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Chapter 20~ Peppermint and Cinnamon
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Flora Mae’s clock had been stuffed in the bottom of Kit’s backpack for several hours now, resting comfortably against her extra pair of gloves and her newly jostled snow globe. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and no one in London, not even Kit and Bernard, seemed to care. Kit skipped down the steps of The British Museum like a child bouncing out of a toy shop.
“That was amazing! I feel like I’ve visited the world in an hour. They had mummies and Greek statues and the Rosetta Stone!”
“I know,” Bernard laughed. “I remember when it wasn’t broken. I had to be just a kid!”
Kit laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully as they padded down the steps into the wide stone courtyard.
“You know, out of all the stories you told me, those had to be my favorites—the ones where you saw the world hundreds of years ago but could still describe it as if you’d just been there.”
Bernard smiled and admired the clear winter sky. “The world is still the world, just with different people in it.”
Kit smiled to herself and looked his way, noticing the sharp tips of his ears beginning to poke out of his newsboy cap.
“Wait,” she said, stopping him. Kit drew closer and tucked his ears gently behind the fabric, letting her fingers rest for just a moment. Then, a strange thing happened. Bernard’s eyelids fluttered closed and his breath hitched in his throat. A look of astounding pleasure crossed his face for a moment before he snapped back into reality. He pulled away immediately and hardened his face. Kit’s hand remained suspended there as a peculiar feeling filled her up—one of embarrassment and longing, the very same way she’d felt while looking at the snow globe. Finally, she drew her hand back in and pushed her gaze away. The stagnant silence set in again. Kit longed badly to break it.
Bernard coughed and turned to the open courtyard in front of them. “Maybe the park next?”
Kit feigned a smile and nodded. Bernard led the way as Kit fought with the urge to understand the feelings and bury them deep down at the same time.
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Kit had heard stories of Hyde Park in the past but never knew it to be a picturesque winter wonderland. It looked like something out of a painting. Dark trees like veins rooting out of a gentle blanket of snow. Horse-drawn carriages paraded through the icy paths, carrying laughing children and parents. The old-fashioned lamp posts began to glow a brassy yellow as the shadows of sundown began their approach. Snowmen of all shapes and sizes were left in the fields of white, greeting each and every person who passed by. Even the cold gray lake over the old stone bridges reflected a chilling, metallic beauty. Kit had seen places like this in the North Pole, but this was much more city-like, connecting both of her worlds into one heavenly site. An acoustic guitar strumming “Auld Lang Syne” ushered Kit and Bernard into the entrance of the park. And while the coldness of the park refused to shy away, Kit felt a warmth like none other draw her deeper in.
“It’s beautiful…” Kit lulled to herself, gazing at the calm and festive scenery about them. And Kit came to remember that it was precisely moments such as this that made her thankful for her heritage. She wasn’t naive. How could she be if places like this existed in the world to prove them wrong?
Kit snuck a look at the unknowing Bernard and smirked.
“Who knows? Maybe tonight you’ll get to make a couple of kid’s Christmas wishes come true.”
“Doubtful,” Bernard said, just a hint of judgment in his voice. “Most of these kid’s wishes are video games or makeup.”
Kit snickered, pulling her coat tighter around her frame. “Do you know my Christmas wish?”
Bernard looked at her, a twinkle in the depths of his eyes. “I wish I didn’t.”
They laughed as Kit playfully shoved him aside.
“I don’t even think you do. I can be surprisingly deceptive when I want.”
They began their stroll down the park path, the way lit with strings of lights and lush garland.
“We all have our special talents. Mine happen to be immortality and actual magic. Yours: a great acting ability and a wide vocabulary.”
Kit feigned a look of astonishment. “Hey, magic can be limiting. My vocabulary is ever-lasting.”
“Yeah,” Bernard teased with a grin, “But, can you speak 6,000 languages?”
Kit smiled and shook her head. “Now you’re just showing off.”
