something easy || harlan

She wouldn't be entirely opposed. Harlan raised an eyebrow in thought, weighing what that meant in the present. It was an act that was usually reserved for something intimate, reading to someone— more intimate than sex— like a knife in the stomach, he remembered all of those nights with Arya who preferred the way that words sounded from his mouth as opposed to in her own head. Fuck.

Harlan did what he could to distance himself from those memories and instead followed Montserrat's attention to the bookshelf, flashing back to her as she spoke, up her legs to her shorts right where her shirt was pulled up into a knot. He had to get better about that. "A trade-off?" He tried to make out the titles from afar but struggled. "I'll have to get a better look, make sure it's a fair trade..." His tongue prodded the side of his mouth as he met her eye. He wasn't about to give away one of his his favorites for something mediocre.

Not that he didn't trust her taste.

At the mention of their own little secrets, Harlan felt the familiar flip of the switch. His blood was warmer now. Again, he held strong in avoiding explaining how he'd ended up with a bloody cat. "Ah, he's alright," He glanced at her own cat, Cosmos, who had glared back at him before hesitantly stepping around to flick his tail around Harlan's shin. That was a start, he thought.

"He's very happy looking after himself..." Harlan finally looked back up to her, now with a smile. "When I'm traveling, he's got a caretaker—" He leaned down to give Cosmos a pat. By caretaker, he meant the head of PR for the Griffins who couldn't stand the idea of Aslan alone for too long. "— he's quite spoiled," He stood up straight again, suddenly aware that he had no fucking clue what he was doing here, in her kitchen, having small talk.

“You say that as if I have no taste in books, I’m offended,” she retorted sarcastically, very curious about the sort of novel he would choose. He didn’t seem like the type to enjoy an adventure or action novel no matter how much his job might suggest it, but also didn’t seem like he’d go for one of the romance novels on the shelf. Montserrat herself had very little exposure to English literature so had spent her free time becoming acquainted with the subject for the sake of improving her English. It helped a little but there were still little nuances she missed, though she assumed that was cultural.

Had he known how to speak Spanish, she might have guided him in the direction of her favorite novels, mostly romance but the complicated sort that made you cry, feel angry, and elated all with the same sentence. It was a talent that she believed only writers in the Spanish-language were capable of achieving. “What about Don Quixote?” she offered. It was a muggle book but excellently written and though it was rather long, it was a book worth paying attention to. “Do you read a lot of muggle stuff?” she asked, unsure of how he felt on the subject but not wanting to offend his sensibilities if he found them not to his taste.

Montserrat was neutral on the issue of blood purity but it wasn’t very common to see a pureblooded witch pay much attention to muggle things. Her parents, however, had always been open to knowledge and did not allow politics keep them from understanding things. The witch had been grateful for the experience which came in handy when her first roommate was muggleborn and exposed her to all of the interesting things related to muggle culture.

She nodded, letting Cosmos be if Harlan was not otherwise exposed. “Well cats ought to be spoiled, that’s why they’re so cute,” she added with a smile, walking over to the bookshelf to pull a couple of her favorites out. “Why don’t you try these? Some are in Spanish but a translation spell ought to do the trick,” she offered. “Unless of course, they’re not up to the standards of your very refined tastes,” she teased.