Dedicated to frosted_xx for coming up with Levi and Ruby's ship name 'Ruvi', it had me grinning like an idiot

It's a glorious Sunday, and it might be cloudy, it might be cold, but I've got a good few hours to spend how I want. Which feels like a miracle from the recent workload from school, the essays into globalisation, research tasks surrounding organic compounds and test papers on differentiation have been exhausting.

"So where to first?" Imogen asks as we both walk into Wickworth town.

"The Letterhead," I say, talking about our local, and best, stationary shop. "I need to get some glitter for Evie." Evie is my little sister and at five years old, her request for glitter isn't all too unusual when I told her I was going into town.

Imogen grimaces. She doesn't look too happy at our first destination.

It doesn't take long to get to the central part of Wickworth where all the shops are, to be honest I think this place is better suited being called a village than a town, it's so small. It's not so tiny that everyone recognises each other and we trade pints of milk for cheese, but Wickworth's got a cosy sort of feel. Especially when Christmas is near and the whole area is decorated with lights, more people are inclined to give you a smile and soon you find yourself spotting them by the town's famously beautiful library or some park.

The Letterhead is a stationary shop found behind the ginormous Christmas tree that's been put up in right in the middle of the hub of shops. I remember being small and first seeing Wickworth's Christmas tree.

I still feel the same awe when I take in the ornate baubles, glittering glass snowflakes and iridescent lights. Our tree's an enchanting, wintry mass of silvers, blues and purples.

I let out a breath of foggy air as I grin up at it, my face exactly matching an admiring toddler's sitting in his pram beside me. God, I love Christmas.

Snapping myself out the festive daze, I finally walk into the Letterhead. Imogen stays outside by the Christmas tree and she won't tell me why she won't go in. I personally think it's because of the time she was caught trying to read Fifty Shades of Grey without buying it.

I feel warm relief when I'm greeted with the central heating inside the shop. It's busy and it's probably because there's a whole bunch of stuff on sale on the shelves. It doesn't take me long to find the glitter, I pick the pink kind, the only colour in the universe worth looking at according to Evie, before heading to the till.

Once I see who's serving me, I let out a snort of surprise.

"Rubes!" Oliver looks back at me from the either side of the counter with his usual million-watt grin and, unusually, a pair of reindeer felt antlers on his head.

"Oliver?" I grin, shaking my head. "When the hell did you start working here?" I push the tube of glitter towards him, in shock at the fact that my wayward idiot of a best friend has managed to find a job before me.

"I started yesterday," he says, taking the glitter and scanning it. A mischievous look comes over him when he motions his head to someone beside me. I turn my head slightly round to see a pretty girl with silky dark hair. "Rebecca recommended me to the manager here."

"Rebecca?" I ask, looking unimpressed.

Oliver grins. "Well Natalie threatened to cut off my balls and her sister promised to sell them on eBay so I don't think there's a chance of any mistletoe action with them this Christmas," he says brightly, shrugging.

I grin, shaking my head, this hasn't been the first time when the safety of Oliver's balls has been compromised.

"Now give me eighty pence," Oliver orders, holding out his hand. I place the coins in his palm before he chucks me the glitter tube.

"Uh," I say, pretending to look insulted, "aren't you supposed to ask me if I'd like a bag for it?"

He gives me a look. "Shove it up your arse."

"I am not impressed with the customer service here!" I gasp loudly, laughing when he flips me the finger which gains some shocked murmurs from nearby customers and a prompt telling off from someone who I assume is his manager.

Leaving that as a normal goodbye between us, I walk out the door, slipping the glitter in my pocket rather than following Oliver's suggestion. Imogen is still standing by the tree, the tips of ears and her cheeks are bright pink from the cold as she attempts to shove her hat further over her hair.

"It's bloody freezing," she says through gritted teeth as we start walking again.

"Let's head to Maurice's," I say, nodding to a small building tucked between a laundrette and an art supplies shop. Imogen wastes no time in agreeing.

We both stalk quickly towards the coffee shop belonging to my Mum's friend Maurice Dormier, and even though its name is a little weird, Gris et Crème, it's all the town's favourite place for hot drinks and deserts, they're that good.

