the kiss list, adrian pucey
𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐

chapter nineteen
number 21: OLIVER WOOD

✧ ━━━ · ✦ · ━━━ ✧

SATURDAYS WERE NOT BIANCA'S favourite day of the week. She didn't have a lot to do with herself and she felt like she was the only one. Everyone around her seemed to be so active all the time and busy with their lives. Maybe it was because she always did her homework as soon as she got it, meaning there was nothing left for her to do at the weekends, and maybe it was because she simply didn't play Quidditch, which is what everyone apparently spoke about like it was always the topic of conversation. And obviously, the team were practicing at every chance they got, due to Oliver's severe drive and need to win the Inter-house cup, seen as he only had two chances left, and he hadn't won it once, which was understandable to Bianca, even though she had never played; she admired his determination.

Bianca was starting to think she needed to come up with something to take some time off of her hands. The library only had so many books and she had almost finished the three she was currently reading. Richard Clewin Griffith and John Herbert White's "Modern Chess Openings" she saw herself re-reading several times in the near future, and some books to her were too good to only read once, but as much as she loved to read, there had to be something she enjoyed as well as reading and playing chess.

Bianca didn't know about the other house common rooms, but she believed there was nowhere better in the castle than the Gryffindor one, except maybe the library and the astronomy tower. It was so hearty, it brought her so much joy and made her insides melt. It made her think every time she returned to the tower like she had done so many times, if someone were to take a picture at any moment, it would be one that people would look back on and show their kids, along with words like: "those were the good old days."

She was reaching the end of the Chess tactics book, finishing the section about the 'Larsen's opening' under the chapter for "Flank openings" when Oliver Wood brushed past her.

"Oh hey Bianca!" he smiled, his Scottish accent so insanely distinguishable she didn't have to see the person to know who she was talking to. "What you reading?"

She drew her eyes away from her book, finishing the paragraph before she did, to meet his gaze, returning a grin. She lifted the cover so he could read the title.

"Chess?" he inquired, intrigued.

She nodded her head, "Uh-huh."

"I assume you're just as good at chess as you are at Blackjack," he smirked.

"Well, that game is all about luck, Oliver. There are skills required for chess."

"But I bet you can play a good hand at poker," he narrowed his eyes.

"I guess you could say that." she shrugged, somewhat humbly.

"Maybe you could teach me sometime? It's one game the twins always want to play and I never can beat them and they're not even that good," he chuckled.

"If I teach you Poker, maybe you could help me out with Quidditch?" she smirked. It was the perfect time to ask like it was given to her on a silver platter. Seen as she had lied to Adrian, why not make it no longer a lie?

Bianca had never been that interested in Quidditch, but it sure was something that would feel amazing to be good at. She just never was. And Oliver Wood was the person to change that.

It may sound rude, but the boy has no life outside of Quidditch. He eats, sleeps, and breathes the sport. He had read 'Quidditch through the ages' countless times and spent probably thousands of hours on the pitch. Bianca honestly thought they were quite similar. No, she wasn't completely in love with some game like he was, but she kept her head down and focussed on what was important. Oliver could easily get a girlfriend if he wanted one. But he didn't. He didn't have time for one. Although she did think he took the obsession too far when he didn't spend one day during his six weeks off not playing it.

"Didn't think you were interested, but you got it," he said smiling, and she couldn't help but find his voice absolutely adorable.

As if on queue, a voice came, that she quickly noticed to be Percy.

"Bianca, there is someone at the portrait asking for you," he said, as he walked up to the chair, on which she was sat, "Don't let him in, that would be against school policy." he turned on his heels, his posture like two legs in quicksand ─ they couldn't be straighter ─ and walked away in the direction he came from, through the portrait and out of sight.

Bianca sighed, wondering who would need her of all people, clamping the book shut on her leather bookmark. She excused herself from Oliver, who simply smiled and bid her adieu, and she headed for the entrance.

She swung open the golden ornate framed portrait, a gust of colder air hitting her in the face, to be met with a smiling face that she had seen so many times, rocking back and forth on his toes, like he had been enthusiastically waiting for her to appear at the door.

nine minutes prior
the slytherin common room
3:17 pm

Adrian had never been to the Gryffindor tower, for obvious reasons: Slytherins were far from welcome.

