This is totally what it looks like..[Emily]

As bad as it might have sounded out loud, had the man ever actually dared to say it to anyone, he did enjoy sleeping around. Wincing internally, he had to admit that that did sound bad. But it was fun, no strings attached, no worries, and generally no having to worry about calling anyone back or to begin with. Relationships weren’t serious things, not for Leifr. He’d never cheat, or do anything that extreme if and when he was in a relationship.Those were wrong and unforgivable things, but he hadn’t been in a real relationship in quite some time. Most of the time, he liked that he wasn’t anchored down to one commitment, but did enjoy the rare thing when it came along. He also had nothing against people who did feel that there could be and was such a thing as long term commitment.His little brother and a few more of his family members were in good solid relationships, but for right now Leifr was convinced that they weren’t for him.

This was made to seem even more like the truth by the fact that he had been flirting with a pretty blonde woman who had been sitting across the bar from him. She’d come in an hour or two before, and alone. She had seemed genuine and intelligent enough that Leifr had struck up a conversation with his customer. It wasn’t as if he saw every conversation with a woman in his pub or on the street as a chance to get lucky, sometimes just talking to his patrons was an enjoyable past time. Though the fact that she had started flirting with him, hadn’t hurt his ego any. Flirting was fun, and usually harmless, unless it progressed to something more than simply just flirting. Even when it did progress past flirting, Leifr still didn’t see it as much of a problem. He had two rules to flirting with his customers; they couldn’t be regular patrons, and nothing could come of it, until after his shift ended. The other rule the wizard had was that he never pushed for more than what was offered, he might be a womanizer, but he still liked to think of himself as at least respectful, even if others didn’t always agree.

He’d just finished cleaning things up for the night, and had been intending to lock the door, when his friendly customer had decided to intercept him half way to the door. This is what had found Leifr with his back against the bar, and any other thoughts of doing anything remotely productive out of his mind. That was the advantage to being a manager as well as the barkeep, knowing the hours, and when even the most loyal patrons went home. Not to mention the added benefit of living above the pub itself. This was where the ex-Gryffindor had been planning on inviting the mystery woman, upstairs, to somewhere more private, where people couldn’t walk in or see them making  out on the bar of the Stag & Hen. For all his bad habits with women, making out with them in plain sight, in his place of employment wasn’t something at the top of his list. The man knew better than to think of that as something that would ever be considered remotely appropriate.

The problem was, that no matter how many times he had tried to suggest moving upstairs, the woman, whose name he wasn’t even sure of, Elise,Candy? Was it? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to try and ask while she seemed hell bent on devouring his face. Normally this wouldn’t have been something that the man would have minded, and probably would have encouraged, but he couldn’t get past the fact they were still in the pub, and people could likely still see them. If He’d owned the place or worked there, he wouldn’t have cared but Leifr liked his job, a lot, and didn’t want to jeopardize it. Though naturally the part of his brain that was trying to remind him of this fact was losing out, greatly, to the part of his brain that liked the way she was pressed up against him.

Leifr didn’t believe in karma, but he did believe in a little luck every now and then, and today it seemed as if both of those things were bound to bite him in the ass, hard. Normally the man wasn’t one to let him lose track of his surroundings, or the things going on around him, but he had run out of luck, in a very big way. He’d been so ‘focused‘ on returning the affections of the blonde pressing up against him, Leifr had only thought he’d heard the door open, but figured that whoever had walked in, had they walked in at all, and it wasn’t just his imagination, would get the memo and leave fairly quickly. So, because of this, the wizard had been content to ignore the individual who had made the mistake of thinking the pub was still open. After a few beats, something felt off or wrong, so he decided it might be best to see if anyone was standing there awkwardly. Leif hadn’t actually expected anyone to be there when he opened his eyes, so it had taken his brain a few moments to register who was standing there, looking somewhat perplexed and put off by he and his companion,and why he thought he recognized her. Then it clicked, just as she turned to leave. Oh.Shit. It was Emily, the girl  he’d half rescued from the creep a couple of weeks ago. He had yet to stop kissing his blonde back, but his eyes went wide, registering the shock, and the embarrassment of being found in that type of situation by someone he knew. Disengaging the woman from him, he quickly came up with a lie, a very bad lie, but it got rid of her fairly quickly. Thanking Merlin for that small grace Leifr grabbed his coat which hung by the door of the pub, and after watching his guest leave, he quickly flicked his wand, locking the doors of the pub behind him.There was no way he was ever forgetting to do that again.   

Scanning the thinning crowds for the surely disappearing woman, he found her a few blocks down, and lengthened his stride into a jog to catch up. He wasn’t sure why he was following her, except for the fact he knew he wanted his sweatshirt back, and unless he caught up with her, he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to get it back. As he caught up to her, he made sure to compose himself, tucking away any of the embarrassment that might be on his face away, and getting ready to give her an ‘I don’t care that you just walked in on that scene.Nope, not at all’. Truth was, he probably wouldn’t have cared half as much, had he not been caught in a position that was one of his biggest pet peeves, and the fact that it had been her. Last time they had met things hadn’t gone well, and they had succeeded in annoying each other to no end before she had ended apparating home, with his sweatshirt. Finally catching up with her, Leifr laid a  light hand on her shoulder “Hey, did you need something?” Pause, keep it together man, you don’t care “Or were you just returning my sweatshirt?” He hoped it was the latter, being that he knew after having seen what she had just seen, she probably wouldn’t ever come around again, which was fine, as long as he got his sweatshirt back.

While he waited for Emily’s response, he wondered what her face would look like, maybe he could find the humor in the situation, just to make himself feel better about the whole thing. Especially since he had a feeling that they wouldn’t just be discussing his sweatshirt anymore, he had a feeling she was going to give him another what for over his behavior or something like that. Naturally, with his nerves set on edge and set for a bit of an argument, Leifr pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag as he waited to see what would happen next. Merlin, he somehow always had a knack for ending up in situations like these when he least expected it.

