Down to business.

[dracolicious]

Once again, Potter has been tormenting me by keeping busy in the kitchen, crafting delicious and fragrant things I cannot pilfer. Since we'll be hosting a mass Easter egg hunt at Widdleton tomorrow morning and the extensive hunting and gathering shall end with starving ankle biters, the ends justify the means

Comments

[boywholives]

Spare a moment for your husband? I want you to try these...

[boywholives]

Any new bite marks that I should know about before you strip?

[dracolicious]

You'll find out sooner or later anyhow, won't you?

[boywholives]

I'm not sure if I should be jealous or glad that he likes you better.

[dracolicious]

Neither am I. Perhaps it's time to invest in one of those special bite-proof suits they use to train police dogs.

[boywholives]

I'd offer myself up in your place, but clearly he doesn't want to, so...

[dracolicious]

Yet, if the opportunity strikes. . . .

[boywholives]

He'd still rather have you.

[dracolicious]

And Oscar would rather have you, so we're still evenly matched. Settle down.

[boywholives]

Oscar isn't my own flesh and blood.

[dracolicious]

Which means he isn't required to love and adore you, and yet.

[boywholives]

Shush, you. And budge up so that I can wash your back.

[dracolicious]

If you insist.