[zurich] be the first to run [harlan]

Harlan's icy gaze, only intensified by the recent snow fall and flecks of white that dipped delicately into the ground, narrowed at the side of Honey's face. The very face that she had deliberately kept forward in an attempt to avoid eye contact, he had derived. Her actions were not a strong case for the notion that she had any idea where they were going. He smirked and reluctantly tore his gaze forward. He chose to go along with it for the time being while he was still enjoying the solitude of their evening. They hadn't seen a face since they left the event and it was just the way that he preferred it.

"I'll share," He replied dryly despite the fact that he knew well enough to be sure that Honey had already decided that for them. Harlan took the chilled bottle and tapped his wand to the cork, sending it flying into the snow, an eruption of bubbles floating over the rim without warning. "You've shaken this up," The captain grumbled, holding the bottle at arms length, waiting for it to settle.

The swig of champagne travelled through his body and almost immediately went to his head, coursing through his blood and warming him despite the temperature. The sensation of snow falling over his nose and cheeks was a welcome reprieve, electrifying his skin with every touch. He handed the bottle over to Honey, eyes still cast upward as she brought the conversation back to his earlier comments. It was coming sooner or later.

Harlan took a moment to dwell on her question, formulating how best to respond. Half of him wanted to keep the charade going, to keep making her sweat the comment that she had made under the guise of alcohol, but the other half knew that he would have to come clean at some point. He was distracted by the genuine smile in his direction, and even found himself smiling back. It was a rarity for the man who was so often scowling.

"Of course I don't feel bad for you," He couldn't help himself, letting out a sigh and following his hot breath as it traveled into the abyss of stars and darkness. "You could have your choice of any man to bring to something like this, you know that" Harlan practically rolled his eyes, already regretting his honesty. He made a note to slow down on the drink just before taking another mouthful and handing the bottle back to her. "So it did work, then?" He glanced at her casually, eyebrow raised. More in love with him. Perhaps there was more truth to his little game than anticipated.

His silence was worrisome. She knew she was toeing the line between joking about her feelings and actually discussing them, but maybe she had taken it too far. Or rather, maybe she had taken it back to when there had been actual, personal discussions between them, even after they had established they would not be going back there. “Oh, well that’s good,” she attempted to recover herself quickly, looking away as he did, unsure why she was a little offended that he didn’t actually feel bad for her. That wasn’t what she wanted, and she knew that, but it was proving difficult not getting caught up in the simple fact that Harlan Bellamy could sympathize with her.

“Hmm, that’s true,” she mused, one corner of her mouth lifting into a smile. He knew as well as she did that she had waited until the very last minute to ask him to attend with her, an event that promised to be exceptionally tedious and boring, and that she was genuinely surprised he had agreed. Honey didn’t think she had let that show, asserting that yes indeed, whoever she chose to be her date was the luckiest person in the world.

Honey took the bottle back gladly, happy for the distraction, though she didn’t lift it to her lips immediately, more interested by the next question. Had it worked? That was impossible to answer, really, considering she couldn’t remember how ‘in love’ she had been when he had originally said it -- no, if she had originally said it. She hadn’t said it. She didn’t say things like that.

“Yes,” she stated simply, before taking a large swig from the bottle to hide any smirk that might indicate she wasn’t being serious. She could feel his eyes on her, and she offered him a shrug as she handed the bottle back to him. “Madly, deeply, head over heels,” she continued, deciding that she could pretend to be in love with him for no more than ten seconds. “My heart aches,” she finished with a laugh, laying it on thick. She could only hope that she really had never said in the first place, as much as she had been convincing herself that she hadn’t.

“You’re welcome.” She smirked as she caught his eye, holding it for a few seconds before grabbing his arm and steering him to the right, the direction she had just decided they should be headed in. “Will you, at any point this evening, fill me in on what really happened?” As fun as continually guessing what else she might have said, she really was desperate to know.

As Honey agreed unabashedly with the statement that she had her choice of men chasing after her who have loved the excuse for a night in a foreign city with the mysterious redhead. Her confidence was unique to her, she was one of few that could pull off such bold statements without coming off as pretentious. Well, too pretentious, Harlan reminded himself in warning to not get too in over his head. "Mmm," He hummed thoughtfully with her quick compliance with his compliment, eyes still cast forward through slow, amused shakes of his head.

He could see why any man, or woman, would be happy to be her date for the night. It was romantic, if you were into that sort of thing. The small town, the snow, the ceremony of it all. Harlan, of course, wasn't interested in such simplicities. He preferred the electric numb of champagne in his blood, losing himself in the foreign streets, and of course making as many strangers as uncomfortable as possible. For a moment he wondered what had become of their tablemates' evening before turning his attention to Honey who'd spoken up again.

The infliction of her tone had given her away before she could continue her charade, another attempt at deflection, he assumed. And to think, he had just moments before explored the idea of coming clean. "I can tell," He replied dryly, turning to look at her with a smirk. He had to hand it to her, she certainly kept him on his toes. As their eye contact lingered, he silently dared her for a moment to let her guard down. A task, it seemed, that they both struggled with.