Was she actually doing this? The answer was a yes. A very, very reluctant yes. At least, Emily was telling herself that she did by no means want to go back to that pub and visit the man that had told her she was an incessant critic. Running her fingers through her tangled hair, the twenty one year old Ravenclaw stared at herself in the mirror. In case she got sidetracked, would this sweatshirt be enough to keep her warm? She thought so. There was a fleece lining instead of that last one that had been plain cotton. Em strolled over to her closet, pulling out her pair of chucks and the sweatshirt that was hanging in the corner. She hadn’t worn it since the night she’d fallen asleep in it and she hadn’t washed it either. Oh well. It wasn’t like she drooled in her sleep or anything... at least, she hoped she didn’t. Lennox might’ve been kind enough to tell her by now. That thought brought a smile to her face, if not a twisted one. He hadn’t been by in about a week, but keeping the sweatshirt where he couldn’t see it had been the wisest decision.

Emily went back to the mirror and did a once-over of her appearance once more before she shoved the sweatshirt into her messenger bag. Here went nothing. Making sure she had a clear idea of where she’d apparated home from the last time, Emily closed her green eyes and thought hard of landing in the same exact spot. Apparition had never bothered her much, unlike some other people, so she was relatively unaffected by its unusual sensation. The goal she had in mind was clear: get to the pub, return the sweatshirt, and leave. Maybe he wasn’t even working. That would have been even better.

The witch walked slowly but deliberately down the street, making sure to dodge all the people in the way in the process. There were definitely more people out now -- it was a weeknight and so people were turning in earlier than usual to get ready for work in the morning. What had he called his pub? The Ox and Chicken? She couldn’t remember. Some pairing of barnyard animals. It was all the same to her, anyway. Emily finally came across a pub called the Stag and Hen -- that must’ve been it. All of the other pubs and bars had been clever wizarding puns, and this name seemed rather plain. She couldn’t decide whether she disliked it or not.

Turning the handle to enter the pub, she was surprised to see that there was nobody in there -- nobody but Leifr and a companion that was very close in proximity. And female. Forgetting completely about the sweatshirt, Emily stood there for a couple of seconds, not knowing what to do with herself or how to handle the situation. Blinking at the pair of people that were basically attached, she shook her head and turned around, hurrying out of the pub before Leifr got the chance to catch up with her. She wasn’t sure he even cared enough to leave to see what she’d wanted, but maybe she was wrong. How fucking awkward. That had been a necessity in life, to walk in on someone making out with some blonde bombshell. She stared at the sidewalk, not minding where she was going as much as when she’d come, and focused on the cracks passing underneath her feet. It wasn’t until a hand was laid gently on her shoulder that she jumped. Recognizing the voice, she promptly shrugged the hand off and stepped away.

When she finally looked at him, he looked almost out of breath. Had he been running? Frowning at his question, she almost responded and then he said something else. Oh. Of course. He only wanted to know about his sweatshirt. The first part had only been him being polite, she suspected. It had been rude of her not to check the closing hours of the pub, she supposed. Shaking her head lightly again, she snapped out of her reverie and worked to avoid eye contact. She didn’t want to give anything away -- what thing? There was no thing. Nothing. No thing at all. Emily reached into her bookbag and held out the sweatshirt, nodding. “Um...” A blush colored her cheeks rather quickly, spreading across most of her face. She never said um. Not that he knew that, but it was so improper and common and... ugh. What the hell was this?

“Yeah. Just returning it. I’ll be going now.” The brunette smiled wryly and turned on her heel to walk away slowly, feeling slightly reminiscent of the last time she had left him. This time, though, she felt no need to argue. She didn’t want to argue. Em was too mortified to even make a sarcastic joke about him and that woman. She even felt a little disturbed. Why? She didn’t know, she just knew that she wanted to get out of there before he asked her any questions. Emily knew this feeling, and right now she couldn’t afford to care about one more person. Chewing on her lip, she fiddled with her fingernails as she walked, nearly tripping on her own feet. Leave! Go, you idiot! She scolded herself, wondering why her body wasn't moving to get away any more quickly than it was.

She wasn’t looking him in the eye. Why wasn’t she looking him in the eye? Normally Leifr wasn’t surprised or confused by many things women did, but right now the man was quite confused.  He couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t looking him in the eye or why she wasn’t full of sarcasm and bite, what was going on? Hmpf. He didn’t like being confused, it was usually a skill he was proud of, the ability to read women’s body language and understand most of their actions. If he’d been confused initially, when he noticed Emily blushing and ‘uming’ rather than glaring at him and telling him how scummy he was, he was completely confused. Raising his eyebrow slightly, Leifr cleared his throat and took the sweatshirt from her outstretched hand. Merlins sake, neither one of them were doing a good job of making this less awkward than it already was. Clearing his throat again he spoke “Sorry, you, uh, walked in on that. I normally don’t make a habit of letting that happen” Oh yeah. This was awkward, but at least he had his sweatshirt back, right? Yeah,right.

This whole thing was turning out to be just too weird, unusual for the ex-Gryffindor, he had expected a tongue lashing, and all he’d gotten out of her was an um, and his sweatshirt. While he waited for her answer, he took his time observing her, something was definitely up. Leifr wasn’t one for minute details, at least not unless he was trying, like at the moment, and the fact that something was wrong was staring him in the face but he really couldn’t figure out what it was, and it was driving him mad. Before she’d hardly said two words in response to his apology, she was leaving, walking down the sidewalk. It was oddly familiar, her walking away from him, and him just going about whatever business he’d been up to before. Except this time, that business had left too. He’d had to lie to her to get her to leave so he could go after Emily, and his sweatshirt. There was no way he was leaving her in the pub alone, she’d been just drunk enough to do something stupid or make a huge mess, so he’d decided to send her packing.