Unlike Bianca, Saturdays were Adrian's favourite day of the week. He didn't have to attend lessons for five hours a day, with the addition of Astronomy at an annoying time of night. No homework to do (he left that for Sundays) and he didn't have to wake up in the morning.

But, like Bianca, he didn't really have much to do. Quidditch practice only took a small chunk out of his day, and he pushed the burden of having to do even more school work till the next, as he had gotten pretty good at procrastination. Parties didn't happen every weekend, nor did something like the Bonfire Bash that had happened almost a fortnight ago. He could only play poker with his mates in the Slytherin common room oh-so-many times until it got boring or he had lost too much to go on.

As his Saturday drew on, he felt like he was wasting it, and soon it would be Sunday: a day guaranteed to be dull.

Marcus Flint had called a practice for one o'clock, purely for his chasers, which included Adrian, and he, Marcus, and Graham had spent ninety minutes racing around a pitch, throwing Quaffles here and there. He was exhausted, to say the least.

Come three o'clock, he had nothing to do. He was still planning on pushing his homework to the next day, Terrence had become too good at pretty much every card game they all knew how to play and Adrian didn't want to play any more games and then have to bet something knowing he didn't exactly stand a chance, and the reading thing was still too new to him for him to read more than one chapter a day.

He didn't really have anything to do.

Sitting in the Slytherin common room, his hair still dripping from his shower, staring into space seemed to be all he could think of. He watched as the giant Squids frolicked about in the murky water behind the glass, as the iron clock ticked away, life going on around him. He spotted two lower year Slytherins sat at a table, chessboard before them, frantically moving pieces and hitting a clock beside them.

That was something to do.

Adrian had never been to the Gryffindor tower, and in his time of boredom, why not now?

The halls were almost empty. Adrian assumed it was because everyone else was busy because they actually could find things to do with their time. Adrian was beginning to think he needed a new pastime, something to take his mind off of the pressure of Quidditch, the stress of school and his N.E.W.Ts, that weren't for another few months, but he knew that was what all of the learning and studying was preparing him for, so it was still something to think about.

The bet he had going on with Gryffindor geek, Bianca Larsson, was bad enough to think about, but when it was knawing at his thoughts, it was sort of hard to forget he was losing. It wasn't necessarily a bet in which one person is in the lead, and only has a 'winner' in three and a bit months when it all ends, but if someone were to be ahead of the other, it wouldn't be Adrian.

He didn't know what his plan was for when he made it to the portrait of the fat lady. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't exactly someone that's presence would be gladly accepted and he would be invited in with a joyous embrace by whoever ended up opening the door, and he didn't expect that.

He wanted his mind taken off of the bet, and although the bet was directly between him and her, learning how to play chess with Bianca, was something Adrian believed to do exactly that.

It made no sense to him either, but he understood his logic.

It ended up to be Percy Weasley ─ head boy, annoyingly dismissive and would have your head if you put even a toe out of line ─ that opened the portrait after Adrian waited for about four minutes until someone came out like he hoped someone would because he didn't know how to get someone that was inside's attention.

The redhead had been leaving to go and see Professor McGonagall most likely something about 'more things he could do as Headboy', when he was met with Adrian Pucey, a tall brunette, that was not a Gryffindor.

One of Percy's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the Slytherin, who did the complete opposite and smiled ardently back at him, no matter who it was because someone had finally opened the door.

"Can I help you Pucey?" Percy said slightly muddled.

"Oh yeah, could you go and get Bianca? I need to talk to her about something." Adrian replied, still grinning. When Percy didn't reply immediately, Adrian tried again, "Bianca Larsson?"

"I know who she is, I just thought you hated each other?" Percy questioned.

"It's a complicated relationship," Adrian replied nodding.

"Right, okay. I'll go get her then?" Percy said, still a little stumped.

Before he could leave, Adrian spoke again, "Oh and Percy?" the ginger turned back just as he was leaving.

"Yes?"

"Would it be a problem if Bianca and I patrolled together for Prefect duty this evening?" Adrian said, trying to be as polite as possible.

"I'm not responsible for the Slytherin prefects," Percy replied.

"But you are for the Gryffindor ones, and Bianca is one," Adrian said, his smile a little smaller than before.

