[outfit]
Alice had woken up that morning to the sound of a baby crying next door. She lived in a tenement home with a bunch of families, and often felt herself the victim of such noise violations. There was no hope for her in terms of improving this dilemma, and she had taken to accepting it as fate. There was no way to better one's chances once one was in the slums. That was a thought for fairy tales. The grandeur of "Prince Charming" was far over, replaced by the harsh reality of poverty and complacency. She understood that a lack of hope didn't really help her chances at survival much, but in such circumstances it was hard to hope.
Timothy Benton, her neighbor, had asked her to visit him. She wasn't used to such requests, so admittedly she was excited. She had donned a nice, blue dress that was far less revealing than her work attire. She did not have the funds for many hair pins, but she tied up her hair in a loose bun with a ribbon. Then, she had made some pastries. It was a splurge in her accounts, of course. But, it was cheaper to make them than it was to buy them, and she was a very good cook. Being quite versed in memorizing recipes, she had no trouble remembering this one. She kept them warm in her little oven while she pulled on her brown coat. She then wrapped up the rolls in paper, put them in her bag, and headed next door.
Timothy Benton wasn't much different from your average male in that he was after one thing first and foremost, it seemed. But, the different was you could tell he had heart and compassion, even if he could be a right cad at times. Though she would never admit it, Alice Cooper enjoyed his company.
The picnic on his front porch was a social visit, and she thought it pleasant and very neighborly of him to invite her over to spend the afternoon with him. It was nippy out, but not so cold, and the sun shone overhead in an agreeable way. Her blue eyes shone with the daylight. Alice loved leaving her building. It was much nicer out in the open. Her chamber was dark and dismal to say the least.
Reaching Timothy's house had brought a surprise in the form of his porch steps, which seemed almost to jut out and grab her. In other words, she tripped. She was rather bad at staying on her own two feet lately, it seemed. Alice's skirts rustled beneath her, and she fell face forward onto two sturdy arms, exclaiming "Oh!" on her way down. Her bag flew out of her arms, landing a few inches in front of her. The tin of pastries, thank goodness they were wrapped, tumbled towards the door, along with an envelope labeled 'Alice's Negatives,' a pressed white pair of gloves, and her coin-purse. She huffed in frustration. What an entrance she made.
Timothy had accidentally slept in. He'd stayed up late the night before due to the company of a certain liquor named firewhiskey and a couple of lads who he liked to gamble with. He'd been on a winning streak, but by the end of the night he'd lost it all. It always happened that way. Timothy never knew to stop when he was ahead, but he didn't mind. At least he wasn't worse off than before. He still couldn't pay his rent that month, but his landlord was fond enough of him to let it slide so long as he caught up the next month. The teen hadn't a clue where he would find two months rent, but he wasn't worried about it. Something would come up and he'd find a way to do it.
Snoring on his bed in his one-room apartment, Timothy completely forgot about the picnic Alice had promised him. It wasn't until he heard a loud clammer of tin hitting his door did he startle awake. Thinking it was someone trying to break in, he flew out of bed, his dirty blonde hair wild and lacking a shirt, he scooped up his wand, flung the door open with his wand pointed threateningly at the perpetrator and roared, "I'M NOT AFRAID OF YA!"
No one was there. It was then that he looked down to see Alice upon the ground, the contents of her bag all over his porch. "Oh, it's you," He said sheepishly and pocketed his wand. He moved forward to pick up her things for her, ignoring the biting cold against his bare skin, "Sorry 'bout that." He reached forward to pick up the envelope for her. The words scrawled on the front of it confused him for a moment, since 'negatives' was a rather long word for him. Once he had sounded it out in his head, he said aloud, "Alice's Negatives? Negatives of what?"
Naughty pictures were the farthest thing from his mind. Alice was sweet and innocent. He figured it was a list of negative things or something, maybe a shopping list, or things she didn't like. Who knew?
She was struck by the loudness of his voice, and the creak of the door opening, and it took her aback. She jumped up onto her feet quickly, eyes wide and cheeks flush with rosiness. She breathed inwardly, but found herself unwilling to exhale. She had not seen Timothy Benton scream like that, and even after working at the Hog's Head for two years she still felt uneasy at such anger. Alice did not resort to yelling ever, and perhaps that was partly her gentle nature, or her shyness, but even when she was angriest she did not scream. Alice's family had been muggle, and she used to scream like a wolf every time she felt magic welling up inside her. They thought her insane, but that could not afford to have her committed. Hogwarts had been her salvation, and since the day she stepped into the Great Hall, she had not screamed. What had it accomplished?