There he was, gaping after her like a fish out of water. What in Merlins name was he doing? He felt like an idiot, but once he realized that his feet were following her, he felt even dumber. But the icing on the cake was when his mouth decided to spit out “Wait,don’t go.” Wait, don’t go? What was that? He never said things like that, or at least he hadn’t in a long time, but that was besides the point. Leifr felt like such a girl, this was not what he did when it came to women, this was not right. Then when Emily had nearly tripped, he’d instinctively reached a hand to catch her if she fell. While under any other different circumstances he wouldn’t have thought anything of it,but she was different, this whole situation was different. Felt wrong, was weird. Leifr couldn’t say he was a fan of being confused by a situation he was in, it never ended well. Then it hit him, she wasn't running away, in fact,it looked like she was walking slower than her normal pace. He was slightly annoyed, but not with her, with the situation. In a situation like this, he wasn't used to not being in control or at least feeling comfortable. He was going to figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

His apology had been a little haphazardly thrown together, probably because his remorse was really limited -- the reason for it was more than likely that he’d seen her looking uncomfortable and felt obligated to apologize for his typical actions. He might not have done it in public places all the time, but Emily didn’t really doubt that he did behind closed doors. She let out a big breath and finally looked at him, quickly, and then away again. Emily finally nodded at his cautious, shaky apology and then said shortly, “That’s fine.” Her response was rather monotone and clipped. Not cold, not frosty or snippy, just plain. Plain like the rest of her persona, her being. Her life certainly wasn’t plain and there was nothing she could do to make it that way -- maybe that was why she herself was so simple and boring and bookish in most people’s eyes. The reason that friends were practically nonexistent. There was nothing worth spending time around. After she’d given Leifr the sweatshirt and turned to walk away, there was a burden lifted off of her shoulders, but it had been replaced with another one -- perhaps one even heavier than the last.

She almost felt relieved when she thought he was going to leave her to go home in peace and forget that their two meetings had ever happened. Em would go home to Lennox and everything would be normal again, back to their routine... routine of push and pull, give and take, beg and condemn.... was there something wrong here? A disoriented twenty one year old witch walking down a London street was nothing remarkable, so why was he following her again? His frantic words registered in her mind, sharp and clear as a blade, and Em slowed her footsteps even further, eventually coming to a complete stop. She did a little turn, not all the way around, but enough to see his face. Wait? Don’t go? She frowned a little bit at him, a fleeting expression, and opened her mouth to speak. Nothing was coming out. What was she even supposed to say to that? Another moment of silence passed before she finally spoke. “Why shouldn’t I go?”

It was a legitimate question, after all, and one that was definitely on her mind. He’d caught up to her and gotten what he’d wanted from her. Was there something else she had that he wanted? Emily was growing completely sick of waiting for people and being let down, getting nothing in return. It was a familiar feeling, yes, but that didn’t mean it hurt her less and less each and every time it occurred. Crossing her arms to protect herself psychologically, Emily waited for his answer patiently. She was surprised to realize that she cared enough about what he had to say on the matter that she would stay until he figured out how to respond.

Dammit. What was with it getting so cold so early these days? It was even colder in Scotland than in England, but Emily hadn’t really been outside in Scotland except to scout for more volumes of books. She was determined not to shiver, and succeeded. You could make yourself not shiver if you really set your mind to it. Maybe she should’ve tried coming during the actual daytime and avoiding this whole problem altogether. “Did I forget something? I thought I cleaned out the pockets completely.” This could’ve been interpreted sarcastically, but it wasn’t how she meant it. She was honestly genuinely curious about what the hell had compelled him to ask her to not leave yet. Emily hoped her tone would give that much away, anyway.

It was clear from the look on Emily’s face that she wasn’t buying his apology. At first Leifr felt like grumbling internally about how that was probably typical coming from someone like her, but then he realized he probably really didn’t mean it. He’d been about to frown, and to say something to assure her that he meant what he’d said, but he knew better than that. The man knew that he often was apologizing in that same manner for varying different reasons, and that the last one had meant no more than the first apology of that kind, that he’d uttered. It wasn’t something the wizard was terribly proud of, and this became less and less so as the years went by. He was recognizing his bad habits more and more these days, and not liking it in the least. Besides, he was still feeling like the biggest sissy that there ever was, the revelation did nothing to help his already injured pride.

Hurt pride, or no pride, he was surprised to see that she’d stopped walking away from him, despite his plea to not go. The type of Leifr had grown used to dealing with were the type that would have either ignored that kind of behavior, or clung to it like a wet blanket. The Gryffindor hadn’t expected either reaction from the woman in front of him, not at all, she was different, that was already very clear. What he couldn’t figure out is why he couldn’t figure her out. He knew he wasn’t rusty, he could still kind of read the girl, but things weren’t going like they normally would be by Leifr’s standards. Not in the sense that he hadn’t taken her to bed yet, but in the sense that normally by now he’d managed to get to know someone like her well enough to figure them out. Yet here he was, feeling as confused as she looked. Grateful for the silence, and time to try and figure out what in Merlin’s name was going on, for about the third time in the span of their conversation, Leifr was pulled out of his inner turmoil by her question.

Why shouldn’t she go? Bloody hell. How was he supposed to answer that? The man could practically already taste the leather of his shoe. He knew that if he didn’t answer the question almost exactly, he might as well have opened his mouth, and put his foot into it. It was questions like these that Leifr tried his best to avoid at all costs. They usually lead to other probing questions, and he didn’t doubt that Emily was the type to ask probing questions if she was curious, or felt comfortable enough. For a moment he couldn’t help but stare right back at her, unable to think of an intelligible answer to spit out as a response. This wasn’t the kind of question he could just answer off the hip! He had a feeling it was one of those situations that involved feelings, the kind he usually tried to avoid on a regular basis, and was successful in doing so. Today was different, there was still nothing he could think of that wouldn’t end up with him putting his foot in his mouth, or giving some kind of answer that would confuse him and,probably her more than they already both were. 

As he stood there, looking at Emily, still saying nothing, and her still standing there waiting for an answer, his pettier side hoped that she’d get mad at his lack of an answer and storm off in a huff. At least that way he wouldn’t have to answer the damned thing. This hope was dashed when he saw the woman cross her arms. Leifr knew enough by now to know that when a woman crossed her arms, for one reason or another, they were usually sticking around. Sighing heavily, first internally,and then outwardly a few minuets later, the wizard opened his mouth, intending to tell her that he didn’t want her to go because he’d wanted to see how she’d been doing. That would have only been a lie, and would have ended up with him sticking his foot in his mouth,but his brain couldn’t even get that far, instead of saying anything at all, Leifr ran his hands through his hair out of habit, and looked down to stare at his shoes while he tried to convince his brain that telling a lie like that would hurt no one in this situation.

