Out of all the Guardians, Hazel was the most cautious around Toothiana. And the fairy who once forced her to remember her mortal life - whom Hazel made to pay for that in a very dramatic way - felt similar around her. Now that they were all forced to work together and, for worse, spend some time around each other, things were simply tense. Tense and uncomfortable.
Hazel herself wouldn't exactly rush into solving that out, her anger against Toothiana still not completely out of its fire. However the toothfairy was more of a peacemaker, especially when she still felt a little bit guilty. So eventually she asked the Apiarist to join her for a friendly glass, to finally bury their old conflict. And though a little reluctantly, Hazel accepted.
"It's probably for the better," Pitch admitted when she told him about her evening plans. "Though… be careful."
"She's waving a white flag," Hazel objected.
Pitch gave her a long, unreadable gaze: "Still. There's a good chance she'll offer you a fairy wine. Be extremely careful with that. It's delicious but it comes with a terrible price next morning."
Hazel, who expected more of some gloomy warning about Guardians not to be trusted, laughed incredulously: "Goodness, Pitch. I'm old enough to know how to drink, mind you."
"If you say so," he shrugged.
Despite her low expectations of awkward silences and forced small talk, the evening with Toothiana was very lovely in the end. Once they both dropped the old grudges and guards a little, the conversation was flowing and charming. With mutual surprise they both realised that they could be friends. If not right away, then certainly eventually. If things would smooth out a little bit more. There were a lot of stories the fairy could tell from her life and work and she was curious about Hazel and her life with the Boogeyman, unabashedly so.
And the wine, well… The wine certainly helped to thaw the ice. She never drank something like that. Sparkling like a starlight, both light and rich at the same time, reminiscing more breeze and sunlight than any actual taste, it was an experience beyond compare. For a while Hazel wondered what Pitch meant about its perils - it was easy to tell that such a good wine shouldn't do any real damage. Then she forgot about his grim warnings entirely, the wine being so harmless, so easy to drink. Instead she simply enjoyed the moment, the wine carrying her on air-light joyful wave. What was there painful in the past seemed fading in its importance against the cheerful present.
The evening passed in a friendly manner, with a lot more laughter than anyone would expect.
Meanwhile Pitch didn't leave that night. Instead he was going through the dusty books, watching the clock patiently. As far as he could tell, someone was about to learn a new lesson today. Or better to say, tomorrow.
Shortly before midnight Hazel made her way back to their room under the roof. He heard her sooner than she stepped in, the sound of her steps uncharacteristically uneven. Pitch closed the book with a snap, knowing already that he was right.
Hazel felt fantastic. She didn't even remember when she felt so wonderful last time. There were no thoughts at all, just one blessed state of simple existence. The world was brighter and cosier than she remembered it to be and if she was given a chance, she could justdanceall the way up the stairs. She was absolutely positive that the mission was successful, Tooth was such a sweet person and though the fairy might have wronged her in the past, Hazel was more than ready to embrace this new peace arrangement and forgive. Because people should be nice to other people, right? Right. The world needs more love. Oh, how her heart was full of love… So full she couldn't wait to see the only person it really belonged to.
She floated through the door with a wide smile, almost gracefully leaning against the doorframe by one hand. The gravity wasn't very friendly anymore, but she didn't mind. She didn't mind anything in the world by now, in fact.
"Pitch! Oh, I couldn'twaitto see you," she exclaimed happily, seeing him by the fire.
The Boogeyman sighed, but couldn't really contain his amusement over her state.
"The party went well, I see."
"You can't imagine," she chuckled, pacing to him in a bit unsteady manner, "I had aterrifictime. So much laughter and stories and… the wine…" se waved her hand vaguely in an idea of the sheer amounts of all those things.
"I gathered so much," Pitch nodded, taking her gently around her waist. It might had been nice now, but tomorrow the fairy wine would be merciless. Exactly as he warned her, but it didn't surprise him much that it didn't help. "I'm glad you had fun, but you should go to bed now."
But Hazel thought otherwise and stopped immediately, resisting to make a single step more. Turning to him she raised a finger: "Oh, no. No, no. There's one thing you have to know," she stressed with as much serious tone as she could muster now, "one absolutely important thing you have to know."
"You can surely tell me in the bed-"
"No. First this, then bed," she insisted, her eyes wide with the importance of her message. It feltvitalto make this clear. "You. Do you knowexactlyhow much I love you? But like exactly. How much."
Pitch grinned at her, pushing her slightly to move towards the blankets: "Exactly?"
She leaned against him with utmost urgency: "Yes! Exactly a lot, you know. A lot lot!"
"Exactly a lot lot?" he chuckled, but not without a softer edge in his voice, finally making her sit down, kneeling to take her shoes off, "That's very precise, Hazel. I'm glad to know," he looked up at her, both playing along her rules and finding it actually nice to hear that.