"We'll sort that later," Percy replied and he disappeared once more, Adrian's view now just of the Fat Lady, of whom he was hoping wouldn't ask if she could sing for him again like she had done several times in the four minutes he was waiting.

current time
portrait of the fat lady, gryffindor tower
3:26 pm

Bianca didn't know who she was expecting to see at the other end of the portrait hole, but it wasn't Adrian Pucey.

"Adrian?" she said, puzzled, on noticing the dark brown and now shaggy hair. He looked up and met her eyes, his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Can I help you with something?"

"I just came to see when we could play chess together?" he asked, still casually, but also slightly uncertain of how she would react.

"You were really serious about that?"

He nodded his head nonchalantly, "Yeah, I need a new pastime and more of the serotonin I get from beating you." he added with a smirk.

Bianca herself thought she needed something else to do seen as she always found herself trying to think of something to do with her time because she was bored, she just didn't think this would be it.

Bianca chuckled dryly, "I told you that wouldn't happen." she folded her arms, focussing on the way he was stood. It was so casual and natural. He was comfortable when talking to her, not angered or disinterested, as he stood, hair still flopped over his face from his shower, his jeans hanging loosely around his waist. "But I'm free tomorrow, say the afternoon, if you're that desperate," she added with a sigh.

"How's two?" he asked.

"Two's fine." she shrugged.

"Great. I'll meet you in the library then, and that way, you can be so kind as to help me with the Charms homework," he said, smiling sarcastically.

"That I will not." she returned the same sneer, "And don't be late."

"Wouldn't think of it," he turned on his heels, but stopped and turned back, "Oh and later? We are paired for Prefect duty," he said with a smirk, and this time walking away.

But before she could protest, he skipped away, down the stairs, lost to view.

➼

TO BIANCA'S DISAPPOINTMENT, THE SNOW WAS beginning to clear. Little had fallen in the last few days but seen as it was only mid-November, Bianca had high hopes and no doubt that Scotland would see some more in time for Christmas.

It was just sleet, and the clouds were now grey. Rain was most definitely expected soon.

Her Saturday had yet to become interesting, and she was beginning to get bored. She had long finished her book and was close to finishing the other two she was also reading, but that would leave her even more jobless.

She had found herself strolling back to the Gryffindor common room, one lonesome cracker in her hand, after leaving the kitchens, in hopes something would inspire her either on the way there or on the way back.

She had yet to succeed.

But almost just before her patience had completely run out, almost as if it were meant to be, she noticed a little whirring dot, whizzing about against the dusty mist that was the sky and clouds, just as she ambled by.

It was no doubt who she believed it to be.

Intrigued as to where it could go, she followed the route to the practice pitch, and as she did, the same sailing bullet that was a student on a broom, flew down to meet her when he watched her walk in.

"Hey Bianca, how you doing?" he smiled, touching down.

"I'm alright, you?" she met him halfway.

"As good as I can be."

"Are you really practicing?" Bianca chuckled dryly.

"Why not?"

"In this weather?" she questioned, inclining her head.

"Better than nothing," he grinned back.

"On your own?"

He shrugged, "Couldn't convince anyone to come out."

"I don't blame them," she chortled, "Well, I'm here now. In need of any company by any chance Oliver?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

The broom shed was west of the practice pitch and about a minute walk, through the melting snow.

Bianca and Oliver hadn't exactly scheduled a day for him to help her with her spontaneous desire to play Quidditch better than she could, and yet the opportunity couldn't get better than this one, apart from maybe the weather: Oliver was one of the best players on the team, and probably needed the littlest practice seen as he had done the most so no time would be wasted on helping out a friend; none of the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were prepared to go out in such low climates to practice; and the pitch was available ─ no one from any of the other teams seemed to have the same desperate drive Oliver did that meant they were willing to play on a Saturday afternoon.

The two trudged the short distance, muttering broken small talk and short laughs.

Oliver stepped aside to let Bianca go in first, like the gentleman he is, and followed her in afterward.

The shed was dusty as anything. Cobwebs and dirt really 'finished the room'. The whole thing was in need of a good clean, Bianca had thought upon first look.

"Which one do I use?" she laughed, scanning the many spare brooms laid out.

He followed with a chuckle, "For beginners-"

"Hey! I am not a 'beginner'," she defended. "I can fly, just not that . . ." she trailed off at the sight of his look that read, 'really?'. "Okay so maybe I am a beginner," she mumbled.