He was feeling like the world’s most incapable speaker, really at a loss for any kind of answer, but he couldn’t think of anything other than the truth. He didn’t know why he’d asked her to not go, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that much out loud, so rather than annunciate his words Leifr mumbled them rather inaudibly “I uh, I don’t know” As he braced himself for the awkward pause that was sure to follow, he was rescued by Emily’s next question. Hoping she hadn’t heard his slight admission to being rather unsure of his own actions, he replied to that one easily and cooly. Shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyebrows slightly he replied in an equally plain tone “No, I don’t think you did, I think I’ve got everything I need. Thanks for returning it, though. It’s actually one of my favorites.” There that aught to do it, he’d regained his composure, and had managed not to give a whole lot away, at least thats how he hoped Emily saw it too. Merlin, this whole situation was beyond him, unlike anything he’d dealt with in a long time. He didn’t like it any more than he had in the moments before. 

There was a long, heavy, silent pause hanging in the air. Emily wasn’t one of those people that couldn’t handle silence, so she had no issue with standing there and waiting patiently. Leifr, however, looked almost disturbed. He was looking at her, his eyes a little frantic and for a second, she could’ve sworn he was about to say something, and then he’d stopped. It was getting a little windy and the cold was biting at the skin she had exposed and blowing her brown hair everywhere. Maybe he’d at least offer to go inside so that they could have this.. conversation, if you could call it that, someplace else. Could you really consider it a conversation if there weren’t any spoken words? That was something to ponder in the Ravenclaw’s mind. Shuddering and wrapping her arms around herself tighter, as if that would do her any good, she realized that yes, you probably could.

Now, he’d been so talkative the other night. Why the hell was this question any different? Why couldn’t he talk now, when she actually wanted him to? Maybe he was embarrassed. He probably should’ve been, anyway -- Em had never and would never dream of someone walking in on her with someone. She wondered how many times that had happened to him before, and why this time was any different. Why he’d taken the time to run out after her, but of course, it was because of his sweatshirt. She kept coming back to the same questions in her own head with the same answers, however accurate or inaccurate they were. He’d already taken his things back anyway, so if he’d said it was only about his belongings, why was he stalling her departure?

Ah. There it was. So he didn’t know why he’d asked her to stay, either. Lovely. They’d really gotten themselves into some deep self-reflection, hadn’t they? Emily shook her head a little, but otherwise pretended that she’d heard nothing of his quiet admission. She didn’t want him to freak out and go up on his haunches again, that would’ve been no good. She was having some equally pressing problems herself -- perhaps the one about figuring out why she actually cared what he thought, and why she hadn’t just thrown the sweatshirt at him, ignored his plea, and gone home. That’s what the sensible, normal Em would have done. Who was this girl, and why was she here? Emily wasn’t sure she liked her all that much. She made her think about things. Not things in books, not philosophy, but what was actually happening in that very moment, which was something the twenty one year old tried to avoid at all costs.

Tucking pieces of flyaway hairs behind her ears, Emily nodded at Leifr. “Alright, then. You’re welcome, I suppose. Thanks for lending it to me, especially since it’s your..” pause. “Favorite.” Smiling wryly, the witch didn’t know what she was supposed to do next. Leave? Stay? Keep standing in the same awkward position and staring back at him like they’d been doing for the last five minutes? She almost wished that she hadn’t commented about forgetting anything. Maybe then he’d have answered the question more thoroughly than “uh, I don’t know”. Should she say that it was time for her to be going? That she had to be somewhere? Even though both of those statements would have been complete lies, Emily was torn between escaping and facing whatever this issue was.

“I, uh..” Uh?! Why on earth did she keep saying those dratted syllables? If there was one thing Emily hated, it was being anything less than eloquent in her speech, and ‘uh’ and ‘um’ were not inclusive to that category. “Maybe I should leave you alone now.”

The longer the silence between them seemed to stretch on, the more he could feel an uncharacteristic nervousness settling in. uh oh that wasn’t good. Frowning slightly he automatically reached for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. He needed a smoke. Pulling one from the pack, and securing it between his lips, the man reached for his lighter, and began the rather tedious task of trying to light the cigarette in the wind. One try, a second, and then a third- it was windier than he’d expected. Grumbling internally, Leifr looked up at the woman across from him. She looked cold, and he was almost tempted to throw his sweatshirt back at her, one just to see the look on her face, and two, because she was cold. But he stopped himself, reminding himself that that very gesture was what had gotten them into this predicament in the first place.

Frowning again, the ex Gryffindor turned his attention back to his cigarette. She was obviously cold, but she was also obviously determined not to be the one talking. Just fabulous. What in Merlin’s name was going on? This whole situation was more bizarre than anything he could recall within recent memory. Piece of shite it was too windy to light his cigarette, and he was reaching a point of frustration he didn’t want to have to deal with at the moment. The whole point behind the stick of rolled tobacco currently pressed between his lips was to reduce the stress, not make it worse. To add to the seemingly barely contained chaos that wasn’t he’d been so focused on his cigarette he almost missed what Emily had said. Correction, he’d missed most of it for sure, as her words were stolen by the wind, besides, she was smiling at him. Smiling that was unexpected. Raising an eyebrow and trying to keep his scowl of frustration with the weather off of his face he couldn’t help but chuckle a little, and he felt a corner of his mouth tug upwards “What? Am I not allowed to have ‘favorites’?” How had they gone from prolonged awkward silence to this? He really wasn’t sure.

One thing he was sure of was that he wanted that damned cigarette. He could see she was making noises about going and leaving him alone, he ignored those, turned on his heel and gestured for her to follow. It was too windy to stand outside any longer, and he didn’t feel like trying to raise his voice or explain himself again, so instead, he simply avoided the whole issue. She might have thrown him off balance in some ways, but he was fairly sure she’d follow him- he had her attention enough for that, he figured. Lengthening his stride to reach the pub a little faster, Leifr looked back over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t far behind. The idea that she wouldn’t follow him didn’t really even cross his mind.

It wasn’t long before he found himself at the doors of what he practically considered his pub, being that Barclay, the owner seemed to trust him with running the place, even in his absence. Flicking his wand casually, Leifr tugged easily on the handle of the door in front of him, after entering himself, he held it open for Emily. He hadn’t bothered to look back more than that once, but he was still feeling confident. The pub was warm if nothing else. Walking father into the place, he took his normal spot, when he wasn’t working, and sat up on the bar. After Emily had made her way inside, the wizard pulled a lighter from his pocket and quickly lit the cigarette, taking a deep pull as he gestured to the bar and offered her a drink “If you want something, just let me know. Otherwise make yourself comfortable.” He wasn’t sure how this was going to make the situation any better. At this point, he wasn’t sure of much. Taking another long pull, and exhaling Leifr summoned himself a glass and a tumbler of Ogdens. He was still all for doing what he wanted, regardless of the company he was in.

