[grimli] told you that i'm in it for the long haul [malachi]

Ella had been back in London for a grand total of fourteen hours, and after waiting at Malachi's apartment alone for an hour, an idea came to her and sent her running back out, locking the door behind herself.

Grimli.

If Malachi had nothing better to do on a Saturday night, he ended up at Grimli. She wasn't sure if he'd be fighting, spectating, or there at all, but as soon as she exited the building, it was towards Knockturn Alley. She could apparate here, couldn't she?

SNAP.

Taking a moment to refamiliarize herself with her surroundings, Ella took her wand out of her pocket and headed in the direction of the shop in Knockturn Alley, turned sick, freakish fight club. She could see the boyish thrill, could see why women liked hanging out there, but blood and gore made Ella feel faint. How people could wail on each other like that... If she did find Malachi Lancaster in the basement, she would make it her mission to convince him to go get dinner with her instead.

Ella loved surprises. She remembered how it felt to see Malachi sitting at Tracey's dining room table, when minutes before she wasn't sure if he was even still breathing and moving. She loved buying gifts for no reason, and her generous nature had her glowing with excitement as she approached her destination and entered. Little did she know, she was in for a surprise, too. She didn't like surprises like this.

The bright lights had Malachi illuminated, sweaty, bloodied (was it his blood?), and instead of moving at a normal pace, Ella started pushing through bodies to get to the edge of the ring, ignoring the swearing of a man who "had a lot of money riding on that kid!" Fuck him, fuck his money, fuck this place. When she reached the edge of the crowd, she stared up at him, so focused on his opponent, and she couldn't wait to scold him for this. He could die doing this. She just wanted him to get out of the ring in one piece, conscious, his face intact...

@Malachi Lancaster

There was freedom involved in this type of fighting, a type of freedom that he rarely found outside of the bedroom. It was viseceral and instinctive, every swing or hit making his heart pump so loud he could barely hear the roar of the crowd. He licked his lips, tasting the light mix of blood and sweat and danced back from his opponent, sending him a smug smile. They’d been going tit for tat the whole time, and it was like a dance. The fight was almost over, and they were neck in neck. Swinging, Malachi landed a couple of body shots to the other man’s torso before dancing back, laughing low.

All the hurts Malachi had, he didn’t feel. Sure the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead got into his vision and he had to wipe it away, but it didn’t actually hurt. Nor did his split lip or bruised torso. He’d been so tense from the long months away, working in jobs that had him going to other countries to stand there and be a visible deterrent, to hauling rich girls around the Ministry like a glorified tour guide. He’d needed this bout at Grimli like some people needed a confession, and it was giving him just what he needed. He felt cleansed, relieved. All he had to do was win and he could go home and stand in his shower, letting the burning hot water wash his sins away.

He and his opponent had broken apart, and Malachi’s eyes were glittering in the other’s mans direction. An unholy glee filled those deep brown eyes, dancing above the wide grin. Malachi was about to talk shit in his direction, and had prepped his mouth to do so, when he saw a commotion. He’d just planned to turn his eye slightly in the direction, but when he saw the reason WHY it made him freeze. He stared at Ella, his mouth opened wide. Ella? ELLA ELLA  ELLA ELLA EL? Ella….?? He made a step towards her, and a fist impacted his jaw. Head swinging around, he whipped in the ring, off balance. He danced around, trying to grasp at air to regain balance, all the while still focused in that direction.

The pain got his attention at least, and after he regained his balance by leaning against the ropes, he gave Ella this delicious, devious smirk, turning back to his opponent. Low laughter rang, and Malachi looked at the guy. “Fuck you.” He said, almost sweetly, before his body flew forward. His hand and legs moved like blurs, and he hit with focus that he’d only had in small spurts before. He now had a purpose, a target to reach, and nothing was going to stop him. Huge hands slammed over and over again into the man’s face, and he watched him fall and not get up, and he laughed as he danced around his body, watching for the official to declare the other man out. It took a few minutes, but Malachi was declared the winner, the gold placed in his hand, and he was out of the ring in a flash.

Long legs flew as he jumped out of the ring, took two steps, and his arms were wrapped around Ella. One hand wrapped her legs around his waist, sliding down to support her butt as he pressed her against the side of the pillar. Malachi’s face burrowed into her neck and he shook, a combination of relief and pain as he hugged her as tight as he could. Ella had been gone so long, that he’d forgotten how it was to live properly. It was like a limb had been missing, and he could feel twinges, but it was a phantom pain. Now she was here and everything hurt properly again. He hugged her tightly, and groaned her name against her skin, not knowing how to keep close so she’d never leave him alone again,

She could see sweat dripping off of his shoulders, soaked into the shirt-thing he was wearing, as he danced around his opponent. She flinched every time the other man swung. Sometimes Kai wasn't quick enough to dodge. She hated this, hated watching her best friend get beat up as a form of entertainment. Of course, Malachi was certainly holding his own in there. He looked a little tired maybe.

