BeckstMirk's Cupboard

“Emma,” Tom said carefully from somewhere around the top of her head. His voice sounded slightly strained. “Is it just me, or did a fluffy white bunny just appear out of nowhere to land on my pillow?”

Emma couldn’t even be bothered to feel embarrassed about her pet rabbits escaping their hutch for the upteemth time, sometimes she swears she’s harboured some of Hermione Granger’s witch powers over the course of ten years in her veins enabling telepathtic communication to her pets that she is not about to chase them any time soon back into the confinds of their hutch, either that or rabbits were really in a secret organisation, only to appear at the most inconvienent moments, prefably during scenes requiring a heaving bosom and a swaggering Darcy like figure to march through the mist at sunrise

‘Note to self…you must really stop watching movies like that…it means you imagine Tom..and then Flopsey and Bunsey dash in probably with cupid to follow’ she thinks, before lifting her head with a sheepish smile to see the fluffy white bunny in question nibble curiously on Tom’s hair.
“Er,” she said helpfully.

“You said you were a sop, but honestly, Em. You could at least have warned me about the damage to my hair it would cause, I might’ve reconsidered this whole ‘in love’ business.” Tom replied, though he wasn’t moving his hair out of harm’s way, though.
In love. Emma inwardly squealed, as her other fluffy white bunny joined the first.