His frustration was pretty obvious -- lighting a cigarette in the wind tended to be difficult, at least, from what she’d observed and heard from other people. Emily had tried a cigarette a few times and didn’t particularly care for them, but she saw their appeal. There was an appeal in everything everyone was addicted to, initially, anyway -- if there was no appeal, they wouldn’t have become so attached to whatever it was in the first place. His slight scowl, even from this distance, could be seen and Em was aware that he wasn’t in the mood to be patient. Tense situations tended to make people uneasy, which in turn lead to them resorting to whatever the easiest option happened to be. At least after she’d said something about the sweatshirt being one of his favorites, he smiled a little. That wasn’t all that bad... but why was she caring about how he was feeling? Emily didn’t generally heed others’ emotions much and only cared that she avoid telling them about herself at all costs, but this felt different. The tug she felt in her stomach made her uncomfortable, but she replied to his playful question as though she was completely collected. “I didn’t say that. I just meant that it was probably good I returned it to you for that reason.”

He had completely ignored everything she’d said about leaving, and she half expected him to turn and go back home without another word. She was a little taken when he gestured for her to follow with his hand, and Emily couldn’t stop the puzzled look that crossed her pretty features afterwards. Hesitating slightly, Em’s mind was asking a billion different questions that she could only answer so fast, if at all. After the initial slow step, she quickened her pace to catch up and followed him back into the pub. A flood of images and a rush of warm air ambushed her senses when she looked around again, actually noticing what the building looked like this time around instead of what she’d happened upon earlier. She shook her head gently to clear her conscious thoughts of the heated situation she’d accidentally witnessed before and tried to focus on what Leifr was saying.

As was expected, he took a lighter out and lit the cigarette. Gulping, she felt immensely awkward and still couldn’t bring herself to speak. It was so terribly unlike her to not know how to talk to someone -- usually she could read people like books, and it was making her edgy to know that she couldn’t read him as easily. The twenty one year old liked knowing everything that she could possibly know, and when she didn’t, feelings of inadequacy ensued. Sauntering forward, she sat a couple of stools away from him on the bar instead of right next to him. She didn’t want to be close enough for him to see any minuscule body language and anyway, she wanted space. It was difficult enough being this close in proximity to him without looking at him and trying to memorize his handsome features. Did she want something to drink? Yes.

Emily didn’t drink often and, quite frankly, had an almost pathetically low tolerance for the stuff. Neither of her parents had indulged in alcohol all that often -- champagne at parties or wine at dinner, yes, and  the occasional glass of scotch on her father’s desk, but nothing else. “If it’s not too much trouble, just make me something with vodka in it.” It was his pub, wasn’t it? He knew what was good, what he had, and she was too distracted to think of anything complex to order at that moment in time. The dark-haired witch wasn’t entirely a fan of the taste of hard liquor, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t drink it, especially in such a happenstance as this one. Vodka had the best taste in her opinion, and as long as it was something that let her not think so much, she figured she would be in pretty good shape.

Em had been so busy thinking about everything happening at specific moments that she hadn’t thought about it from a situational or futuristic perspective at all, which she was beginning to touch on in her head. Why was she here? Why did he even want her here? None of this made any sense at all. Debating whether to ask the question, she chewed on her lip frustratedly, her brow furrowed softly. What was she to say that didn’t make her sound demanding or desperate, and why did she care how she sounded? It was so uncharacteristic and childlike of Emily to have to ask herself such questions. Tilting her head and looking at him sideways, she went ahead and blurted out a string of sounds that had conveniently formed themselves into words without her permission. “Why am I even here? I gave you the sweatshirt back, which was what you said you’d wanted... unless I read that wrong?” She ended it with a question mark, which was also irritating. It was almost as though she was asking for permission to say it at all.

As he sat there with his glass of Ogdens and his cigarette he swore one of them could have pulled out a knife and cut it with a knife. What in Merlin’s name was he doing? What was she doing? Why had he invited her here? Ugh. He hated trying to consider all the possibilities. To take his mind off of his own inner musings, Leifr chanced a glance at his guest. One thing was clear, she wanted space, her body language was practically screaming ‘stay away, far away’. Which was fine by him. He’d invited Emily back into the pub because it was windy, and they had been sort of talking? For whatever the reason, they had both ended up back inside. The ex Gryffindor was about ready to crawl out of his skin out of boredom and anxiety when Emily finally picked what she wanted to drink.

Vodka hmm? This made the man chuckle lightly, and eye her lightly as he slipped over to the other side of the bar, and began pulling together the ingredients “I’m surprised you’re letting me mix you anything, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while..” Now the real question was, what to make her? There weren’t many drinks that were meant for sipping. You had short lived drinks like the White Russian, or a lemon drop, and he was hesitant to make her a long island, because those tended to get people drunk fast. And that was not something he was trying to do, but it was one of the best drinks for just sitting and drinking. There was sex on the beach, a ruby relaxer, a blue lagoon, the list was really endless, he just had to pick something. Normally Leifr was a fairly decisive person, he knew what he wanted, but he was having trouble picking a drink, and he was a bartender. It made him feel like an idiot, but he knew he had to choose, and in the end he settled on a blue lagoon. It was easy, and it had vodka in it.

That was the one guaranteed perk of being a bartender, he could mix almost any drink without thinking about it for more than a few seconds, and it was rare that requests were hard to fill. Finishing the drink quickly, he set it up on the bar top, and gently slid it down towards Emily “It’s called a Blue Lagoon” damn. He wished the place was still open, he desperately wanted to keep busy, his hands itched to keep moving, to keep his mind from pondering the same questions over and over again. Bloody hell. Reaching for his cigarette, he was sorely disappointed to find that it’d burnt all the way down to the filter. Grumbling ever so slightly under his breath, the wizard reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a new cigarette to light, leaving it loosely tucked between his lips, just at the corner of his mouth. He had been so anxious to keep busy that he hadn’t even realized he’d finished wiping down the bar while he’d been contemplating this whole damned situation.