"I'd use that one, if I were you," he pointed, still grinning, to a rusty, second-hand broom, with sharp straw ends that could quite possibly take someone's eye out.

Bianca didn't want to embarrass herself in front of Gryffindor Quidditch captain Oliver Wood, but at this rate, it seemed like she most definitely would.

"Let's just master the basics before you start throwing Quaffles eh?" he smirked, as she eyed the box with the four famous balls.

"The basics got it." she nodded.

Oliver didn't have a plan of action. He didn't know what stage she was at with flying, so to start with that was probably best.

"Mount your broom then," he laughed after she didn't move.

"Ohh, right."

Bianca clambered onto her broom, Oliver by her side, ready to save her as if it were a life-threatening task.

"Now touch off and touch back down again," he instructed.

She leaned forward, hesitantly, trying to make sure her balance was in check before she actually started flying. With a little push from her feet, the broom began rising, and she hovered in the air for just a moment, before touching back down.

"See, not so hard was it?" he teased.

"That was just physics," she scowled, "I'm not that incapable." she faked a smile and he laughed.

"I see. Well, if you're that good, I guess you don't need me. Go ahead, fly away." he taunted, gesturing to the empty pitch before them, before turning away.

"I didn't mean it like that! Hey, Oliver wait!" she said, hopping on one leg to catch up with him, forgetting the broom was underneath her, between her legs, and she felt herself beginning to tilt over.

Oliver had turned back around, never planning on actually leaving her, to catch her just in time, before she could hit the ground.

"Very capable I see," he mocked, with a grin of pride.

"Har, har," she said, their eyes still locked in a trance. He had very beautiful eyes, she noticed.

He helped her to her feet, making sure the broom was out of the way and that she was standing sturdy on two legs.

"Would you like me to continue then, Miss Larsson?"

She rolled her eyes, and smiled sarcastically, "Oh go on then."

The clouds had gotten greyer, and yet the two of them were very happy to stay out.

Bianca had definitely made some improvement, and Oliver no longer needed to 'babysit' and stand directly beside her when she flew. She had only managed two or three meters off of the ground, but he was proud in his own way that he was the one to coach her to do so.

Bianca had forgotten about the cold. Oliver was already warm from his practice before, and she had quickly realized how tiring flying and Quidditch can be. She had to give it to Adrian; it was sort of hard work.

She was circling the pitch, Oliver straying just behind her, to see her form when the sky was beginning to rumble like it was about to cry.

"I think it might rain," the keeper yelled, catching up to her, so he was now flying alongside her.

She was cautious as to how she was meant to get down from this high ─ but it wasn't high at all, just the highest she had gone ─ and her flying had become more tentative.

"Okay, should we call it a day?" she yelled back, not taking her eyes off of her path.

Oliver had turned back to the entrance of the pitch at her words, and she carefully steered in the same direction. She was still wondering how he did it all so effortlessly.

Bianca delicately lowered the broom and dismounted whilst it was still moving, earning a laugh from the boy, "Well that's one way to do it."

She gave him a jokey look saying 'shut it' without actually saying it and picked up the fallen broom.

Oliver watched as she stood straight again and the tension arose when she returned the same look.

The rain had now begun to fall, lightly at first, but enough to make his hair damp. She edged forward a bit and gently swept a bit of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

She watched as his cheeks flushed pinkish, and the water droplets that were now beginning to cover his entire face.

'Why not now?' was the question constantly running through her mind, but the guilt was twisting her insides. 'Fuck it.'

Bianca leaned over, reaching up to him on the tips of her toes, to meet her face with his, that was now one with his hair, connecting their lips.

Oliver was taken aback at first but didn't hesitate to kiss back, only to pull away after about six seconds.

"What was that?" he half chuckled, his arms wrapped around her, resting on her lower back.

She looked down, trying to hide her smile, avoiding any eye contact and any chance he had of seeing her blush, which she was on the verge of doing.

"Couldn't tell you." she shrugged, "A thank you maybe?" she suggested with a tentative smile, trying her hardest to push aside the guilty feelings boiling up inside of her. The weather wasn't helping. The rain now falling louder and harder than before. Still, in a weak sort of embrace, she looked up. The snow would never settle now, but it was cold enough to freeze the rain. The sky was a scary grey, and the clouds were bulky.