As the two rounded a corner in the path, they came upon the winter fair, fully decorated in spruce trees, white light decorations, rides, market shops, and food stands emanating sweet and savory smells of every kind. A perfect idea popped into Kit’s mind and, as she turned to Bernard, she found his attention hers with the same thought.
“Hot chocolate?” he offered.
“Did you have to ask?”
The two scurried through the crowds of people, weaving through them in bundles of laughter and joy. Just as Kit made it through the crowd, she heard a thump behind her as Bernard slipped in the snow.
“Bernard!” She ran back to his side. “Are you hurt?”
But, he was still floating in laughter. Kit almost hoped he’d pull her down with him. As he got to his feet, Kit dusted off the snow in his hair and retrieved his hat from the ground.
“You know, I think I’m really liking the London Bernard.”
“You mean the clumsy Bernard?” he chuckled.
She fitted the hat back on his head and dusted off the rest of the snow from his coat. “One and the same, right?”
Kit had used a few more of their pounds to order hot chocolate—Bernard’s with peppermint and two shots of espresso and Kit’s with three marshmallows and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Nothing more, nothing less.
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“You have a mustache,” Kit giggled, pointing to the white foam across Bernard’s upper lip as he pulled away from his last few sips.
“Oh, this?” he said. “I’m thinking of growing it out. Us elves can’t grow facial hair, but I’ve been really working on this one. Think I’m gonna surprise a few people when we go back.”
Kit laughed as Bernard wiped off the cream.
“I mean, do we really even have to go back?” Kit took another sip, but Bernard squinted back at her, half unsure.
“Of course we have to go back, Kit. Eventually, we’ll have to start looking for Father Time and somehow explain to Charlie and Scott how we landed here. Besides, we have to save the world and your mom.”
Kit shifted uncomfortably on the steel park bench where they sat. “I know. Today was just so wonderful. And I know things will be different when we go back. I’d rather just stay here and spend the time that I do have doing what I love.”
A spot deep inside Bernard flickered again, and he almost let himself give in like he so desperately wanted to. Today had been everything he’d longed for for months and more. For one day, it didn’t feel like she was worlds away but that they were closer than ever, and even a time-space crisis couldn’t separate them. But soon, it’d all be over again—maybe this time for good.
Bernard peered across the field of tourist attractions and snack stands towards a beautiful blueish-white ice rink in the corner of the park.
“Hey, um, do you still skate with your friends at the Rockefeller Center every year?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Bernard smiled and took her hand. “Come with me.”
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“Are you sure you’re good at this, Bernard?” Kit hesitantly asked as Bernard finished lacing up his bright blue skates.
“Are you kidding? I’ve had 3,000 years of practice, and I live in the North Pole. I practically live on skates.”
Kit smirked. Bernard rose to his feet and set Kit’s backpack on the edge of the rink. With a solitary push, he was on the ice beside her.
“I’m glad to see those 3,000 years have humbled you out too, huh?”
“Haha. Laugh now, but I’m going to skate circles around you. Literally.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Kit and Bernard took off around the large white rink glowing in gold fairy lights strung from above. A towering Christmas tree took center stage in a blue and white gazebo in the middle of the rink. Surrounding the tree was a modest string and brass band playing a sweet version of “Silver Bells”. The crowds were normal but joyous as a light dusting of snow began to fall quietly in the park. The black sky above them was no match for the magical warmth emanating from the fair—so perfect that Kit thought it might be the work of someone more powerful than herself. The smell of pine and spiced apples filled Kit’s every sense as she rushed through the cold air after Bernard. She weaved through the people with expert agility, but perhaps she’d be no match for the born-and-bred ice elf. He was only a few feet ahead of her, gliding across the ice with infuriating ease. Kit pushed her back leg with all her strength as she rounded the last corner and cut him off finally, throwing her arms up in victory.
“Yes!” she squealed ecstatically. The two hooked arms and slowed themselves to a stop, catching their breaths as the band’s song came to a close. They swiftly returned with a rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”.