Sighing softly, Leifr easily and quietly vaulted over the bar top, settling himself back in his old spot. Shooting another glance in Emily’s direction he couldn’t help but ask the famous question “Is it to your liking?” his pride was too strong not to ask, he had to know whether or not he was making good drinks, it was his job, after all. While he waited for an answer there were a few nice moments of drag and sip, drag and sip. It was slightly less awkward, until he noticed that the witch had cocked her head and asked him something, but why had she said it as a question? It almost made her sound uncertain of herself, hmm. Shrugging that thought off, he turned his attention to something much more important. A very daunting something. Leifr nearly choked on his sip of Ogdens, narrowly avoiding doing so, and before answering he eyed her quietly for a few moments.

Why did he want her here? Did he really want her here, or was he just being polite? He really wasn’t sure. Part of him had some deeper reason for wanting her there, but he wasn’t about to open that can of worms. Fuck. He had to answer. There was no avoiding it, but what to say? He was almost certain that he wouldn’t be able to say anything at all, and then his mouth was moving “ Uh, I suppose your here because it’s cold and unpleasant outside, and we were having a conversation. So, instead of leaving you out there, I invited you back here. And you were right about the sweatshirt thing, I wanted it back.” Merlin he sounded like a girl. He felt like the worlds biggest fool, but that was what he could tell her, thats all he knew, no matter how stupid it sounded.

Yeah, well, he wasn’t alone there. She was surprised she was letting him mix her anything, too, but she’d been watching him this whole time and unless he had some special roofies bottle that he pulled out for special occasions, her eyes hadn’t caught sight of him slipping anything into any of the different-colored liquors. I’m sure, the young woman thought. It’s sort of your job to get idiotic girls like me drunk and then do whatever. Her green eyes shifted and flicked as his able hands moved over the utensils of sorts, and then in what seemed like a matter of seconds, he was already done. Emily’s long fingers caught the glass with ease, and she clutched it tighter than was probably necessary. Why in the hell was she still so nervous? Oh well. That was what the vodka was for. It was certainly very... blue. Lived up to its namesake, she observed. Nodding in his direction, she attempted a smile, and it probably came out insincere and wry. Lovely. Emily lifted the sweating glass to her lips and sipped delicately for a moment, and then instinctively set it back down on the bar when the man swung his legs over the top of the counter and sat back on his stool.

“Yes, it’s very good, thank you.” And it was. Even if it wasn’t, Em doubted that she would have felt secure enough to say otherwise just yet, but even still, at least it was true. As her attractive companion of sorts seemed to inwardly squabble with himself, Emily continued sipping, conscious of the fact that this was all probably a very horrible, horrible idea. She wasn’t exactly sure what ‘this’ was, but it was enough to put her on edge. The drink, however, was helping with that. Some of the tension in her shoulders was dissipating and her eyelids felt less unnaturally wide open. Quirking an eyebrow, the slender witch rotated in her stool to face him. Conversation?

“Conversation?” Her mouth echoed her thoughts, and she tried not to scoff aloud at his attempt to answer her deep-seated question. She couldn’t blame the guy for floundering about as he was, because she wasn’t doing any better in terms of that, but really? If she did say so, it seemed more like he was trying to cover his ass for snogging the blonde bombshell or whatever she was, not have an honest-to-Merlin conversation with her. “I ah, wasn’t aware that’s what it was. But thanks for informing me.” She commented, almost brashly, and took a slightly larger gulp of the drink. Shit. Em looked down at the glass warming up in her hand, and she was almost done with this one. Sadly, she wasn’t inclined to say no to another. Not when the words were coming out so easy like this.

“But anyway. Thanks for inviting me in. It is much better in here in terms of climate.” The smile she gave him next was a little warmer. Why the fuck was she warming up to this guy so quickly? She had a boyfriend, and he would kill her if he found out about this little escapade. He was definitely the jealous type, and things could get messy when he wasn’t pleased with some of the things she did. It didn’t happen often, because Emily wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, but when it did, she always regretted it for that reason if for nothing else.

“You got it back, didn’t you?” Em questioned abruptly, setting her glass down on the wooden bar with a loud clack to signify that she was done with it. The twenty-one year old licked her lips, trying to be sure to remove any traces of blue that were still there. She’d probably have a blue tongue, which was kind of embarrassing, but it was what it was. “I figured it might have been a little rude to just.. not give it back.”  Well, there was that, and there was also the possibility that John might’ve found it in her closet. And if he’d known she’d slept in it and nothing else but her underwear, that most certainly would have risen conflict.

So, she liked his drink, that was a plus, though he couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth or not. Normally, the man assumed everyone liked his drinks. This was mostly because he’d had very few complaints over the years that he’d been making drinks, and so it was an easy conclusion for the man to reach. Either way, if he was honest with himself, whether or not she liked the drink didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, whatever this thing was. His head hurt just thinking about it all, and he hated that he couldn’t make sense out of it all, he was never one to let a situation best him. He was in the Order for Merlin’s sake. He should be able to handle one woman, and the internal grief she was causing him. But instead it was like he was facing a boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts again. It was driving him mad, and at this point all he could hope for was her not being able to notice his slowly disappearing sanity. Which didn’t seem likely with the way she was taking his mention of a conversation, it was going to be an interesting night.

He loved women, he did, he really did. But sometimes they drove him crazy. Shooting her a look when she seemed unhappy with his answer of conversation, he tried to keep it from being too dirty, but he was fairly sure that hadn’t worked either. He knew he wasn’t doing so well in the explanation category, but he didn’t need, or want, her reminding him of that and rubbing it in his face, it was already plain enough for him to see it. Almost begrudgingly he replied to her retort “You’re welcome” He paused, noticing her glass, and nodded slightly, to indicate he was talking about her drink “Another?” He didn’t really care if she said yes to another or not, he already cared far too much about this whole thing for his taste.

