Alice spread out the flour.

“Now, sprinkle a little more on the dough,” he instructed.

“Sprinkle a little more?” Alice dipped her fingers into the bag of flour.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?” She flung a puff of the white powder toward Hugo’s face.

He stopped the mixer in shock. She put an elbow on the table and rested her face in her palm. She gave an impish smile toward her handiwork.

A surprise smile overcame him. Hugo set the mixer down and pushed the bowl toward the middle of the table. He mirrored her pose. Elbow on the table. Flour covered face resting in the palm of his hand. A knowing expression. He licked the flour around his lips. She winked at him.

“Why, Ms. Primrose, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

“If I was flirting, you’d know it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If I was flirting, I might have dumped some flour on your head like this.” She snapped her fingers with her open hand.

A cloud of flour extruded from the bag toward Hugo. His hair and face were now covered in the white powder. Galahad bounced through the air in excitement. Max barked at Galahad’s movements.

Hugo stood up. “Well, Ms. Primrose. You picked the wrong person to have a food fight with.”

He peeled off a small clump of dough from within the bowl and flung it toward Alice. She snapped her fingers. The little lump of dough stopped in midair.

“No magick,” Hugo shouted.

“That’s not fair,” Alice responded.

“Exactly.”

He grabbed the bowl and chased Alice. She ran away, circling around the island. Alice snatched the bag of flour and proceeded to fling bits of powder toward Hugo. He gave chase.

He flung small bits of dough back as he became like a ghostly apparition. They circled the island, giddy with glee. Alice allowed Hugo to catch up to her. He wrapped his free arm around her.

“And now, Ms. Primrose, the champion of food fighting shall reclaim his crown.” He raised the bowl to dump the contents on her head.

“Gally, save me!” Alice playfully called as she pretended to struggle in Hugo’s grip.

Galahad flew across the table to her aid by poking at Hugo’s ribs.

“Easy, Gally. Easy,” Hugo said. Each poke was lessplayful than the last. Hugo set the bowl on the tabletop. A sharp pain emanated from his side from Galahad’s latest glancing blow. “That one hurt. Max, help!”

Max rushed to Hugo’s side, not to help him, but to save Alice. She jumped up and pushed against Hugo, giving a loud bark with each shove.

“Traitor!” Hugo called out. “You’re supposed to help me.”

Max continued to shove the pair. With the combination of Galahad’s pokes and Max’s shoving, the pair wobbled.

Hugo and Alice fell to the floor. He was able to twist them around so he hit the floor and Alice landed on top, straddling him. They laid on the floor face-to-face. Her purple hair engulfed his head. Their noses nearly touched. They lost themselves in each other’s eyes. Lost in a dark, secret language they only knew. They smiled and chuckled.

Alice moved in and kissed Hugo. Her soft lips pressed against his flour covered ones. Each kiss was longer and deeper than the last. He moved his hands to the back of her head. His fingers intertwined in her purple hair. His other hand wrapped around her waist, attempting to pull her closer than was possible.

He curled his fingers along her back. As they continued kissing, Hugo was set ablaze with passion. After a few minutes, he pulled his hand away from her hair, and they stopped kissing. They locked onto each other and breathed deeply together. Hugo yearned for more.

“So, I guess we’ll have to start over then, huh?” Hugo stated.