“More time to keep your attention all on me then,” Charles jested playfully, “And there’s nothing wrong with making a living. You do what you need to do.”

Charles had never really understood the notion that women had to be a certain way and be the housekeepers whilst the men could go around earning as much money as they wanted. He’d seen how capable women were didn’t particularly enjoy how wasted their potential was. He certainly didn’t want Emmeline to waste hers and he could tell she had a lot of potential; she was to do great things.

“But I’m definitely getting you an owl now,” He said, “a white one. With big eyes. That won’t bite me.” He nodded.

His eyes drifted momentarily to her lips before he turned to look her back in the eyes; they really were something out of the ordinary. He could get lost in those eyes of hers for eternity if he could.

---

  

"You are awful," Emmeline responded with a smirk, "Though I'm pretty sure my parents wouldn't mind in the slightest having you here. They really did quite like you." In fact, they'd asked her if they'd be seeing more of him or not. She hadn't really known how to answer the question so she'd just shrugged it off. She still wasn't sure if she knew how to answer the question.

"And I know that," she continued on, "I actually quite like that idea of working. I don't envy the rich girls that have to be prim and proper all the time doing boring things like embroidery and whatnot. Though.." She stopped there, not sure if she should even mention her piano skills. She didn't get to play except for when she was at school. When the family had fallen on hard times, the piano was the first thing to be sold.

She shook her head at his mention of an owl. "You really don't need to do that," she answered honestly, doing het best to give him the best intimidating look she could muster, "When I'm back at school I'll have use of their owls. And if it weren't for the fog, I could surely borrow the Post Office's owls. That's what they're there for after all."

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#LovelyLadySet

"I'm glad to know I've already gotten their approval, Ems. It was worrying me," Charles laughed a little. He didn't meant much with those words beyond a joke but the lingering thought kept with him; they'd hinted, or explicitly mentioned, marriage on more than one occasion though as quickly as the thought entered his mind, had it left - like a fleeting gust of wind.

He listened intently at her words; his eyes moving to watch them form from her mouth. She was extremely eloquent for a working class girl and he found it enchanting almost. However, as soon as she trailed off, Charles changed topic to one of owls and she, yet again, tried to shoot down his idea.

This time, however, he was going to have none of it. Shaking his head and moving a little closer to her, Charles huffed a little, "And in times like this, you need your own owl," He nodded, not paying much heed to whatever the face she was pulling was. She could have been trying to be intimidating but he couldn't tell, "And there you go with your pouting again. As cute as it is, do you always need to pout at me?"

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Approval was perhaps putting it lightly. They were smitten with him. He'd charmed his way through dinner and she was fairly sure she'd never stop hearing about him. There was certainly nothing that could be done for it now though. She had been the one to invite him in for dinner after all.

She was about to protest but his calling her cute stopped her rather abruptly and brought a blush to her cheeks. She was certain he only meant it in a joking manner but it still made her blush regardless. It probably always would.

"I'm not pouting," she said defensively as she grabbed her empty glass. She noticed it was empty and looked at him with a raised brow. "You're not a very good bartender," she added with a raised brow directed right at him.

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles grinned as she held out her glass to him and he stood up, "Fine," he retorted as he grabbed her glass and as stylishly as he good, filled it.

His style, though, consisted of spinning around and then pouring it before presenting it to her with a slight bow. Not very skilful though he was hoping she would enjoy it. And once she'd taken it, his moved to stand up once again and then he saw her.

He saw her flushed red cheeks, her dark brown eyes. The curls of her lips drawn into a smile; the way a strand of hair on one side was hanging down ever so slightly. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear, looking deeply into her eyes with an almost longing gaze, their noses not an inch apart.

"You're blushing," He said softly before pulling away after a few seconds and coughing, "and I need another drink."

Taking another hearty swig from the bottle, and sitting back down, "you definitely were pouting."

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Emmeline's cheeks were still flushed fromthe blush but as she laughed at his antics, they seemed to flush more. Along with watered eyes again, she couldn't help the crinkling of her nose while wiping her eyes and laughing more. She happily accepted the drink and finished it but promptly decided it was the last. Four had been too many before so maybe three would be her lucky number.

But then things took a turn and he was so close she could smell ever scent he had. From the rum on his breath to the hint of cologne or whatever it might be he wore as well as the salty tang of sweat. It was intoxicating and she found herself blushing even more.

"It's your fault," she ended up saying after he'd coughed and stepped away. Whether she was talking about the blushing or the pouting, she didn't say. And thenshe found herself wondering if she should have a fourth after all.

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#LovelyLadySet

"The pouting?" Charles asked as he poured another drink for her without so much as a thought to whether she wanted one. It was more instinctive and habitual, truth be told, "Or the blushing?" He smiled once again, taking another swig.

There was something beyond compelling about the way her face told every story she was going through. The scruff of her nose, the way her cheekbones melded into that soft smile. Everything about her was absolutely compelling and he found himself just watching her for a moment. No words; just watching.

Taking another swig from the almost  empty bottle, Charles stood up though stumbled forward slightly toward her.

He looked her in the eyes, their noses brushing gently across one another, and swallowed. She... She was incomprehensible to him. And he knew he would likely regret his next action though against his better judgement, Charles planted a soft kiss on her lips and lingered against her for a while, his eyes closing, bottle firm in hand as he clutched the table for support.

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"Both," was Emmeline's simple but honest answer. He had a way of making her blush without wanting to run away and a way of getting her to pout her lips even if she was only doing so playfully. None of it made sense. It was confusing and surreal but there they were. He'd poured her another glass and she seriously consider it but before she could make a decision he had stumbled and was so close to her face again that she felt their noses touch.