"Should we go inside-"

"I like Katie-"

They both spoke at the same exact time, blurting out, each breaking the no-talk that had fallen between them.

Bianca didn't quite know what to say.

Oliver was cute, hardworking, and honestly the perfect boyfriend material, but she didn't have feelings for him. If anything, this worked out better than she could have ever imagined it could. He really was a keeper. Just not for her.

"Katie? Oliver that's great!" she grinned, after a moment's pause, genuinely happy for him, and glad she didn't have to lead him on, even though it felt like she already had.

The boy let out a sigh, one that looked like he had been keeping in, "Really? I just didn't think she could like me like that," he said gloomily, the two of them now apart.

She brushed his arm, "Oliver, if it makes you feel any better, I think you're a great guy. And, if you'd like, I could put in a good word?" she smirked.

"You'd do that?" he questioned, tilting his head.

"Of course. We are friends. Right?" she asked. His smile grew and he nodded enthusiastically. The sky above them may not be, but it felt good for both of them to have cleared the air. "Should we go inside now?" she offered a light laugh.

"That's probably best." he nodded.

The pair ran back to the castle, through the icy ground that was now a mixture of mud and the odd floe, and through the drenching rain. Both of them were trying desperately not to fall over, and occasionally grabbing onto the other for support, but also realizing that wasn't a good idea because they could bring the other down with them, yet laughing the entire way back. Oliver of course didn't fail to remind Bianca that she owed him a game of poker.

➼

BEING A PREFECT SURE MADE BIANCA proud, but some of her duties, specifically patrolling, were just not worth the title.

The main role the job entitled was walking around at a stupid hour, when she'd much rather just be in bed, looking for any students that were out past curfew. It was a rare occurrence that they actually did find someone, because, like Bianca should be, they were all fast asleep, after a very tiresome day.

She didn't have to do to it every night, of course, as there were four other prefects in year five and seven in Gryffindor, that she alternated with, but this week, she and Percy were stuck with the burden of patrolling on a Saturday, which, if any day, this was the one that people would be out the most. On Fridays there could also be one or two students, sneaking out to other house common rooms to see their friends, or the kitchens to get a 'midnight snack' because no one had to get up in the morning. Every other night of the week ─ the school nights ─ the halls were abandoned.

Penelope Clearwater ─ the head girl ─ found no reason to not let Adrian pair with Bianca for their patrol tonight and Percy had given in ("As long as you do what you're supposed to . . .") like they would get up to anything he had in mind.

Adrian didn't know what he had wanted to have happened between him and Bianca when he asked Percy if they could go together, but so far, it was going pretty well. But it wasn't like a date ─ of course not ─ it was just Prefect duty. That's what he kept telling himself.

They had been walking, not in silence, but in conversation about tomorrow, some basics he needed to know about chess before they started, how Tamsin Applebee was still very much in love with Adrian and they even shared some gossip.

Bianca had mentioned Oliver ─ very smugly at that ─ and Adrian couldn't give her more than a sigh and a "I'll give it to you, you're better than I thought," when inside he was a little more than just a bit irked.

If anyone were to see them, that didn't know them personally, hell, people would say they were in love.

That's what it looked like at least.

The two had wandered along many corridors, catching one lower year Hufflepuff, sneaking to the Slytherin dungeons and two Ravenclaw seventh years who were making out beside the Kitchens after snacking with the house-elves. They were very pissed that two Prefects that were younger than them were the ones to stop them and that they actually had authority over them.

They reached the edge of yet another hallway, a large opening that acted as a window at the end. Bianca found herself, caught in a daydream, staring out at the sky, just wanting to get a glimpse at what the stars looked like this late.

Adrian, who for a few steps continued walking, thinking she was following, noticed this and stopped beside her, staring up too, "Why don't we go up to the roof?" he suggested, as he watched how she admired the stars with such adoration, it was hard to watch her not do what she desperately wanted to.

"What?" she said, a little muddled "No, we can't just abandon our duty, Adrian!" she contended.

"Oh come on," he sighed, "When was the last time you actually saw someone out of bed apart from those three? We're not even near any places exciting that people would sneak out to go to this late."