“I can’t believe I won!”
“Oh, you cheated.”
“Did not!” Kit chirped, grasping onto Bernard’s arm tightly and excitedly. Suddenly, an untrained skater flew in her direction and collided with her shoulder roughly. Kit slipped to the side, her legs going out from under her as her face hit the ice.
“Kit!” Bernard rushed to her side and helped her arms off the ice, a pounding in his chest. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” He helped to lift her head off the ice and noticed a small red cut on her cheekbone.
Kit blinked, obviously dazed but seemingly unhurt. “I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”
Kit sat up and Bernard grabbed the sides of her face, examining the graze as carefully as possible. A lock of her soft, warm brown hair fell onto Bernard’s fingers, and he felt his stomach leap against his already tangled nerves. His thumb brushed the cut, and Kit hissed at the sting, shutting her eyes. Her hand instinctively laid over his hand atop her cheek. And he smelled like mint and old books.
“Sorry, I…” he started, not finding the strength in the shaking in his chest to finish. She was so close to him, like never before. And the ice rink fell into the background. London was gone. It was just Kit and Bernard so close and her touch so warm against his cold fingers.
He could smell the cinnamon on her lips. He could feel her warm, short breaths on his own. And, suddenly, he didn’t want anything else in the whole world. He didn’t care about anything else. He just wanted to know what she might taste like.
Bernard closed the space between them and kissed her with a longing that had been nestled inside of him for far too long. His eyes fluttered closed, and he suddenly felt the sensation of sinking into a warm bath, every nerve upended and flooded with a new, inviting heat. A heat that paralyzed him. Her heat. And he ached to get burned so very badly.
But, for Kit, it was all wrong.
Kit pulled away after a few seconds, the taste of peppermint and sugar still on her lips and the very tip of her tongue. Her heart was wrapped in cotton, so enveloped in new sensations that she felt as if she was suffocating. Her stomach sank, and she didn’t know what to think. But, suddenly all her feelings from the past several months made sense.
Silence. Frozen silence. Their hands fell away. They looked at each other as if seeing one another for the first time. Not one of them knew what next to say, what next to do. But, Kit felt the water surge around her and hoped the ice might break and pull her under. Silent, shaken tears brimmed her eyes, and she raced off the ice. Kit tore off her skates and returned to her boots. Bernard wasn’t far behind her, hurriedly pulling off his own skates. Kit grabbed her backpack, desperately trying to hold back her tears and marching off across the nearby snowy park trail.
“Kit!” Bernard called, a deep feeling of dread settling into his bones. She didn’t respond. She didn’t turn. “Kit, stop!” Quickly, he caught up to her in the middle of the path and reached for her arm. “Kit…”
She abruptly spun around, the tears streaming down the sides of her cheeks one by one and aggravating her cut. Her lip quivered and her shoulders shook. “Why did you…why…” she tried.
“Because,” Bernard said, his own voice breaking, “you had to know. I care about you. I always have.”
“No,” she forced out of her, shaking her head assuredly, “No. No, you’re my best friend.”
Bernard pulled her hands into his and squeezed. “And you’re mine, Kit, but I want to be more than that. I can’t get you out of my head. You’re all I think about, all I care about. Kit, you have to feel this too.”
“No,” she reiterated, pulling away a bit too forcefully. “No. I…I can’t. You’re…too important. No.”
She met his eyes, puppy-like and wide and begging for some hint of hope. And a part of Kit shriveled up inside as the tears came flooding again. She didn’t want to hurt him. He was the last person she wanted to hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, soundlessly.
“Please,” he begged, lips beginning to quiver, “Don’t.”
Kit pulled away, turned, and left the trail, her head hanging down. Bernard watched her go, a hole beginning to open up in his chest. His heart was moving, as painful as it might’ve been. And everything before had just been comatose. But, he was sure comatose was easier.
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