MPHFPC: Enorace Oneshots

Very short Oneshots

Yes, oneshots within oneshots. These are the shorter ones.

> Cussing
Enoch, with a smug grin on his face, crossed his arms in front of his chest and uttered one word.
"Crap."
Horace immediately zoomed over to Enoch, eyes as round as dinner plates and mouth in an 'O'.
"That's a bad word!" Horace gasped, covering his cheeks with his hands.
"I know." Enoch smirks.

> Before the romance
Horace had the hugest crush on Enoch.
A crush? On him?!? No... It must be my hormones...
"Bronwyn, why does my heart beat faster around Enoch?"
Bronwyn shrugs.
"And why do I get so nervous? Why do my cheeks get all hot?"
"Well, well, well." Bronwyn looks up from her book. "Seems like you fancy Enoch."
Horace turned bright Crimson. "No, no, it's nothing like that! Maybe it's just puberty..."
Bronwyn lets out a deep, throaty laugh. "Now that is not puberty. You're all red now."
"Am I?" Horace asks worriedly. I'll look like a complete fool!" He covers his face with his hands.
"Aww." Bronwyn coos. "You're so focused on looking good in front of Enoch. How cute."
"Im focused on looking formal and having actual fashion sense in front of everyone. I think you know by now that that's normal." He turns away, his cheeks splotchy and flushed.
"Denial is one of the most common human answers." Bronwyn states. "I learned that form Millard."
"I'm not denying anything!" Horace quickly squeaks, eyebrows furrowing.
"But you just did." Bronwyn smirked, walking over to Horace and gently pushing him towards Enoch's room.
"What are you doing?" Horace demands, struggling against her strong grip.
"Oh come on, Horace. You obviously fancy Enoch! Don't even argue with me."
"Be quiet, Bronwyn! Enoch isn't currently in his room!"
"No. You be quiet."

> Inexperienced love
"Good afternoon, Enoch." Horace tips his hat, smiling warmly.
"Afternoon, Horace." Enoch responds groggily, fidgeting with a lump of clay.
"Are you making anything?" Horace asks, trying his best not to turn red and run away.
"Not yet," Enoch exclaimed, squishing the clay into a flat circle with his thumb. "But I'm thinking of making my own clay animals. My soldiers have been getting very lonely."
Enoch looks up at him with his blue and brown eyes, and God, they were just so dreamy.
Horace gulped and flushed. "That sounds spectacular, Enoch." He glances away, head down and blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes. He had a shaky smile, and he bit his lip.
"Are you alright?" Enoch raised an eyebrow. "You look a bit... Red. Are you sick?"
"No, no." Horace brushed off, making eye contact with him again and brushing the hair out of his eyes. "Just a bit stressed."
"Oh." Enoch looks down at his clay, in which he had sculpted into a circle. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Oh! Right. You are excused." Horace steps out of the way to let Enoch pass, breathing a sigh of relief.
Once Enoch disappeared into his room, Emma stepped out from her door.
"How long have you been standing there?" Horace asks.
"Long enough." Emma replies, running a hand through her wavy hair. "He was totally flirting with you, by the way."
"No he wasn't. He's simply a friend." Horace coolly meets Emma's warm gaze, trying to keep his breathing even.
"A friend, you say?" Emma questioned, cocking a perfect eyebrow. "As you were blushing and stuttering? I don't think a friend does that in front of another. Don't you agree?"
Horace's face felt like it was on fire. He slipped on his gloves. "I was not blushing and stuttering. I was just simply stressed."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Goodness, why are you so stupid? Enoch fancies you, you complete numbskull."
Horace's face color was equivalent to a tomato by now. He dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. "But.. How do you know?"
Emma groans, exasperated. "Never mind. You'll find out soon enough."
She had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

