Alice found herself smiling often in the weeks that followed the excursion to the chocolate factory. William came to visit often, and always brought her sweet treats when he did. Of course, he was very discreet in his delivery, and Alice was always sure to eat them out of the old man's line of sight. The sweetest treat of all, in Alice's mind, was William's kisses. His lips tasted like maraschino cherries, and there was something so inexplicably delicious about the way his breath halted, how he shuddered and whimpered against her when she kissed him. Alice liked watching his fair face redden, and his eyes change. From happily content and sparkling dark eyes, into something heavy, something hungry. William looked at her as though he thought she was a sweet treat that he wanted to devour, but he always touched her so lightly. His fingertips just barely brushed over her. Her hands, her elbows, her chin. He made her heart race so fast, there were times when his lips were pressed against hers when Alice thought she might die. Oh, but there are surely worse ways to die. Alice thought as she kissed him. Again, and again, and again. The two shared secret, stolen kisses. As many as they thought they could sneak, away from prying eyes. Alice had always prided herself in her sensibility. In her ability to adjust, and in her ability to keep herself safe. Now, she nearly didn't recognize herself. How could she find such joy and reckless abandon in kissing the son of her employer? Surely that was a fireable offense. Even the mere possibility would have dissuaded her in the past. Yet here she stood, with her arms around William, and her lips on his neck. Watching his Addams apple bob nervously as he swallowed hard. Alice had kissed a handful of boys in the orphanage during her time there. But never before had she felt this. She would have remembered it if she had.
William joined Alice and the Dentist for dinner every night. As they ate, he told stories of his adventures and tall tales of happenings and goings on inside the factory. The Dentist offered a curt nod every now and then, but Alice could see he enjoyed William's presence. The relationship seemed to be mending, yet, as precarious as it was Alice thought that it would be best to keep her romance with William a secret from the old man. Surely their kisses, as sweet as they were would disrupt the delicate balancing act between the father and son. She would not do anything to jeopardize William's happiness. Having his father in his life, made him happy. You could see it in his eyes. He lit up when the Old man asked him anything, like a small child receiving praise. And the old man himself, that old grump, seemed to appreciate WIlliam's company a little more every time he came. He seemed slow to warm up but he was getting there, Alice thought. He seemed more like Alice's father than William's at times. Alice was surprised to realize it herself, that she thought of him as a father as well. He was the closest that she had ever come to know a safe, stable, caring, albeit begrudgingly older man in her life. And he did care. Alice knew he cared for her. In the many silent, caring gestures of kindness, he made to her throughout the day. Such as opening doors for her, carrying boxes, pulling out her chair for her, and setting a cup of tea out for her whenever he made one for himself. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. Alice shuddered to think of what his reaction would be if only he knew. She wondered what would be the graver offense in his eyes. That she knew what his son tasted like, and tasted him often? Or that she ate the sweets he brought her, and did not brush her teeth immediately afterward.