"Hmm," Harlan thought aloud after being pulled down another nameless street, eyes narrowing at Honey. They had arrived at the crossroads of the night, his chance to come clean or his chance to really mess with her. "Depends," He shrugged. Honestly, it did depend. But he sure as hell didn't plan to bend the knee to her sarcasm. Rewarding Honey's behaviour now would only mean she'd won their little battle, and it was far too early for that. "Will you, at any point in this evening, take us to our destination?" He countered casually, changing the subject.

“Yes, I thought I had made it pretty obvious.” It was probably a bit much, but she was nearly past the point of caring; a few more swigs of the champagne and she might reach it. But she hadn’t had enough at this point to appreciate the way he was looking at her, and she didn’t appreciate that she was enjoying it. He had a habit of doing that, seeming like he could tell what she was really thinking with just a look.

So Honey didn’t look back over to him as she led them down the new street, toward nowhere in particular. She raised an eyebrow, though still looking straight ahead, as he mused that the news would all ‘depend’. She sighed, holding her hand out for the bottle. “Yeah, we’re almost there,” she confirmed, though where ‘there’ was, she wasn’t sure. But she was close to figuring it out, at least. She took another swallow, not handing the bottle back once she was done.

Her eyes scanned the street for any sign of nightlife, for any sign that she wouldn’t have to keep making things up. Honey had apparently led them into a residential neighborhood, though, and the closest thing to ‘a good place’ was a dark park. Good enough. “Right there,” she confirmed with a nod, tugging at Harlan’s arm again to get him to change directions.

It was a small park, nothing special, paths, trees, snow on the ground and the benches. There was a handful of lights, but nothing overbearing. Definitely good enough. She hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions about her familiarity with the place, though she was fairly certain that he could see right through her. Again. "Does this earn me any information?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk.

“Good park,” she pointed randomly at a tree like she had seen it before and knew that to be the best one. “Good bench,” she half asked, though she was already pulling her wand out to clear it of snow. She lifted it up in the air with one swift motion, fully intent on just moving it to the side; but as soon as she had turned and caught Harlan’s eye again, she made the impulse decision to let the pile graze his shoulder, though her hand-eye coordination suffered from the alcohol, and it more or less hit him in the face. Everything happened so quickly; Honey laughed and covered her mouth with her hand, torn between apologizing and trying to do it again.

The habitually intense gaze from silvery blue eyes was dulled by the sensations Harlan had been inundated with that night; champagne. snowfall, terrible muggle music. It didn't help of course that he was currently following the guide of a familiar head of red hair despite his better instinct. There was no chance that Honey Bea Flume had any idea where she was going. This was evidenced, Harlan declared to himself, by her settling on the closest park in their proximity whilst holding their bottle far too close to her chest, to his dismay.

"Wow," Harlan stopped in his tracks, the sound of fresh powered snow crunched under his shoes that were clearly not built for their current terrain. The single word had escaped Harlan's lips, dry as the cold air around him and paired with a sarcastic raise of an eyebrow. His gaze took in the lackluster landscape with disdain. "This is really something," He would play along for the time being. To be fair, wandering around trying to find the place that Honey actually had in mind (if even in existence) was less than ideal, so he planned to attempt to bite his tongue.

As Honey made her way through each average tree and bench the place had to offer, the blond wizard feigned his own interest with ease despite the face that he was fully aware that she could see right through it. Enthusiasm was not something that Harlan Bellamy displayed carelessly, specifically as it pertained to subpar parks in foreign towns.

Harlan was too distracted by his own thoughts to notice that Honey had lifted her wand to move the pesky snowfall from where she'd chosen to sit, and most definitely was not prepared for a face full of flakes as they were thrown in his direction. For a moment, he paused, considering his options. He could just as easily have retaliated but he wasn't feeling particularly playful.

"Really?" He cooed, shrugging the snow from his shoulders and taking a deliberately slow step toward her. As Honey fumbled with her wand to continue her attack, he took another step, daring her to try again, his face just inches from her own now. Instead of a counter, he grabbed the bottle from her hands, throwing his weight onto the bench casually. "Are you done yet? He spoke just before taking another mouthful, not daring to tear his eyes from her own.

Honey wasn’t sure what sort of response she was expecting, but it was certainly something a little more than Harlan’s boring, ‘Really?’. “Sorry,” she offered quickly, stifling a laugh. She was having fun, anyway. She moved to put her wand away, knowing well enough when it was worth it to push Harlan’s buttons -- this wasn’t one of those times. He stepped closer, very close, and Honey felt a shiver that she didn’t think could be attributed to the cold.

She had no idea where they were, physically or metaphorically; they were somewhere in Zurich, and Harlan was awfully close, and that’s as far as her knowledge went. They had been going over it all night, talking about what Honey may or may not have said, what Harlan may or may not have thought about her mystery words, whether or not they were really anything anymore -- if they had ever been something to begin with.

