a place probably with a tree nearby

He frowned. "It's alright, don't worry." he said as his confused look turned into a smile. "You hungry?"

Was he actually smiling? "Uhm... yeah, sort of."

"Well, I got the marshmallows! And I also got graham crackers and chocolate. We'll make s'mores. So untraditional, huh?"

"Yeah, really."

"So unenthusiastic."

"So... you're smiling, that's weird in itself."

"Oh. Do you not like it when I smile?" Boris stopped smiling nervously.

"No, no! You have a very nice smile..." She stopped herself, ears burning again. "I-I mean you don't smile often! It's... Your face isn't stuck in that glare! Good for you!" That last part came out as more of a snark. As she'd hoped.

Boris nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's true."

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stuuuupid!

"Err... You go set up the fire, be there in a minute." Olivia edged along the wall and fell into the door to the bathroom. She felt like she was going to be sick. Food poisoning, maybe? She hadn't eaten that day.

Boris nodded. "Of course! You got it." he nodded, and smiled, then realized he had smiled. "Well, I do smile. You've never noticed until now." he then shrugged and went down the stairs to get the fire started. With his wand, of course.

[what's a wand]

Definitely a fever. Maybe it was just a cold. She'd been walking around out in the snow quite a bit, making runs to work and such. That must be it. If so, it was probably still infectious. What a dilemma!

Either way, she soon joined Boris downstairs by the fireplace. She made sure to keep a distance, though.

And so the two were roasting marshmallows. "You okay? You look pasty."

"I think I'm sick."

"Really?! Why didn't you say earlier!"

"Couldn't tell earlier."

"Do you have a fever?" Boris but his hand against her forehead. "You do..."

She jerked her head away. "What're you-- Hey, look, it's on fire."

Olivia's marshmallow fell off of the stake and into the burning chunk of wood. "... Oh."

Boris blinked a few times. Then he began to laugh. "Oh, Olivia! Here, I'll cook one for you.."

"I could've..." she grumbled. "Just give me another."

"And let you burn it? No way, we're not wasting these."

"I LIKE them burnt!" she insisted. "And I won't drop it this time."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You promise?" he asked.

"What's there to promise about? It's a marshmallow."

"It's a high-quality marshmallow. I bought them at that grocery. The most expensive pack."