Imogen picks out a high table that's situated in front of the café's windows right at the back with tall stools.

"What I need right now is a good hot chocolate," Imogen says, rubbing her fingers together once she's pulled her gloves off. I nod, just the thought of a steaming hot drink is making me salivate.

"Throw in some of their brownies and I can die happy," I say after sitting at the stool. Imogen makes a noise of approval which sounds more like a groan of hunger before practically running to the small queue behind the till at the other side of the coffee shop.

I tap my foot against the chair leg as I wait for her to order, inhaling the scent of cinnamon, coffee and cakes. This place has really gone all-out for Christmas. A merry, festive tune is playing in the background, a tree is set up in the corner and the window ledges and pillars are swathed with tinsel.

It all suits the noise of chatter inside. I listen to the sound of a large group of people come in, from the sound of it they're all young judging by their raucous laughter and talk. This somehow perfectly complements a little old lady's chuckle who's at the table beside me as she listens to whatever the old man has to say sitting opposite her.

These types of places are my favourite. The busy, bustling kind. Put me somewhere lonely and quiet and I'll become miserable within two seconds. Put me somewhere where the atmosphere's buzzing, you'll have me buzzing too.

I watch Imogen place our order to a bored looking cashier behind the till. She points to a couple of gingerbread cookies sitting by the till which the he plates for her. She then starts to make her way back, dodging through a couple of prams, edging past a few men, almost making it back when suddenly a guy comes out of nowhere, completely knocking into her and sending the plate of gingerbread biscuits toppling to the ground.

The plate hits the floor with a crash, interrupting the café's chatter for a second before everyone resumes their talk once more. That doesn't fail to make Imogen's shout of surprise and anger inaudible though.

She looks at her broken gingerbread cookies, a frown deepening into a glare. She looks up at her attacker with a fierce scowl.

"You absolute-"

Her voice cuts off. I lean a little nearer to see why. Then I get it.

The guy who's just stumbled into Imogen is Max Murphy, a boy from school. Actually, 'boy' doesn't seem right for this guy. He's way too tall and stocky to be called that. From here, I watch all the fury vanish from Imogen's face as she stares up at Max, a faraway look taking over her expression instead.

"God, I'm sorry," Max says. His voice is deep; it's more rumbling than a fog horn. Imogen shakes her head dazedly, her cheeks now coloured a light pink.

"Uh... Um, it's fine," she mutters, looking down at her shoes which has bits of white ceramic plate and crumbs of cookie on them. A waiter bustles over with a dustpan and brush and beings to sweep the mess up while both Imogen and Max apologise.

I'm utterly shocked. On one hand I'm surprised Imogen isn't ripping Max's head off (she really loves those gingerbread cookies) and on the other it's clear she likes him, or at least it looks like she does. But that's the thing. When Imogen likes a boy she doesn't turn all flustered and shy, she bats the hell out of her eyelashes and her hair is flicked to death.

"It's ok," Imogen says again when Max apologises once more.

"No it's not," Max argues, shaking his head, "Let me get you some more."

I can just about make out Imogen letting out a breathy laugh and a flustered thank you. I then watch Max head off to the till to buy some more cookies. Imogen watches him for a moment before looking over at me with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

She hurries over, holding the sides of her face in her hands as if to hide her blush.

"Did you see that?" she breathed, sitting on her stool and fanning a hand by her face. I stare at her incredulously. Imogen never behaves like this!

"Yeah... crashing plates do tend to get my attention," I reply. Imogen shakes her head, giving a dramatic sigh.

"How the hell have I never realised how freaking hot Max Murphy is?" she exclaims quietly, biting her bottom lip. "He's in our Maths class isn't he?" I nod, getting a little more freaked out when she lets out an elated squeak.

"What the hell are you doing? You're behaving like a... like a love-sick twelve year old," I say, agape. Imogen snorts.

"You would be too if you saw that gorgeous, physical embodiment of sex right in front of you," she murmurs, smiling dazedly.

I groan, not pleased with her delightful metaphor. "What about Sam?" I ask, grinning when Imogen waves her hand dismissively.

"Pfft, forget about him!" She nods her head towards the direction of the till behind us. "All I can think about is a certain Mr Murphy."

