"Which flavour are you looking for?" 

♡

Earlier that week...

The apartment door closes with a forcibly loud bang, making Henry jump a little and turn to see his less than happy flatmate Blake standing by the door, unlacing his boots and stepping out of them before hanging up his jacket. He proceeds to drag his seemingly fed up body to the couch, letting it fall back heavily onto the cushions, creating a whoosh of air, which blows on Henry's face.

"So I guess the casting didn't go well?" He asks with trepidation. Earning an obvious glare from Blake. 

"No." He confirms. "Ah Henry. I don't even know what these agencies want anymore." He sighs, letting his head fall back on the couch as he rubs his tired eyes. 

"Well, what exactly was the issue this time?" Henry asks, now turning down the tv to face Blake, giving him his full attention. 

"Apparently my thighs don't suit their jeans!" Blake says half laughing at the words coming out of his mouth.

"What is this nonsense? Your thighs are legendary! They would surely sell the jeans." Henry doesn't get it either.

Blake smiles at Henry's attempt at his reassurance. "Thanks, but I'm still out of work and I'm running out of money, I need to catch a break soon, or I'll have to get a proper job." 

Henry rolls his eyes. "There's no shame in getting what you call a 'proper job'." He quotes the words as he gets up from the couch and heads towards the kitchen, pulling a Sprite from the fridge. "We're not all privileged to have that choice." 

Blake looks down at himself, realising how insensitive his comment had been. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound selfish, it's just hard you know, I mean last year, I was in Tokyo, I had fashion shoots nearly every week and now, nothing. It's like I had it and now it's gone and I don't know what to do." 

Henry pulls a second can of fizz from the fridge and takes it to the couch, offering it to Blake, who takes it and lazily pulls back the ring. "Look, you didn't get the gig this time, but maybe next time you will."

Henry sits back down next to Blake and begins to rummage around the cushion where he had been sitting. "Hey, maybe these will make you feel better." He produces a small packet of posh looking chocolate buttons.

"What are these?" Blake looks, furrowing his brow at the unfamiliar packet, reading "Candy Cabin buttons" on the brown paper bag.

"They're posh chocolates." Henry says with pride as he offers the packet to Blake, gesturing for him to take one. 

"Posh chocolates? And how come you are eating posh chocolates all of a sudden?" He asks, pushing one of the posh chocs into his mouth. 

"Dale,  He works at the cabin doesn't he. He got them for me. He knows I like chocolate." 

"Dale? You mean honeybear?" Blake questions, smiling.

"Yes, honeybear." Henry laughs. 

Blake joins in with the laughter. "I never hear you call him Dale. I guess honeybear suits him better with him working in a candy shop and all." 

"Yeah." Henry says smiling.

It isn't long before the buttons are polished off, mostly by Blake to Henry's annoyance. 'Hey, you were only meant to have a couple!" He pouts, his fingers chasing nothing but air in the paper bag. 

"Sorry. They were good!" Blake smiles a little guiltily. "I'll head out and buy you some more tomorrow." 

Henry just rolls his eyes and sighs. Low key, glad he would be getting another bag of buttons, if they even made it to him with Blake being the courier. 

***

The next day, as promised, Blake makes his way to the 'Candy Cabin'. He steps inside to see Henry's friend behind the counter, tying a ribbon around little cellophane pouches of jelly sweets. 

Dale looks up and acknowledges the customer, before carrying on with the monotonous task Alfie had given him. 

Blake smiles back, knowing the guy didn't know who he was but knew of him... 'honeybear.' Henry's little crush. He wondered if Dale had any idea. 

The thought made Blake emit a small chuckle, causing Dale to look up again. "Can I help you?" He asks, not really sure why the customer was smirking. 

Blake takes a few steps towards the counter. "Actually yes you can! I want to buy some of your chocolate buttons please." 

Dale puts down the roll of pink ribbon and moves from around the counter. "Over here..." Dale says, gesturing for Blake to follow. He is now faced with three rows of chocolate buttons, all neatly displayed in their brown paper packaging. 
"These are all our buttons. Which flavour are you looking for?" Dale asks, standing back a little, allowing Blake to take a step closer to assess his choices. 

There were far too many to choose from. Blake felt a little blind sighted. They ranged from vanilla to caramel, from mint to orange, to plain. "You tell me." He finally says. "It's actually for my flatmate Henry."

Dale looks at Blake wide eyed! "Henry Hall? You're Blake Pullen, the model?" 

"Yeah and yeah." Blake says smiling. 

"Well in that case, you're best off going with the solid chocolate. But he seems to like whatever I give him." 

Blake tries to suppress a giggle at Dale's words, "Ok, I'll take some of those. Thank You honeybear." 

"What?" Dale looks at Blake a little puzzled. 

Blake suddenly realises his slip up. Yes, Henry did call Dale honeybear, but not to his face!

"I'll pay for them over there...thanks." Blake smiles, putting on his cutest grin before grabbing the chocolates and heading swiftly to the counter to pay. 

Dale heads back around to the cash register and takes the payment. "Nice to meet you. You'll have to come over some time! I'll get Henry to invite you." Blake says as he steps back away from the counter smiling, he puts the chocolates into one of his coat's deep pockets.

"Yeah you too." Dale smiles, thinking how Henry's flatmate was just a little weird. 

Blake leaves the little store and looks up and down the street. He has never really ventured to this part of the town before. It always seemed a little twee for him, but the way the street looked so quaint and cobbled, put him in mind of diagon alley. Maybe he should explore while he is here.

Across the street, Blake spots a little shop. In its windows, he notices bright paintings of objects, some bowls of delicious fruit, others more random, with peacock feathers and glass bottles and butterflies with beautiful wings.

Blake crosses the street, the images almost like a pull. He stares through the window for a time, before deciding to move on. It's then he sees it, through the window, further back in the shop. A painting. A seascape hanging behind the counter. 

Blake puts both his palms to the window, staring at the image in awe. He knew the scene straight away. It was St Ives, it was home!

He makes his way to the door, trying to push it open before seeing the 'Closed" sign. He checks his watch. It was only just past lunch. Why was the shop closed in the middle of a weekday? 

He sighs in annoyance with not being able to go inside, but he really wanted to get in there. To look at that painting. To buy it. It just wouldn't be today.

He finally walks away, vowing to himself that he would have to come back at the next available opportunity. He wanted that painting.