don’t lie, don’t tell the truth [harlan]

Only vaguely was Harlan aware of the pressure applied to his side— he had bigger fish to fry, as his father liked to say, and he couldn't afford to get caught up in her touch so late in the game. He straightened up and followed suit, dropping his own hand from her mouth if only to stop himself from taking that next step that he would have gone ahead with under, quite literally, any other circumstance. She said she should go and he knew from the look in her eye that she hadn't meant back to the party.

"And leave me to deal with that, alone?" He lifted his chin to the open door of the library with a grin that was pulled with something like disappointment.

He knew it was the right choice— there was nothing good to come of the course that they'd plotted, gin-soaked and reeking with imminent regret. "Who's going to get you home then?" Harlan couldn't help himself, his eyes flicking to her mouth again out of habit more than anything else. By no means was he offering himself up— that hadn't gone well the last time— but he did want to make sure that she would be able to, either way. "Pretty sure your man from earlier would be more than willing..." His finger touched her hip as he moved passed her to collect the glasses.

Honey zeroed in on his use of the word ‘alone’, almost relieved to hear it from him though she knew that wasn’t what he meant, or was trying to imply, or anything really. She gave him a small smirk, almost overcompensating for where her thoughts were going. “Looks better if we don’t both disappear.” Though it was tempting; they were still so close. She settled into something more of a sad smile as her decision to stop things finally sunk in.

But the distance between them—physical, among other sorts—wasn’t that much, and it felt like even less when he asked who was getting her home. She was staring at the obvious answer but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything or worse yet, do anything. Fuck.

Harlan mentioned her man and it took her a minute to catch up—what did he know that she didn’t know he knew?—and remember the man who’ d given her The Look after saying hello to Harlan. She jumped at the chance to talk about anything but them. “Think you could introduce me?” She smirked softly, wanting nothing less than to talk to anyone other than Harlan now.

He touched her hip lightly, moving around her and she swallowed hard, not turning to watch him clean up the glasses. Back still to him, she said, “Floo,” going back a step or two of conversation. Honey turned to face him after another second, a few more feet away now. “I flooed here, so I’ll just..” She trailed off, hoping it was clear that she was going home alone if she wasn’t going home with him.

“Will you just—“ she cut herself off, not sure where she’d been going with that sentence. She wanted him to stop showing up where she didn’t expect him—never mind that they were in his sister’s house or had met at a quidditch thing last month so maybe she needed to stop showing up where he didn’t expect her. Merlin. “Let me know how the cake is?” She lingered for another few seconds—her gaze raking over him one more time—before she willed herself to move toward literally any other room with a fireplace.

[[ out ]]

"Oh, I'm sure you're more than capable," Harlan glanced over his shoulder from where he collected his empty glass and the bottle. Honey was far from a wallflower— not that he actually thought that she wanted to get the introduction. Well, hoped.

Pulling his wand from the front pocket of his slacks, he gave a flick of the wrist to clean the lip of the decanter from where they had drunk. Audrey would undoubtedly go back in with her perpetually superior cleaning skill (or bin the whole thing altogether), but it would be rude to not at least give it a go. "Ah, right," Floo. The safest of the magical transport options while intoxicated. He adjusted the glass in between his fingers as he turned back to Honey, thankful his hands were full as a reason to keep them to himself for once.

Honey started to ask a question, then paused, Harlan, inclined his chin slightly as if to push her on it. There were a few questions that he thought he might want her to ask in the moment— could she stay, could he go— both of which he knew he would regret. Part of him was relieved when she mentioned the cake but more of him felt strangely disappointed.

"I'm sure it's shit," Harlan teased with a shake of his head. "Get home safe," He offered a moment too late, she was already halfway out the door.

fin