you are an odd one, mr grinch

I don't even know why this was posted. Not really, anyway. All I know is that only these guys could have such a freakishly long conversation about tea, and these guys are like the third awesomest couple to have the same hair colour.


Bella hummed softly to herself as she entwined her and Will's fingers.

He swung them, grinning at her with that stupid smile she positively adored, as she dove into her pocket to grapple for her keys. "There they are," she muttered, snatching them and inserting them into the locked front door.

She pushed open the front door, dust motes swirling in the sunlight that filtered through her big French windows.

She ducked her head and made a beeline for the kitchen, smiling at his plodding footfalls following her in. She flicked on the kettle and swung open her china white painted cupboards, reaching for some smelly herbal tea Cleo had dumped on her after Lewis had originally gifted it to the brunette.

She felt hands wrap around her waist, lips press into her hair. She smiled. "You need something, sweetheart?"

"You look nice."

She gasped, clutching her chest. "Are you implying I don't look nice everyday?"

He clucked at her. Over the years he'd probably gotten used to her frequent playful jabs. "Oh, very funny. But who am I to deflate your sense of self-importance? Fine, Bella, you look absolutely radiant every single second of my little entitled life. I'm so lucky to have you."

She laughed and twisted to press a kiss against his lips. "That's better." She said, turning back to the kettle and hovering over a yet unfilled mug. "Tea?"

"That awful stuff Cleo victimised you with? No thank you."

"Don't be such a baby," she said, "You'll have a cup."

"Yeah, a cup of poison."

"I'm sure Lewis wouldn't have gotten it if he thought it would kill you," she said. "Or then again, maybe he would—"

She stopped as she felt a light tug on one of her blonde locks. "Alright, fine. But I'm sure it's fine, and the least you can do is have a cup," she said.

"If I die of stroke—"

"Then you'll be doing me a favour." She turned around, shoving a steaming mug into his hands and pouting at him. "Come on. If you die, well, I'll die too. Let's be like Romeo and Juliet!"

"Romeo and Juliet didn't die by poison tea."

"Humour me, you jerk," she said, taking a sip from her own cup. "Now go sit down."

His spun on his heel, proclaiming, "Yes ma'am!"

"And don't spill that tea!"

She took another sip and joined him after a few moments, plopping down—being careful not to splosh her tea—on one of her burgundy couches.

He'd set his mug on a coaster, placing it in the middle of the table as if simple exposure would prove lethal. He cringed. "I'd forgotten how ugly these couches are."

"They aren't that bad."

"It looks like somebody died on it."

She rolled her eyes. "Very eloquent. Well done. Gold star."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"What would you think it is?"

He frowned with faux hurt, "I don't know, heartfelt praise?"

She grinned. "Now you know that's not my style."

He rolled his eyes at her, to which she responded by waggling her tongue. He pursed his lips, looking like he was trying hard not to laugh.

She dragged her eyelids downward—resulting in looking like and Asian person, or someone who'd had plastic surgery that had gone severely wrong—and bared her teeth at him. "Rawr!"

His grin spilt and he laughed, long and loud. "You're insane," he said, after getting over his bout of giggles. "You really are insane."

"And you're immature."

"Coming from the woman who insisted on being Aurora for Halloween, and screamed at Emma for suggesting anything different?"

"Emma would make a crappy Aurora!"

He shook his head and chuckled.

She folded her arms, frowning something awful. "I don't like you."

"Ten points for maturity, Bella,"

She huffed, making a face. "Just drink your tea, alright?"

"Again—" he said, grinning at her, "—you're insane."

She nodded, pulling an about-face. "Hmm. Alright."

His eyebrows shot up. "Alright? You mean you've come to terms with your insanity?"

She leaned forward, her soft blue eyes glinting in the lazy afternoon light, "Drink your tea,"

He stared down at his tea, making a point to push it aside, before getting up and hopping over to join her on the other couch.

"What are you doing...?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips, her eyebrows raising.

"Hmm. Let's see." He clutched her shoulders, rubbing her forearms. "I believe I am kissing my girlfriend."

He pressed his lips to hers, tucking his fingers under her chin.

She murmured, breaking off and pressing her forehead against his, "I thought I was insane?"

He smiled, whispered as he claimed her lips with his, "Insanity is a relative term."


Naughty, naughty Will, there you go contradicting yourself. ;)

By the way, I didn't mean anything by that Asian/eyelids comment, it was simply to paint a picture. And, Will may seem a tad OOC, but the point is he's had four years to get over his shyness problems.

Oh, and another thing? Don't get me started on my same hair colour couple theory. You will not like what I have to say.