Every time he faced her, her heart raced. She stood on the tips of her toes, hugging her arms closer to her, and it wasn't long before their eyes connected and Ella knew that he saw her. Her face spread into a grin and before either of them knew it, a blow came from the right side. "Shit!" She covered her mouth with her hand, knowing that had to have hurt. She inched forward without realizing it, wanting to run up there and take him home right now. This was no way to have fun.

But his eyes were in her direction again, and the smirk he gave her showed that her baby was just fine. He went in.

Ella didn't realize that she was cheering until Malachi came down and knocked her right off her feet. He hardly had time to accept the award before he was off the stage and heading right for Ella's open arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hooked her ankles together behind his back. Part laughing, part crying, completely breathless, Ella petted the back of his head lovingly, returning the ferocity of his embrace, the excitement flowing from her heart and making the tips of her fingers tingle. She wasn't conscious of what the crowd had done around them, but it was gone from her mind.

She cupped his face with both hands and coaxed his face away from her neck, electrified adoration clear on her face as she looked him over. "Hey." She cooed, brushing her thumb across his cheek bone. "Hey, baby, you good?" She laughed, and continued her quick examination. The blood was gross, but his face looked just the same as she had remembered, even if sometimes she felt herself forgetting what he looked like. How could she?

Kai just gripped her tighter as he pressed her against the pillar. His muscles were spasming, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t focus on the pain. El was here, and he felt like he was hallucinating. Were they in France? Was she a figment of his imagination? He didn’t care. It was what he needed, wanted right now. His heart was still thrumming with exhilaration, and he took a few deep breaths just to calm down. He was reluctant to look up when he felt hands tug his face towards her, but he did.

His right eye was swollen, and there was a cut right above it. He blinked, swallowing thickly. All of a sudden, as he stared into her eyes, he was dizzy. Shifting her in his arms, he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. Her touch was soothing, something to keep him stapled to reality, when all he felt like was flying off into the air. Kai heard her voice, and it took him a minute to process, but he licked his lips and stared at her for a moment.

“I’m…fine.” He was dizzy and in pain, but he was fine. Ella was here, so he was perfect. He sat her down on her feet and began to drag her to a back hallway. When he pushed open the door and lead them in, it was silent. Kai stared at her from a far, examining her. She was alive. She was healthy. She was here. And as mad as he wanted to be at her, she was here, and he was okay. He would be okay. “I need…food?” He laughed, almost hysterically

“Not french. Fuck France.” And that was all he said, before he pushed her against the wall again, and his cheek pressed against hers. He was shaking again, and his hand slammed into the wall above her head when a particularly hard spasm ran through his back. “Fuck. Sorry baby…” He cooed into her ear, hand curling into a fist. “…I hurt a little bit, maybe…” He conceded.

This certainly wasn't the kind of "hello" Ella was expecting, and with Malachi's arms wrapped around her tightly, she felt the pain seeping from his pores. There was pain in the way he buried his face in her neck, in his breath against her chest, there was pain in his muttering of her name. Even when he rested his forehead against hers and made her blood thump in her ears, she knew he wasn't good. It was the adrenaline, and she had shocked him, and all of this was normal, but instinct caused her concern. She ran her thumb across his cheek again, hoping the sensation would help him come back down to Earth with her.

His eye was going to bruise, and a simple treatment at St. Mungo's would take care of the rest. Her eyes darted around his face as he responded to her, and she couldn't stop herself from laughing. Still the most stubborn man she'd ever met. He was trembling and his eyes were wild.

Ella hadn't looked at anyone else in the room, and all of the whistling and cat calling going on around her made her knees weak as she tried to stand again. Ella knew how it looked, and with a nervous laugh, she took his hand and followed him down a hallway until she almost couldn't hear the people back in that makeshift Arena. She felt his eyes on her immediately, but it wasn't as scary as the eyes of all those people. She looked down at her shoes, allowing the silence to flood their brains and let him breath a little.

"Let's get food." She spoke softly, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. When she looked up again, to laugh awkwardly at his bitterness towards France, she saw that they were almost chest to chest again. She stumbled back against the wall, her hands moving to his waist to steady herself. His hand slapping against the wall made her jump reflexively, but she knew he didn't mean it. His speech was pained against her ear.

"It's okay," She whispered, moving her hands to his broad back. She ran her open palms over the fabric of his shirt, hoping it might soothe him. "We'll fix you up."

It took him a minute but she was shaken out of his zoned state, and blinked slowly at Ella. It took him a minute to actually see her, and not be so caught up on her being there. He licked his lips again and looked her over. She looked the same. Nothing was really different, and he reveled in that constant. He felt like a fucking dumbass running over to a girl who’d already left him once before, but he’d been so adrift without her.