"Good. You should know," she murmured contently, curling on the bed and as Pitch layed down next to her, she nuzzled closer, basking in his warmth and all cuddly.
"It was so funny night," she said with a smile, then without any continuity: "I feel like a ferret."
That took Pitch quite by a surprise.
"A ferret?"
"Mmhm. Like a ferret in that.. Place where ferrets sleep. All cozy."
He laughed quietly. He had never seen Hazel in such a state and his best guess was he won't see that again any time soon. The fairy wine had this effect of loosening tongues, lowering guards and making people wear their hearts on their sleeve. With her, that all created a rather adorable combination.
He drew her closer in his embrace: "Then sleep well, my little ferret. You'll need it tomorrow."
Her smile widened, though she didn't open her eyes anymore: "Call me that again."
He leaned closer to her ear, stroking her hair gently: "My little ferret."
"I love the sound of it," she mumbled against his shirt and fell asleep.
Pitch held her close and thought that though her morning shall be awful, the allure of the fairy wine was undeniable. For this warm and affectionate moment he rather wouldn't be anywhere else but here, with her peacefully sleeping next to him.
The morning came with the brutality of a burglar, stealing Hazel's sleep, peacefulness and any sense of dignity. The pain was staggering and she moaned, hiding her head under the blanket as it could dull the throbbing ache inside. Her mouth felt as if she was chewing on old carpet the whole night, her stomach was angrily protesting against her life choices and her whole body simply ached. And the world was so, so loud. Her ownthoughtswere too loud.
"Pitch!"she called out weakly. She needed help.
"Good morning," his voice was close, just next to her, and she didn't need to peek from under the blanket to actuallyhearthe smirk in his voice. "How are you feeling?"
"Like dying," she managed to croak, "I'll die. And then I'll come back and murder .This is pure evil!"
"Wouldn't it be more practical the other way around? Murder her first, die later?" that sickeningly casual voice next to her answered.
"Not funny," she groaned.
"Well, I did warn you," he propped himself on an elbow, dragging the blanket from her face a little to see her, pale and miserable. Just as expected. That was fairy wine for you - a delightful companion before it turned into a mortal enemy.
"Not. Enough." She drew the blanket back, closing herself in the tiny world of mercifully dimmed twilight under. "You said something very vague… Instead of telling me I mustn't ever drink more than a glass, because it's all just a sparkly venom of betrayal…"
He grinned and there was very little sympathy in it: "That would for sure flow nicely. Because you simplyloveit when my warnings sound like orders even in the slightest way…"
She looked out enough to give him a frowned glare.
"You wouldn't listen anyway. I could paint it in a nightmare sand, you still wouldn't listen," he concluded with a calm voice of someone who already came to terms with the inevitability of their partner's thirst for what Hazel called "her own experience."
"But I'm not completely without heart, you know," he added then and handed her a mug of tea from the nightstand.
Hazel accepted it with a wrinkled nose. "I can't do that…"
"You can and you will," Pitch opposed firmly, "for once you will heed my advice and drink it all. It shall help you with the headache."
"Since when does the Boogeyman know hangover remedies?" Hazel murmured to the steam from the tea, sipping slowly. Despite her laments it felt a bit better not to face this torment alone.
"Since he, as pretty much everyone else, had his own share of the fairy wine and its terrible aftereffects," he smirked back, "and you'll need that wisdom. In three hours we are going downstairs to the library."
Hazel's heart sank at the notion, but that was very little compared to the sudden weight in her stomach: "I can't possibly survive that!"
He smiled sweetly: "Then you should better let Toothiana and the others know how miserable you are and why?"
She shook her head though even that was a painful experience.
"You have to help me get into a somewhat presentable state, Pitch," she practically pleaded, "I can't possibly let her see… this."
He tilted his head playfully, but in the end instead of more teasing he just nodded: "Drink the tea, try to sleep a bit more and then we'll see… After all" he added with a growing smile, "I wouldn't want my little ferret suffertoomuch."
Hazel froze mid-sip: "What? Why- why would you call methat?!"
The Boogeyman leaned closer, cheerfully explaining: "Oh, you insisted on it yesterday. But I find it rather adorable. Just like all your confessions."
"My… what?" her voice was suddenly weak and filled with growing horror, which Pitch enjoyed immensely.
"You were very adamant to explain how much you love me. Repeatedly. If I recall well, it'sexactly a lot lot."
"I didn't say that," she practically whined, hiding her face in her hands.
He chuckled, low and warm. "You did," he pulled her fingers away to look her in the eyes, "but you shouldn't worry. I love you a lot lot, too, anyway."
She finally smiled back, though her blush didn't disappear: "Exactly?"
"Absolutely exactly."
