As usual, chapter also found on tumblr
Day 5: Makeup
Banana milkshakes with blueberries on top should be a mandatory part of breakfast, Bea decides after taking a sip from the glass in front of her. Ben had really pulled out all the stops, so the table was filled with pancakes, eggs, toast, and orange juice, but the banana milkshakes truly were the cherry on top. Or, as today would have it, the blueberry on top! Ben had brought out his laptop, and they watch Wreck-It-Ralph while eating the most elaborate breakfast Beatrice had eaten since the last one before the aunts left. Ben was a surprisingly good chef, but didn’t seem to want to boast about his kitchen skills.
“Ah, well”, Ben says with a bashful smile, “it’s just something I had to learn. I’m on my own a lot, you know, so…” Bea nods, knowing that his parents are a sensitive topic with him. Both of them are always really busy at work, and rarely make the time to be home in time for dinner, or even in time to see their son for more than a few minutes. Bea remembers the summer when they were fourteen, and how Ben loved to come over to the Duke house. His face had always lit up when Hero’s mums had asked him how he’d been since they saw him last (even if it had only been one day), and they had always paid attention to what he said, something Bea quickly found out his parents rarely did. Determined to change that bashful smile into a proper grin, she leans over and grasps his hand.
“Well, you’re more than welcome to cook me breakfast whenever you want. In fact, why don’t you cook all my meals for me? You could be ‘Personal chef of Miss Beatrice Duke’!” Ben’s eyes tell her he knows what she’s doing, but he grins widely nonetheless.
“’Personal chef’, huh? I think I prefer the title of ‘boyfriend’!” He leans over to give her a quick peck on the lips, and then they turn back to Ralph and Vanellope.
When the film is over, they begin to clear the table, while discussing how important it is to have films showing the importance of friendship. Before they’ve finished putting the leftover in the fridge, they have moved on to talking about Harry Potter, and which relationship is the most important one in the series, and when they start on the dishes, they are in a full-blown argument over who was closer to predicting things revealed in the final novel.
“There is no way you could have predicted that Dumbledore’s wand would be an important plot point in the seventh book!” Bea scoffs at her boyfriend. “You’re just saying that so you’ll sound cleverer!”
“Am not!” Ben shoots back. “We knew Ollivander was taken in the sixth book, so obviously Voldemort wanted something with wands, right? And I never believed Snape was evil, so obviously something had to be up with the way Dumbledore died, okay? Since he couldn’t foresee how Malfoy would confront him, he didn’t know he’d lose his wand, so that was something not part of his plan. And if Dumbledore’s plan didn’t go the way it was planned, whatever didn’t would obviously be something important in the end. So, yeah, I saw it coming. I’m just brilliant that way!”
“Oh, please!” Bea complains. “This is clearly something you figured out halfway through the seventh book, and you just think it sounds cooler to way you thought it out before you’d even read any of it. I, however, am precisely as brilliant as you think you are. I figured out who R.A.B. was before I’d even finished the sixth book!” Ben gasps, and points an accusing finger at her.
“Liar! You did no such thing! You’re just trying to upstage me, is all! I’d have believed you if you’d said you figured out that the locket from the fifth book was the horcrux, but there’s no way you knew R.A.B. was Regulus!”
“Hey, just because you’re now bright enough to figure it out, even though we got several hints about it, don’t you go blame it on me! I just got a knack for predicting things; I even predicted one of the twins wouldn’t make it through the last book.”
“Oi!” Ben raises his finger to point at her, accidentally flinging soap suds onto her t-shirt. “Don’t mention Fred’s death; I’m still in mourning!” Bea flings soap suds back at him.
“Hey!” Ben grabs a spoon from the mountain of dishes, dips it quickly into the water, and flicks it like a wand at her. Unfortunately, the spoon had been used to put strawberry jam onto the pancakes, and watery drops of red jam are now spattered like freckles across Bea’s cheeks. Both of them stand completely still for a few seconds, just looking at each other, before Bea breaks the silence.
“Alright, I’ll get you for that, Hobbes!” she quickly reaches over, and palms a few leftover blueberries. Before Ben can react, she steps up, and smashes them on his forehead.
After that, pandemonium breaks out. Eggs, berries, flour, and soap suds are all weapons in their fight over who can mess up the other more. Ten minutes later, their faces are covered in red, blue, and yellow, with a white layer over it, courtesy of the flour now littering the floor. Their shirts are soaked through with soap suds, and Ben’s got big, red handprints down his back (the result of an impromptu make-out session after six minutes, that ended when Ben smeared banana pulp in Bea’s hair). The fight is quickly brought to an end when Ben slips on a bit of banana pulp, and pulls Bea down with him. Lying tangled in a heap of limbs and mashed food, they start laughing, and can’t seem to stop. Finally, Ben heaves himself up off the floor, and Bea following suit.
“I’ll take care of the kitchen” Ben says, giving Bea a kiss when she brushes a preserved strawberry from his hair. “You go take a shower. Change into some of my clothes when you’re done; we can wash yours now, so you can change back before you go home. Unfortunately, the shirt you usually use isn’t here anymore.” He sends her a pointed stare. “Someone must’ve stolen it.”
Bea grins back unapologetically. “I’m sure I can find another favourite! You sure you don’t want any help cleaning this up?”
“Nah, we’ll just mess it up even more. You can put our clothes in the washer when I go take a shower later, though.”
“Deal!” Bea walks out the kitchen, and catches a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror. Her laughter howls through the Hobbes’ residence, and she sticks her head back into the kitchen.
“Hey, even though it was completely unintentional – and with food, nonetheless – you still did a better job than Claudio did in Hero’s makeup vlog!”
Ben grins at her. “Another one of my hidden skills. Perhaps I should add ‘Makeup stylist’ to the ‘Personal chef’ title? I’ll do your makeup for graduation. We can wear matching food groups!” As Bea’s laugh follows her to the bathroom, Ben catches his reflection in the oven door. He’s got to agree with Bea, they did a lot better job with food than Claud did with proper makeup. At least Bea managed to smear the same colour berries on both eyelids!