Snow Boots (#3)

l i g h t s

"In the winter, she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold." – Ben Aaronovitch, Broken Homes

DEDICATION: trashkant for the kind comment on the previous chapter <3

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"Quinnie, oh Quinnie, let down your hair!"

"Er, why don't you just open the door and come inside?"

"No, play along!"

"Why? What're you doing?"

"We're rehearsing the scene when Andrew wakes up and you two reunite! Then you'll share a romantic kiss, and it'll be just like the fairy–"

"Hold on a sec! Since we're mimicking, does that mean I'll have to kiss you?"

"Ah... I didn't really think that through."

"I am not kissing you. No way, Jose."

"What's a hosay?"

"It's– you know what? Never mind. Besides, I doubt Andrew's parents would let him come back to the lodge after the accident."

"But– But– I had your fairytale ending planned out!"

"Sorry Twist, but this one ain't gonna be a happily ever after, by the looks of it."

"Well, even if you guys don't elope, you still owe each other an apology, right?"

"He owes me one, I owe him one. That balances out, therefore neither of us owe each other an apology."

"I'm so disappointed in your morals."

"I really don't give a damn, my dear."

"The guilt won't go away unless you apologise for it! C'mon, don't end on bad terms."

"The guilt can go take a hike and plummet off a cliff."

"Quinnie, I'm being serious. Do you wholeheartedly regret your dickishness?"

"It's hard to be serious when you're using that accent, but sure."

"Then strut over to him and say it to his face, sista!"

"How about we wait for him to recover, and then we start planning?"

"Bah, fine. You oldies and your patience."

"Oh, and Oliver?"

"Yes, dearest Quinnie?"

"If you ever call me sista again, I will saw your nose off."

"Oh, hun. Voldemort is my past, present, and future."