A shiver ran through her whole body at the contact, her eyes widened as well. She stared back at him, watching him looking at her. She should have expected what was to happen next, but she didn't. Apparently she was never going to be able to predict when a man decided to kiss her.

That soft contact brought a small and quiet hum of appreciation from her lips. Before she could possibly push the kiss further, however, the sound of the front door opening reached her ears and she pulled back with a squeak and stared at him with wide eyes. A look of "oh shit" clearly evident on her face.

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles could feel her breath wisp past his lips as he moved in for the kiss; her body tightening slightly in response. It felt as if everything that was bad in the world – for a brief moment – had washed away and all that was left was Emmeline Woodcroft. It was gentle, unforceful, and light. It just… it felt like something he’d wanted to do. It felt right. At least, as right as a person who had drunk almost an entire bottle of rum thought it would be.

The kiss ended abruptly however when Emmeline pulled away with wide-eyes. Curious and a little confused, Charles turned around to see what was going on. And what was going on was that her parents had just walked into the room. They were stood there just looking though they didn’t say a word.

He turned around and cautiously placed the rum on the table, running his hand through his hair, “Mr and Mrs Woodcroft,” Charles swallowed, putting on the most charming smile he could muster, “I thought I’d come around and get acquainted with the potential recruit. She was regaling me with stories about her schooling,” He nodded, nudging Emmeline slightly as if to ask for help, “it was rather fascinating.”

Well, this was awkward.

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Emmeline had sincerely hoped that they would have been able to get away with it. That her parents wouldn't have seen Charlie kissing her in the kitchen. Unfortunately, luck was clearly not with her. And if looks could kill, they'd likely be dead from the way her father was looking at them. Or at her at least. Her mother, on the other hand, looked positively giddy. Shit.

"Yes!" she exclaimed quickly, "After all, there's plenty of adventures to be told from Hogwarts.."

She was so dead.

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles nodded and looked to the rum before turning back to the parents, “And I hope you don’t mind, I helped myself. I thought it would ease the tension to speak with Miss Woodcroft on a more…” Intimate? Personal? “Informal level. It helps calm nerves and allows me to get a… true picture of the type of recruit she could be,” He smiled, talking a kind-of-clumsy-and-trying-too-hard-not-to-fall-over step toward her father, offering his hand to shake. He had no idea how his words were sounding by this point.

Obliging, though cautious, Mr Woodcroft shook Charles hand and proceeded to smile politely toward Mrs Woodcroft, “If you wish I leave, I wouldn’t wish to intrude. Though if Miss Woodcroft, and yourselves wouldn’t mind, I would much prefer to stay a little longer and ask a few other questions – of course, if that is alright,” He then turned to Emmeline once again, with some sort of smirk, “And if Miss Woodcroft is content with that too, of course.”

Really, he just wanted to stay in her company a little longer. He had no idea, though, how obliging the parents would be. Or even Emmeline.

And her cheeks were still a bright red. Cute.

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Emmeline watched as her mother gave her father a look accompanied with a smirk. Her mother then excused herself to go put some things away upstairs and nudged her father to help her. He gave them both one last scathing look before following his wife. Once they were out of the room, Emmeline punched Charlie in the arm.

"What in the world is wrong with you?" she said, eyes wide and cheeks still aflame, "You ask to stay after they've found us in a rather compromising sort of position?!" But then she was laughing as she put her face into her hands. What a night it was turning out to be.

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#LovelyLadySet

Jolting to the side when she punched him, Charles shot her a scornful – albeit tinged with a playful kind of grimace – look.

“They suspected nothing,” he lied to himself more than anyone else, “at any rate. I don’t see them trying to kick me out.” Charles tried to sound serious as she laughed into her hands, his eyes giving her some sort of look that tried to say he was Mr. Serious though came out more like Mr. Serious-but-kind-of-actually-not.

“Also, it’s rude to punch. I’m hurt,” He pouted, “Now, seeing as we’re alone again. Where were we?” Charles smirked.

Taking a step toward her, he placed his hands on her hips and looked deeply into her eyes. An ever soft smile on his features. Then, after a brief moment, Charles reached over her and grabbed the rum bottle.

“I suppose he won’t mind,” He grinned.

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Emmeline just laughed harder as he tried to look and sound serious though she wasn't covering her face anymore. He did at least have a point. Though the look on her father's face was enough for him to think him absolutely crazy when he got close to her again and even put his hands on her hips. Though she started laughing again as he took the bottle of rum.

"I'm pretty sure you're just a glutton for punishment," she said with a smirk as she tapped the tip of his nose with a finger, "Meanwhile, my headstone will say 'Here lies Emmeline, the girl who was only ever kissed if the man was drunk.'"

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#LovelyLadySet

Scrunching his nose as she pressed her finger against it, Charles grabbed the rum.

As she spoke, he slumped back into the chair and turned on the chair to face her, “Who’s to say next time we kiss I’ll be drunk?” He said with a tease, he took another swig before widening his eyes.

Oh Merlin.

Eyes widening slightly, Charles passed her the bottle, “Erm, drink up. Why am I a glutton for punishment, Miss Woodcroft?”

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Emmeline stared back with wide eyes and a bright blush. She certainly hadn't expected that sort of answer from him. But she shook her head at the bottle and slipped from the table to sit in her own chair.

"You're still drinking a man's rum, in his home, after kissing his daughter," she said, as if it made all the sense in the world as to why he was a glutton for punishment. Especially considering the look that they'd gotten from her father. They'd be lucky if he didn't insist on a proposal from Charlie right then and there.

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#LovelyLadySet