I look at Max too, he's leaning against the till counter waiting for some ginger cookies which have now been sold out at the front. The first thing you notice about him is how massive he is, he's literally all muscle.

Imogen elbows my side. "Can you see how blue his eyes are?" she asks quietly. I obviously can't see from here but I do remember he does have very blue eyes. They're the bright kind that you always see paired with blonde hair, a kind of blonde Max certainly has. I have to admit, he is kind of, sort of, pretty cute.

Imogen suddenly slaps a hand against my chest, half-winding me. I splutter for breath and give her a look that asks, What the hell was that for?!

"He's coming over," she whispers before suddenly sitting up, looking all ruffled again. Max strides over, flashing a smile as he arrives before us. Setting down his plate on our table, he now gives a grin that's more apologetic at us.

"I am sorry, one of the idiots at my table pushed me and I kind of fell into you," he explains, resting his hand on our table and looking straight at Imogen. She buries a hand in her hair to push it away from her face before shaking her head.

"It's honestly alright." She beams.

I have to hold in laughter when I listen to how dreamy and slightly drugged she sounds, it's like she's taken some anaesthetic.

Imogen shoots me a glare when I accidently let out a snort.

"Anyway, those biscuits look good," Max says. This time I do laugh. The suggestive tone of his voice sounds like he's talking about anything other than gingerbread.

Max looks at me curiously as Imogen gives me another look that tells me she's definitely ready to kill me.

I quickly turn the laughing into pretend coughing. "Excuse me," I say, covering my mouth with my hand. "I'm... choking."

"So do you come here often?" Imogen cuts in, ignoring her choking friend and resting her chin in her hand. Max casually sits down in the third empty chair.

"We've been a few times," he says, leaning back. "Do you?" I don't fail to notice the flirtatious smile that brightens his expression and judging by Imogen's giggle I'm sure she doesn't either.

"Yeah." She nods, twirling her hair. Now, there's flirty Imogen. "Ruby and I love this place." Max's eyes land on me and I feel more than a little awkward, realising that I'm a bit of a third wheel.

I give him a little wave before immediately regretting the weird behaviour and deciding to get my phone out so I can pretend to text someone to hide my embarrassment. I never do well in these sort of situations.

"I might think about coming here more often then," Max says as he turns away from me. Thank god.

I duck my head down to avoid being noticed smirking. Imogen's breath hitches beside me. What I hear next, however, isn't Imogen's response. It's a voice that sounds awfully familiar.

"Max, plan on heading back any time soon?"

My head immediately snaps up and I freeze. Levi looks back at me, looking equally surprised. My heart squeezes a little when I notice he's wearing a bright red Father Christmas hat that's been lazily placed upon his messy locks of light brown hair. Some-effing-how, he bloody pulls it off.

Levi inclines his head to the slide a little, regarding me with an unnerving smile. "Ruby."

I look at his hat before looking back at him with raised eyebrows. "Nice hat."

His smile widens into a grin as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Gotta get into the Christmas spirit." His eyes gleam as he continues to watch me, as if he's hugely amused by seeing me here. My expression, on the hand, isn't quite so cheery. Nope, not when I'm on the verge of yelling loudly in frustration.

But I can't exactly do that with Max and Imogen here. Or you know, in a public place.

"So, are you gonna come back? Stacey's missing you," Levi says, pointing his thumb towards his table. Looking at the direction he's pointing in I realise that the group of people I heard earlier must have been Max and Levi's lot. There's at least eight of them and they're all crowded around one table, laughing and chattering. There are two girls, however, who are not.

One of them is Elle, her dark blonde hair is scraped back in a tight ponytail and she's pursing her lips as she watches us. Another I notice is Stacey who's staring rather sourly at Imogen. I guess she's also interested in Max but I haven't heard anything about them going out.

"I dunno mate, they've got gingerbread here," Max jokes, picking up a cookie. "Besides, I was getting sick of the girls talking about that stupid winter dance thing."

"They're nice," Imogen offers, pushing the plate toward Levi. It's all I can do not to take the plate back. Instead I settle for clenching my teeth. Levi pauses for a moment, as if deciding whether or not staying is a good idea.

Go on. Go back to your annoying friends, I will silently.