The champagne was making it trickier to keep her thoughts in order; compared to twenty minutes ago, she was much closer to believing that he was telling the truth. She very well might have told him that she loved him, though whether or not there was any truth to her words was a harder puzzle to solve. Best to just not think about it, to just have a tiny bit more champagne -- “Hey!” Honey had been about to take another swallow from the bottle when Harlan relieved her of it. “I guess I am.” Either done with the snow or the champagne -- Harlan had made the decision for her.

“I dunno,” Honey started, slipping her hands into her coat pockets, taking a look at the trees she had pointed out earlier, almost appraising how worthy they were to look at. “I can’t apparate anymore.” They hadn’t been talking about the park not being the place she was going to show him, but she could see that he knew well enough. Not being able to apparate was probably a poor excuse, but it was easier than actually telling him they were lost. Hopefully he had paid attention to how to get back. She wouldn’t worry about it now.

She took a couple steps forward, stopping just in front of the quidditch player as he sat, not sharing the champagne. She was able to take a good look at him then, no outside distractions; the subtle streetlight did good things for him, catching on the few bits of snow that still lingered in his hair. After her brief hesitation she took a seat, avoiding the snow she hadn’t been able to clean off the bench, maybe having to get a bit closer to him than necessary if she had managed to clear all the snow. Closer to the champagne, though. She took it back and took another swallow before letting it rest on her knee as she held it by the neck.

“Feeling bad for me aside,” she started unprompted, “Thanks for being here.” She shrugged at how formal it all sounded. “Almost makes it worth getting all dressed up.” Never mind that he had also gone to Switzerland and sat through an overwhelmingly slow and boring award ceremony. She’d worry about that later.

Harlan leaned back into the cold park bench, his charmed outwear sparing him the chill, his demeanour smug, taking a drawn out swig from the bottle. As Honey mentioned that apparating was out of the picture, the captain nodded in agreement. The question that had been in the back of his mind the whole night crept lazily to the forefront. Where were they going to sleep tonight? Assuming there was any plan in place at all. Knowing Honey, anything was possible.

As he opened his mouth to speak the very question that suddenly seemed so important, the distraction of Honey Bea Flume next to him had proved itself to be priority. She had a way of making him forget his intent, no matter how strong. Harlan willingly handed over the bottle without so much as a fight, his gaze flicking to the sky in a dreamy haze of bubbles. Snowflakes again descended from the darkness, melting on his skin the moment that they landed, briefly igniting a spark with each touch.

Eyes still cast upward, Harlan processed the witches statement that had floated to his ears so divinely. The champagne hit him simultaneously like a brick wall and a cloud at the same time, shifting his so perfectly calculated balance. He finally turned to Honey, his gaze thoughtful. "Thanks for inviting me," He replied out of precedent although she had little to be thanking him for. Sure, he'd suffered through the award ceremony and all that came with the muggle celebration, but he was actually enjoying himself. For a moment, he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

"But really," Harlan swiped the champagne bottle, throwing an arm over her shoulders in the process. Neither of them could be cold with all of their charms, but He felt the need for physical touch, each point of contact like fire in combination with the champagne. "Was the big award winner granted a room? Or am I going to have to find a local inn with room to spare?" Harlan looked around them at the dimly lit village around them. "Separate beds of course," He handed the bottle back with a smile.

Honey shrugged off his own thanks, though her smile was harder to shrug off. He probably couldn’t see it though; she hid in the darkness and behind the bottle as she took another swallow. She missed the bubbles tickling her nose that accompanied drinking champagne from a glass; she supposed she could make a glass but that was just so much work and she was too comfortable to move.

She shifted as he put his arm around her, leaning in to take advantage of the warmth that wasn’t really needed but fully wanted. “Really,” she repeated, not sure what she was agreeing to, just wanting to keep him happy so that he’d give the bottle back to her when he was finished. Her hands felt so much emptier -- and so much more prone to straying -- without something to hold onto. She studied her nails for a few seconds before deciding that wasn’t enough and sticking them in her pockets.

“Oh, no. A big award room for the big award winner,” she nodded a few times, her words a tad more slurred than she would have preferred. It was probably more like a medium award room for a medium award winner, but that was really beside the point. But separate beds? “Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” There wasn’t exactly precedence for sleeping apart, and she was sure he knew that as well as she did. She probably couldn’t find her way back to the hotel right now, but that would only be important later. She returned his smile with a smirk, holding his gaze as she took another drink.

Honey’s grip on the bottle was loose as she got comfortable once more. “I don’t know where we are,” she admitted with a shrug, figuring he had already figured that much out for himself. “I did have a plan, though.” She nodded before taking another drink, having to tip the bottle back quite a bit to get anything out of it. “But getting to the bar would require having a sense of direction or knowing what it was called -- I can tell you exactly what it looks like, mind.” She nodded again, handing the bottle back so she wouldn’t be tempted to have more in such a short span of time.

“Bar sounds good, though,” she motioned to the bottle, completely forgetting she had a second one in her purse, “We’re almost out.” They’d be able to find somewhere if they wandered enough, she was sure, but she’d need more than a little bit of encouragement to get her to move from this floaty feeling that had since settled over her.