinch the sticky mess off her bottom lip in one piece. "Pumpkin spice is the only flavor that'll suffice." He grinned, wagging her tiny wad of gum between his fingers before popping it between his own lips. Blowing a bubble much more impressive than hers, Garfield shot her another smug grin. "Sorry, Rae."

The way she rolled her eyes caught the twinkle of the most brilliant constellations, and when her glittering gaze landed on his mischievous emerald hues, the sparkle in her eyes was teasingly hard to read.

"Garfield," her hand buried deeper into the folds of her scarf, and she raised a single brow. "There's not a single flavor out there that you like better than Pumpkin Spice? Not even one?"

Oh.

His grin melted to a smirk, his free hand reaching up to tug just the tip of her scarf away from her neck. Emerald met ruby as he admired the precious redness dotting the place just below the right of her jaw. "Well," the boy was in her space, his breath steaming against the side of her flushed neck, his words eliciting a tender blush to her cheeks. The tips of his canines traced her earlobe, and the smile on his lips was self indulgent as it rubbed against the space where her skin was delightfully untouched.

"I do like the way you taste, Raven."