"Mind if I have a try?" Levi asks. This time I have to sigh loudly. Yes I bloody well do mind.

"Sure," Imogen says, smiling.

I struggle not to glare at her. Thanks Imogen, really! It's not like I hate this guy's guts or anything!

Levi drags a tall chair over from the empty table next to us. He drags it over next to me before sitting down and taking a bite of the gingerbread. He nods. "These are good."

Right now I don't want to accept the fact I'm sitting in a bloody coffee shop with Levi Parker after everything that's happened. He hasn't seemed to understand the simple idea that us not crossing paths is a good idea.

The more I'm around him the more I acknowledge, and hate, how much he knows about me.

Our order finally arrives, two steaming hot chocolates and a plate of brownies. The waiter places the assortment of edible treasure on our table and just the sight of food makes me feel a bit calmer.

"Fuck cookies, I'm having a brownie," Max says, taking one of my beloved chocolate pieces of paradise. My eyes widen in protest. I'm about to complain before I catch sight of Imogen's face. She's narrowing her eyes at me and just barely shaking her head.

Honestly, she's acting like I'm ruining her chances of getting it on with Max or something. Which I kind of am. I sigh. Not wanting to stand in the way of my friend's chance of not dying a lonely death, I shut up and let Max take the brownie.

I help myself to one (or three) too, deciding to let the chocolatey goodness be a comfort.

Staring moodily at the two new arrivals, I shove a whole brownie into my mouth and chew. Why can't Max be friends with someone else? Anyone else but Levi. I'd have preferred sitting next to anyone, even Mr Morris, rather than this arsehole who I've already seen far too many times since that evening.

"So where did you get the hat?" I grumble after gulping down some hot chocolate. Levi takes another of the gingerbread cookies.

"A market stall," he says, looking at me when answering. My stomach tightens as his eyes look over my face, the intensity in them makes it feel like he's only just looking at me for the first time. "Why, d'you like the look of it or something?"

"Yeah," I say sarcastically, "I want to look real sexy for Christmas."

Levi laughs, the sound of it making heat warm my cheeks. "Why thank you, Bug."

The name instantly infuriates me. I turn to him with a warning look in my eyes.

"Bug?" Imogen asks, confused.

Levi nods simply, smiling slightly. "I found out it was Ruby's middle name," he says casually. I scrunch my nose and inhale deeply.

"Just bloody ignore him," I say to Max and Imogen who look more than a little confused. They both stare at us silently. Meanwhile, I take a sip of my hot chocolate to distract myself.

"Are you getting mad, Ruby?" Levi asks, his voice far too taunting for my liking. A mischievous smile plays about his lips as his leg presses up against mine and I almost spit out my hot chocolate. What the bloody hell does he think he's doing?

The warmth of his leg against mine has my face rapidly blushing and suddenly the hot chocolate's far too hot a drink to be having.

"Fuck off," I hiss loudly at him. Imogen looks shocked at my sudden outburst. For a moment I feel embarrassed. I really have to calm down.

"I mean no. Just... Whatever," I falter, throwing a small glare at the boy beside me.

Levi leans forward on his elbows towards me. My lungs suddenly find difficulty actually being lungs and I find myself turning breathless. "Forget your hair, your whole face is turning all red. You really are like a ladybug," he says. Oh good god.

He dares to just come over here and piss me off beyond belief and get off on my anger? Well, I'm not having it!

"And you really are an obnoxious twat!" I say furiously.

Levi flicks up an eyebrow. "Am I?"

"Yes!" I declare, "You're just, just going to stroll over here and steal all our gingerbread cookies and expect me to take it?"

"God." Levi pretends to appalled. "Didn't realise I was being such an arsehole."

I give a mocking laugh, shaking my head. "You're being more than-"

"Are you guys... alright?" Max asks, this time staring at us if like we're insane. I'm not going to bother sugar-coating things this time.

"No!" I cry just as Levi calmly says, "Yeah." He chuckles at my response, the noise loud and disarmingly warm.

"Why're you getting so het up?" he asks, leaning back in his chair.

"I am not getting het up!" I say, sounding totally het up.

He nods, making a sound of agreement. "And the sky isn't blue, Bug."