The witches next few words had him back on his heels, she was being civil all of a sudden, was she that much of a lightweight? He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t really be all that surprised if she was. He gave her a semi quizzical look and nodded his acknowledgement of her thanks, he didn’t really trust himself to speak anymore at this point. Everything was backwards, he was supposed to be in charge of the situation, be the charmer, the ever capable bartender. Instead, he was sitting there like a ninny, trying to figure out what to say next. He couldn’t recall a situation in which something like this had happened, particularly with a girl since his time back at Hogwarts, and that was saying something. The frustration he was feeling was gnawing him through, from the inside out. It wasn’t irritation at the witch in his company, it was with himself, and his inability to figure out how to handle the situation and get himself out of it.

The clack of the glass on the bar only served to put his nerves on edge even more. So much so that he had to resist reaching for his wand, and looking for a Death Eater. He hadn’t had the feeling in at least a few months, he’d been getting those lovely side effects under control, or at least he thought he had. Unclenching his jaw, which he hadn’t even noticed he’d done, he responded, trying to keep his tone even to hide his nerviness “I did, and I thanked you for it too, didn’t I?” Two could play this game, that was for sure. He pulled out another cigarette, and placed it between his lips before lighting it, he needed another if the night was going to be continuing like this. He raised an eyebrow at Emily’s next comment, and nodded a few times in agreement “It would have, and I appreciate your effort.” Taking a long drink to give himself something to shut his mouth with, the wizard kicked himself internally for what felt like the umpteenth time, he was definitely making this much harder on himself than need be, if he could stop caring, it would be so much easier.  He just wasn’t so sure how long this could go on without her noticing his increasing frustrations. 

Emily wasn’t sure if she was misinterpreting her companion’s body language or not, but it was hard to tell whether he was gaining anything from this or whether he was simply trudging through the encounter to be polite only to never want to see her or talk to her ever again. Not that that should have mattered to her, because she had no business being here. Not when she had business elsewhere. Business that would be beyond angry with her if she hinted at this happening at all. All of these feelings that were surfacing on their own without her consent and in such an uninhibited manner had to have everything to do with the alcohol she’d been drinking and nothing with her or her thought process. Not at all. She couldn’t let herself think that, anyway, or things would just get worse. Harder to control, even, which Emily really wasn’t fond of. She liked things being logical and calm and supervised, not willy-nilly and spontaneous and senseless. The Ravenclaw didn’t know why she seemed to always get into situations with Gryffindor men, anyway. She couldn’t stand half the things they did, but she supposed that was part of the allure.

His dirty look made her smirk a little bit and she licked her lips again to stifle the laugh threatening to come out. More questions from him weren’t something she was currently welcoming or wanted to answer, not even in her already semi-intoxicated state. The brunette was getting less offended as things went along and more amused, which could tip the scales either direction, but she supposed she’d find out as time passed and the alcohol rewired her brain. “I think another one might not be such a bad idea.” Shrugging slightly, she flicked her green eyes from the glass to his face and then back to her hands, which were fiddling with each other in her lap. The fingernail picking was a habit she’d never really managed to get past.

He seemed tense, uncomfortable, even. Emily wasn’t sure how to fix that, if it was her place to fix it, or even if she wanted to. Maybe he deserved it for subjecting her to what he had, even if it had been half involuntary on his part. Mostly not, though, for forgetting to lock up his establishment like any normal person would have done. She was a little surprised when he unclenched his jaw, another sign of his tension that had been jumping around on his face for the past few minutes as he probably stewed internally about how to get rid of her or whatever it was he was thinking about in that attractive head of his. Emily gnawed on her bottom lip some more, wondering why she sat there still when she knew it was going to bite her in the ass, when she knew that it wouldn’t turn out well for her, one way or another. She supposed the answer might reveal itself by the end of the night if they kept drinking like this.

“Sure, sure, you did. And it’s no problem, really. Wouldn’t have been worth the guilt of not returning someone else’s possession, you know.” Frowning at her own comment, she fidgeted in her seat again, listening to the material squeak a little bit underneath her. The sweatshirt that he had back in his possession now, she’d slept in that, smelled it, thought about him doing those things. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t normal, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill, and she needed to find out what was going on.

“I wanted to ask if you’re okay over there. You look like you’ve tasted something bitter.” She said, her voice a little softer than normal, though she wasn’t incredibly sharp or loud with her speech to begin with. Maybe she could get to apparating home a little quicker and not have to worry about what she looked like while she thought about this, anyway, instead of trying to keep composed in front of him, if she could find out some semblance of what the problem was. He probably just didn’t like her, or found her bothersome, as they’d discussed in their last meeting, but her willingness to keep up the facade was sort of deteriorating by the minute.

So, she did want another, that was fine with him, although he was starting to doubt whether or not it was a good idea or not on the whole. Not that he would ever deny her, being that it was entirely her choice, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to deal with the aftermath. But that still wasn’t enough of a reason to decline when he’d been the one to offer in the first place, so with a slight nod to acknowledge that he’d heard her, he set down his drink and cigarette before easily lifting himself back over the bar. All the while going about making her drink with the same ease that he’d used with the first one. Once it was finished, he deftly removed the empty glass, and replaced it with the new one, before perching up on the bar once again. She still seemed nervous, but she hadn’t watched him like a hawk this time when he’d made her the drink, and he figured that had to be worth something, didn’t it? Speaking of second drinks, he needed another as well, even though he’d just poured himself a new one. Getting drunk was the last thing on the wizards mind, it happened so rarely that it hardly ever concerned him. With this in mind, he easily took down what remained in the glass before filling it up yet again. Ogden’s was his vice, and tonight he was thankful for it, beyond question.

Setting down his glass, he took a drag from his cigarette, enjoying the buzz that seemed to take the edge off of his nerves, Merlin knew he’d need all the help he could get with that tonight. Especially when she was watching him like that, although he was fairly sure she didn’t realize that he had caught on to that fact, and he wasn’t going to embarrass her by pointing it out just yet, he was curious to see what she might do next. Not to mention the way the woman was gnawing on her lip was far more distracting than he would have liked it to be at the moment. There were already too many thoughts swirling around in his head for any more to be crammed in, especially the thoughts that the particular action was bringing to mind. His own uneasiness was driving him mad, and he found himself taking another drag from his cigarette, desperate for some kind of relief. This time though, he let himself blow a few smoke rings up at the ceiling, watching them float up, and eventually dissipate. When Emily started speaking again, he let his eyes flicker over to her momentarily, before keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his eye, which was less distracting than looking at her directly.

