Déjà Vu

Chapter 20

~ Fred ~

The movement of the train underneath his padded train seat feels very nice. Maybe it's because he's just spent a couple weeks being cooked for and taken care of, maybe it's because of the giant farewell breakfast his mother cooked him right before he and his siblings left for the train station, maybe it's because he's still riding the high that came after his day with Evelyn, or maybe it's because he and George lit up a cursitory "End Of Winter Break Joint" not that long ago. Okay, it's probably the last one.

It could very possibly be about Evelyn, though. Everything has felt better after he spent a day with the entirety of her attention on him. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about her since.

He'll be brushing his teeth or tying his shoelaces and then all of a sudden, his mind will be flooded with a recent memory of Evelyn that makes him pause and take a moment to catch his breath. It makes everything better that he gets to have happy memories with her that don't solely exist in the alternate reality that was the last summer. It makes everything feel a bit more real. Achievable.

It's worse now, when he's still a bit high. Things feel too vivid and too real if he closes his eyes.

"Fuck, that looks so good right now," Evelyn said while reaching her hands out for the mug of hot chocolate that Fred brought her.

He chuckled and handed it to her, careful to give it to her handle-first, and then sat down in the seat across from her at the small table with his own mug.

Her eyelids fluttered shut when she took the first sip, slowly taking a drink from the cup while cupping her hands around it to keep her fingers warm. She let out a little "Mmmm" sound—or a moan, would be more accurate—which was much too erotic for the middle of a cafe. Much too erotic for any time, really, especially when Fred wasn't allowed to make her make that exact sound in an entirely different context if he so pleased.

"Is it good?" he choked out.

She pulled the cup away from her face to set on the table, nodding.

Fuck. Now she had a hot chocolate mustache. It really shouldn't have been sexy, but it was. He wanted to lick it off of her.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was reaching forward, carefully wiping the hot chocolate off of her lip with his thumb, and then bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick it off. All while making eye contact with her.

Their eyes both widen at the same time while they process what he just did. Her fingers raise to brush against her upper lip like she's chasing the ghost of his touch.

"Thought you said you were going to keep your hands to yourself?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a hint of a smirk.

He laughed a laugh that was probably a bit too loud for the mostly silent cafe that they were sitting in. He was shocked by her reaction, to say the least. He would expect her to scold him, maybe kick him under the table or tell him she won't spend time with him if he does things like that, but no. It was almost like she liked it. It was almost like they were flirting.

"Well, my first instinct was to lick it off, so."

Her face after he said that was nothing short of gold.

He smiles at the memory, quietly humming in contentedness and sinking further into his seat that is much comfier than he remembers it ever being.