"Indeed," Alice breathed quietly. Timothy Benton, just like any man, had anger. She understood by now that it was something all men had, and it was something that she, as a female, was supposed to ignore. Alice had learned her duties as a woman from her time serving in bars, and so perhaps she was even more passive than the average girl. It seemed that this was the way that men wanted women to be, and Alice, who had always been poor, was obsessed with learning the rules of propriety even though she would never be a member of any upright social function.
Her eyes widened when she saw the paper envelope in Timothy's hand, and she stepped closer to him, seriously. "Nothing, nothing!" she exclaimed, her voice high and stronger than normal. She felt invaded upon, now that the contents of her bag were strewn across Timothy Benton's porch, but this was by far the worst thing that he could see. She hoped nobody would see this envelope. But there it was in Timothy Benton's hands, ready to be opened and for any semblance of dignity she had to be ruined. Alice worked very hard to keep her dignity in tact despite the soddy life she had been given. "I need that back, Mister Benton," she said with a sense of urgency.
Her reaction to his possession of the envelope surprised him. Clearly, it was something that she did not want him to have - or see, if he could go so far as to guess. She seemed quite desperate to have it back, and had he been a true cad, he would have bribed her for it. A kiss perhaps, but he had never seen Alice quite so stricken and instead decided to hand it straight back to her. As he passed it back, he grinned, "Seems you have a secret or two, Alice. S'alright though, we've all got 'em. Some more than most. Don't worry, I won't tell no one." It wasn't as if he had anything to tell, other than the fact that Alice had secrets. What they were exactly, he had no idea. Something about negatives, presumably.
He bent to pick up the other things and returned them to her arms. "I'll be out in just a mo'," Timothy said as he turned and went back into his house. He pulled the only shirt he owned over his head and slipped his brown patched-up coat on over the top. He shoved his usual cap upon his head - the one he wore daily - and then returned back out to the chilly air. "That's better. Ya ready for our picnic now? If it's too cold out here we can eat inside. I don't got a table or anythin' but I'm sure we could figure somethin' out," He suggested. While he doubted Alice would be comfortable sitting upon his bed as a makeshift couch, it was all he had. At least she understood what it was to have nothing.
Timothy stopped for a moment, and then added brightly, "Ya know what? I think I may have some leftover firewhiskey from last night - do ya want some? It'll warm ya right up if ya stay out here. It's like havin' a fire in your belly, but you prolly already know that." She did work at the Hog's Head, after all.
She frowned. It was quite clear of course that Alice of all people would not kiss anyone for anything. She was far too quick minded for that sort of allurement. Timothy Benton was a nice person, but she was not going to waste her good virtue on a man who did not intend to do anything short of marry her. Mister Benton was not that man. It didn't even cross her mind that he might consider that bribe worth it. She took the envelope back from him, her pale white hands clutching the paper like her life depended on it. She looked up at him through lashes. She didn't even know what to say to his remark, and thought it better not to say anything. She didn't like someone knowing she had even the littlest of secrets. It frightened her.
She watched him go inside, and she set the tin of pastries gingerly off to the side. Closing her eyes, she breathed in heavily to calm her spirits before she gathered her belongings back into her bag and laid that off the the side. She slid the envelope into the bodice of her dress, which was luckily better at masking her body than most of the dresses she owned. He returned wearing his familiar attire, and Alice smiled gently, feeling embarrassed by their interaction moments earlier. "I think this is lovely," Alice said gently. Alice herself had but a mattress and a stove, along with a small cabinet that didn't close properly. It was a meager living, but people had to make due with what they had.
Alice breathed inwardly. She didn't like alcohol, but the stress of having her secret exposed got the better of her, and she nodded. "Perhaps a touch," she conceded. Despite working at a pub, Alice never drank. She found it unladylike, and she worked ever so hard to be a lady.
With the envelope mostly forgotten, Timothy grinned and went inside to fetch the half bottle of firewhiskey from under his bed. His most precious things were hidden under there... only now it was empty, since he held it in his hand. The bottle had cost him a pretty penny - the last half of his paycheck since the first had been claimed by the gambling gods. He emerged with the bottle in his hand, "I don't have any cups. I hope ya don't mind if we share. I'm not sick or nothin'."
He popped the lid off and took a swig. It burned down his throat as he swallowed and all the way down his esophagus to his belly. It warmed him right up and he could have taken off his coat and shirt again and still felt just as comfortable as he had been with them on. A slight layer of sweat formed on his forehead as he passed the bottle to Alice.
"S'pose we oughta sit - it's what ya do on a picnic after all," He suggested and sat himself next where she stood, with his legs dangling out over the edge of the second-story porch, "S'long as ya don't fall again we won't have nothin' to worry about. The landlord just put a fresh charm on it so it won't fall. It was gettin' a little wobbly for a little while there."
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