It was Bianca who now sighed. Both of them knew she wanted to, but they both also knew she didn't want to break the rules. They were out so late because they were stopping people from doing exactly what they were about to.

"It'll be freezing."

"We won't stay out long then."

Bianca looked around anxiously as if waiting for someone to catch them, put them back in check and stop her from doing what she thought she was about to. She exhaled, "Okay fine, let's go," she said like she was fed up, despite it being her that wanted to watch the stars; Adrian was just the one that suggested it.

"Hey, it was you that was staring and wanted to go up there, not me!" he surrendered his hands at her tone.

"Great, you can stay down here and watch guard then," she grinned, tilting her head.

"Uh-no, I'm-" he stammered, "I'm going too."

Bianca brushed past him and Adrian stood and watched as she approached the spiral stairs, stepping up the first few, "You coming then?" she turned to face Adrian, who was stock still.

He nodded his head and the pair ascended the stairs to a flat, open roof, not too high from the ground, a waft of fresh, night air blowing her hair out of her face.

The snow hadn't been as heavy as of late, and sleet was covering the entirety of the roof's floor, but it was icier after the rain from earlier. It was as cold as it had been, and the wind was already cutting her skin.

She walked to the edge, checking how high they were, before swiping off some snow and lowering herself, letting her legs dangle off of the edge, gathering her arms and resting them on her lap. Adrian joined her, leaning his body weight on his hands behind him, making sure they weren't on the snow.

The sun had long gone, and the sky was just dark, lit up with hundreds of stars, like a perfect piece of artwork.

The two watched the stars move about, along, up, and down; the light hums of nature around them, bringing peace with a natural lullaby. For a moment, everything seemed simple. Not complicated at all. Just comforting and still. No bet, no tension between them, not even the bitter temperature affected either of them for just a moment.

Straight ahead was Hagrid's hut, looking as friendly as ever. Smoke was rising from the cobblestone chimney and the pumpkins were flourishing in the shiny light of the moon and stars. Bianca wondered whether he was still awake, and if he was, what would he be doing? The Forbidden forest, as frightening as it was, looked almost harmonious. The motionless of the trees created a sense of innocence and peace.

Bianca crossed her knees to her chest, keeping the serenity of the picturesque scene locked in her head.

Adrian had turned his attention away from the blackness to Bianca, who was in her own world, blown away by the sheer beauty of this time of night. The wind was softly running through her hair, tickling the ends, and cooling her face. Her mouth was resting in a half-smile, yet he could still see how much she was enjoying herself; it was the look of someone that was truly happy.

"Pretty isn't it?" she broke the silence, her eyes still fixed on one particular star, directly in front of her.

Adrian was thrown back into a reality where he couldn't just stare in awe at her all night, and shook his head out of his train of thought and rotated it to the stars once more.

"Beautiful," he smiled. He wasn't referring to the stars.

Bianca had now turned to look at him, only briefly, and then looking away, before he could do the same. She could smell the air carrying his scent; it reminded her of when she and her mother used to bake when she was about five. Her dad's favourite was blueberry muffins and, that was always her favourite to make. She smiled at the memory.

Now beginning to feel the snow's bitterness, she hunched her shoulders to her ears.

"A-are you cold?" Adrian noticed how tense she had become from the temperature.

She looked at him, tilting her head, "Do not even think about giving me your jacket or some rom-com shit," she chuckled dryly.

"Right, no. Because that would be weird," he tutted, "Not like I was trying to be nice," he muttered, quiet enough for her not to hear.

Bianca thought stars were too beautiful for this world. She was so fascinated by the idea that to them, they were tiny dots floating above them, and yet they were so big. They were like sprinkles, sugary and sweet, that someone had scattered on a perfect big birthday cake, that was coated in black icing.

The stars canvased over them, surrounding the pair, like a planetarium, only it wasn't one, it was real. She felt isolated from the rest of the world, but in the best way possible, even with someone sat right beside her. Like the world was spinning, orbiting the sun, and going about life around them, as they sat still.

For just a few moments, it felt like it was just the two of them. It made Bianca think: what would life be like if it were just her and Adrian left? If they were the only two people to be alive; the world literally their oyster, a blank slate for them to do whatever they wanted to.

The only problem was: Bianca didn't think she would hate it that much.