He found himself humming an agreement to her comment about guilt, it was sort of true, he supposed. Although it was rare that he ever let himself feel guilty about anything these days, particularly when it wasn’t friend or family related, he simply couldn’t bring himself to want to dedicate time to it. Part of surviving the war in the way he did, he supposed, but he’d always considered himself a warrior in a way, and consequences like those were the ones he should be willing to pay, at least it seemed that way. He looked at her this time while he spoke, fiddling with his glass as he spoke “Guilt is rarely ever worth it, I find” For whatever reason, his brain had thought that that was an appropriate response, and to him, it just sounded stupid. Her next question had him wanting to put up his defenses and call it quits. Leifr was by no means the type to share with others, especially not when it came to people he’d just met. What had thrown him was her tone of voice, it was softer, different, and he wasn’t sure he trusted it. Finishing his cigarette the ex Gryffindor gave himself a few extra moments to figure out how to respond without raising her suspicions. So, he went with the next best thing besides the truth, the partial truth. Raising his eyebrows as he exhaled, the wizard tried for slightly surprised, and perfectly fine, though he wasn’t sure he’d succeeded, as it was fairly late, and he was tired, which never did bode well for him. But he decided to give it his best shot anyway, denial was always possible. Smiling at her a little, hoping it’d be taken well, he finally responded “Hmm? Bitter? Not at all, just got to thinking about some rather frustrating things, but I’m doing just fine.” He shrugged and was fairly sure she wouldn’t buy it,but it had been worth a shot, and had earned him another shot of his own, which he gladly took once he’d said all he had to say.     

He didn’t waste a lot of time hopping back over the bar to make her drink. Emily was well aware that that was part of his job, but she wasn’t paying for these, at least, not as far as she knew. It was kind of him to let her have more than one on the house. On him, really. The buzz she had going was making her a little bit less tense and it was easier to think about things without putting herself on edge, but she had to be careful not to drink too much. Splinching was not on the agenda tonight. Steadying herself with one hand on the bar, the other reached over to grab the now full glass that had been replaced by the empty one.

She raised an eyebrow while she watched the wizard gulp down the rest of his drink and then saw more of the golden brownish liquid being poured into his glass again. It was, apparently, laughable how low her tolerance for the stuff actually was. Well, maybe it was that, or maybe he just had a really high tolerance. Her thoughts were too jumbly and slurred for her to articulate anything else that made some kind of sense. Biting lightly on her lip again, Emily smiled a little bit at his smoke rings. Whether they were supposed to be amusing or not was a mystery to her, but they had been anyway.

Raising her glass to her slightly swollen lips, Emily felt the thick glass clink against her front teeth and exclaimed quietly, “Ow! Shit.” She’d always had bigger teeth in the front than most people, and it was kind of a normal thing for things to ding her teeth like that, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing each time it happened. Especially not in front of attractive strangers. She could feel his eyes on her, which made her feel kind of exposed, but she couldn’t be bothered to come up with an excuse to leave in that moment. She was too tipsy and too curious to not poke into his mind a little further to see what he was really thinking about.

She didn’t think highly enough of herself to assume that she was what, or, she supposed, who, he was thinking about, but the tug in her stomach let her know that she kind of wanted to be. Another little red flag went up. Danger, Em. You shouldn’t be thinking like that. John would be upset. Pause, another slow breath, and she rubbed her teeth tenderly, set her glass down. “Mm, sorry. You’ll have to ignore me for a second. That happens sometimes.” The brunette shrugged slightly, looking over at him for another split second. He was so… handsome. That was the only word she could think of that summed everything about him up.

Emily realized how ridiculous this was, that she had googly eyes over the bartender and she didn’t even really know him, but she supposed that she was kind of a one-time decider with these sorts of things. Take her current relationship as a testament to that statement. Tch.

He looked mildly surprised at her question.  Em wasn’t sure whether he was feigning his indifference or not, but she was sure that her senses, however blurred they were, could guide her there. Furrowing her brows into a frown, Emily shook her head at him and turned in her stool to face him, drink virtually forgotten. “No, you’re not. Something’s bugging you.” Another pause and she was talking again, this time a little bit louder and more firm, which exponentially surprised her. “What frustrating things, hmm?”

He watched as she managed to bump her teeth against the edge of her glass, and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her clumsiness. He had a tendency to forget that not everyone he knew had such a high tolerance for alcohol as he did. When she apologized he shrugged, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it as long as she was alright “It‘s fine. You okay?” The question was a genuine one, and he wasn’t just asking to look as though he cared, though whether she saw it that was out of his hands. The woman in front of him was going to think what she wanted of him, no matter what he did in the end. Leifr wasn’t sure why Emily kept stealing little glances at him, they were talking, if she wanted to look at him, then she had the perfect excuse to do so. But everyone was a little different.

The moment that she furrowed her brow, shook her head, and turned towards him, Leifr knew something had changed, and he wasn’t so sure he liked the direction things were headed in. When she finally spoke, he knew he didn’t. He didn’t want to do this now. He didn’t want to confront whatever it was he was feeling for her with her. No way. A frown of his own settled on his face and he looked at her for a few moments while she paused before continuing, further pushing him back into a corner she didn’t know was there. Not wanting to do or say anything that might make her suspicious or hurt her feelings, the wizard took his time, doing his best to think about before speaking, which included finishing off his Ogdens. Finally, he looked up at his company, right in the face, not breaking eye contact “ If I said I’m fine. I really am fine.” He knew it sounded insensitive and dismissive, but he wasn’t sure he could handle going there with her at that very moment. He realized then that he still hadn’t answered her second question.

Cursing Merlin internally Leifr fiddled with his glass absentmindedly as he tried to come up with something far from the truth but that could pass as the truth. Finishing his cigarette in one long pull, Leifr exhaled away from Emily and turned back to face her, his frown having deepened, and this time he was struggling to look her in the face, but eventually he made himself do it “Things you wouldn’t understand. Things I can’t explain” He knew that all of the things he’d just said were complete and total BS, but he was at least hoping she would get the hint and drop it. He didn’t want to do this, but something told him that the witch in front of him wasn’t going to give up so easily. Which meant he was going to need more alcohol. At this point, it didn‘t matter what it was.