>Chill House Party

Fiona stirs a simmering pot full of rosemary, apple slices, cinnamon, cloves, vanilla, and maple syrup, letting the warm and fragrant aroma reach every corner of the house. She inhales, the scent wafting through her nostrils and sighing contentedly.
"What is this wonderful smell?" A voice was approaching Fiona from behind. It was Miss Peregrine, peering over Fiona's shoulder to examine the contents of the pot.
"Ah, Rosemary." Miss Peregrine takes a whiff. "One of my favorite calming herbs."
Fiona smiles, letting the spices and herbs simmer a bit longer on the stove.
Meanwhile, upstairs, it is the exact opposite of chill. Hugh's bees were chasing Emma and Jacob around, and Olive and Bronwyn were playing pretend with Claire.
"Come hither, faithful knight!" Claire demands to Bronwyn in a knight costume, perched on a throne made of cardboard.
Bronwyn bowed. "I am of your loyal assistance, Princess Claire."
A distant playful screaming is heard in the drawing room, where Hugh's bees were cornering Emma. Another group of bees were buzzing after a sprinting Jacob.
"You'll never catch me!" He yells, not looking in front of him and ramming straight into a wall.
"Ooh!" Olive grimaces. "That's gonna leave a mark..."
Enoch sits sulking in a corner, softly laughing at Jacob's little crash. Horace glares at him.
"Enoch, that's not funny! He probably got seriously hurt." Horace drove his elbow into Enoch's ribs.
"Ow! Goodness, well, sorry." Enoch flinched. He pressed his mouth into a tight line.
The two boys watched Jacob stand up shakily as Emma rushes over to him, concerned. Hugh was standing off to the side, covering his mouth and laughing. Well, let's just say that things didn't turn out so well when Miss P found a hole in the wall where Jacob ran into.

> What tf have I done
"Um, Emma, why aren't they kissing yet?" Claire questions, craning her neck from a corner, with Emma watching.
Horace and Enoch were talking about their interests less than 2 feet away, stuttering and looking down at their feet. They were facing each other, and it frustrated Claire very much.
"Shh!" Emma shushed. "Just wait for it. If they don't, then we're gonna have to switch to plan B." She pulled Claire's body behind hers, both silently stalking.
"So..." Horace stated, adjusting his hat and smoothing the wrinkles from his suit. "How's your life going?"
"Could've been better." Enoch replies, his usual grumpy response. "You?"
"Ready?" Emma whispers, preparing to pounce. "On three, jump out and push Horace. One... Two..."
Claire's muscles tensed, her heart pounding within her chest. She thought it was going to break through the fabric of her dress any moment. She prepared her legs in a lunge, ready.
"Three!"
Emma and Claire jumped out from the corner and gave Horace a harsh shove into Enoch's body.
"What the fu-?!" Enoch began to scream, silenced by Horace's soft lips brush against his before Horace's head falling into Enoch's chest.
"Eep!" Horace let out a high pitched squeal and grabbed Enoch's rolled-up sleeves. He felt something on his lips, and he automatically freaked out.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, before both of them turning red.
"O-oh goodness! I apologize!" Horace's voice was trembling, and he nervously broke away and twiddled his thumbs.
Enoch bit his lip before averting his gaze quickly. "Emma... I am going to KILL YOU!"
"Run..." Claire panicked, her voice barely a whisper. Emma and Claire sprinted off to the other direction, laughing and high-fiving.
"Come back here this instant!" Enoch's voice raised to a frighteningly loud level. He bolted after them. Horace caught a glimpse of Enoch's red face.
Horace felt a light hand on his shoulder and he jumped.
"Millard!" He pried the hand off. "How long have you been standing there?"
Horace heard a snicker before hearing footsteps padding away.

> Cinnamon Roll
Horace, one day, was minding his own business playing a few notes on the piano before noticing a movement out of the corner of his eye.
"Horace," Olive's voice came from behind him.
"May I help you?" Horace breathed a sigh, clearly not wanting to be disturbed.
"You are a literal cinnamon roll when it comes to Enoch." She replied, a smile obvious in her voice.
"W-what?" Horace was very confused at this point. "A cinnamon roll?"
A giggle was heard.
"What the hell, Olive." The familiar gruff voice came from the kitchen. "What does that even mean?"
A humph came from Olive behind Horace. Horace sighed, very confused, and continued to press some keys on the piano.

Wow this is shit but hope you guys enjoyed!!