The Chocolatier – Part 2: Dark and Sweet

The flat above the shop was narrow and bright, with a slanted ceiling and a kitchen that smelled of cocoa and cardamom. A little iron stove hummed in the corner. Rain tapped the window above the canal.

"I like it," said Sanne, turning slowly. "It feels like you."

"Small and sticky?"

"Warm."

Lotte stepped close and rested her hands lightly on Sanne's waist. "You are sure?"

"I'm sure." Sanne slid her fingers over the silver rings. "I'm very sure."

The kiss tasted of dark chocolate and salt. Lotte kissed the way she worked, slowly, attentive, with a quiet certainty that made Sanne forget her own name. They moved to the bed under the slanted ceiling and the lamp stayed on. Sanne laughed when a button caught on a ring. Lotte laughed back, and the laugh turned into something softer. Hands traced shoulders and the curve of a back. Breath quickened. Rain kept time against the glass.

"You are not afraid," whispered Lotte, much later.

"No," said Sanne. "Not at all."

They woke to the clatter of the street market and light bouncing off the canal onto the ceiling. Lotte brought a tray of warm rolls and a single praline with a tiny gold leaf on top. "A new recipe," she said. "I have not named it."

Sanne bit into it. Dark chocolate, salted caramel, a hint of orange. "It's perfect."

"Then you name it."

"Sanne's Mistake," said Sanne, grinning.

"That is a terrible name."

"It's the only honest one." She kissed Lotte, sticky and happy. "Chapter twelve, I think. The last one. The title is Stay for Another Lesson."

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