He began to move, but stopped, anxiety filling his body. What if he moved away and she left? What if she was a figment of his imagination. His grip tightened on her waist for a moment before be grudgingly pulled away, still staring down at her. He could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, throwing this tribal beat of anxiety and fear dancing through his veins. Malachi was antsy, shifting from foot to foot.

“…I’m going to find a towel…” He had his mouth opened as if he was going to finish the sentence, and he had been with ’Don’t leave me’. Pride was his number one enemy, and he’d be damned if he’d bare the part of him that he feared the most right now. His hand just hooked in hers and he guided her to the fighter area.

Before they got there, someone stepped into his path. Malachi looked upwards into squinty blue eyes, his brow arched. “What?” He asked calmly, muscles tensing. This was the guy who was upset about him canceling their scheduled fight, even thought Malachi had been on duty out of the country for that date. He’d been sending shots at Malachi every time the man was in the club, and Malachi was getting tired of it. The Swede began to talk, and red began to seep into Malachi’s vision.

’I see you’re available to get some from your dirty little slut, but cant fight like a real man. But of course you aren’t a real man, and your slut's been spreading it for the rest of the crew.

Malachi turned to Ella and quirked his eyebrow in the closest approximation of an apology he was going to offer, before letting go of her hand. He let his hands do the talking, and two body shots and a slam of his right fist into the other man’s jaw dropped him down to the ground. Malachi used his knee to pin the taller man to the ground, and held his face in place with his hand. “Don’t talk to her like that…” He began, almost as if they were having a conversation about the weather with as conversational his tone was. “Go schedule something, and I’ll thrash your as up and down this room, but leave me and mines the FUCK alone until then.”

Slamming the man’s head into the ground for emphasis, Malachi stood and grabbed Ella’s hand. He grabbed a towel and walked towards the floo and dragged her against him as they floo’d to the public floo in the Leaky Cauldron. He guided her to muggle London, and to their favourite restaurant. It was silent on his end, until they were at the table with waters sat in front of them, the waitress leaving them to look over the menu. He stared at Ella while he wiped his face, before leaning on his hand.

“Luckily they know me…us here, or they’d have a problem now. What are you getting for me, Ella?” He asked, amused. “I don’t want to look, and my eye kind of hurts.” Licking his lips, Malachi leaned back against the both, his long legs stretched so they were tangled within hers. Not pulling any punches, he just asked. “I thought you were going to hide in France forever. Why are you back? Why didn’t you floo or call me?”

Releasing the breath she'd been holding in, Ella kept her eyes level when he stepped back and away from her, hesitating before looking for his eyes and expression. With her hands back down at her sides, she fidgeted when she felt his eyes on her. She knew that a bit of looking was necessary, but it didn't stop her from feeling shy and nervous under his gaze. What if he didn't like her hair like this? If he thought her clothes were strange? He looked on-edge. She wanted him to smile.

It felt like they were moving underwater - everything was slow and labored, but soon they were coming up for air, and when they were on the move with her hand holding his tight as possible, she felt like she could breathe again. He needed a towel, and she needed the safety of other people. Being alone with him had her stomach hiding somewhere behind her hammering heart.

When they stopped suddenly, Ella was two steps behind, and walked face-first into Malachi's arm. She didn't mind the sweat covering the left side of her face, too busy looking up at the tall pasty, blond in front of them. Apparently he wanted a hard time. This was why Ella didn't like this place. His lips started moving and the words stumbled across his lips so ridiculous that Ella laughed.

Surely, he wasn't talking about her... Was he talking about Gianna? Was that little bitch "spreading it"? She'd be dead.

In a cloud of misunderstanding, Ella watched the man, beer-bellied and really in need of a better wash on his breast plate, smirk at her. The eye contact they shared made her almost retch, but in the blink of an eye, Malachi took him down too... Must faster than she could keep up, Malachi grabbed her by the wrist and whisked her, quite literally, through the Floo Network before she had time to nag him for all of the violence.

She didn't feel like she'd made much landfall with the soles of her shoes on their way to where they were going, but if she had the breath to make a conversation, the topic she'd wanted to cover was missing from her mind. She'd thought of all of the things she wanted to talk about, all she wanted to ask, and all that she'd wanted to say... Even when they sat at the table, she still felt like she was spinning. When she laughed nervously, her voice was small compared to the sounds around her.

"Last time we were here, I think you got the Chicken Parmesan..." She looked over the menu, trying to stifle the urge in her gut to whine and nag him for this. "You could probably use some Iron, so a steak would be good..." She flipped through the menu, distracting herself with the content before he pulled her back out of her thoughts with a serious question. Her eyes darted up, and at first she peered at him through her eyelashes, but with a grim smile, she leaned back in her chair and faced the question head on.

"Well," She swallowed, thinking of how to answer. There were a thousand reasons why she left Paris, although there had been plenty of reasons to stay as well. She hadn't left because of Ashley, because he was never in the City of Lights anyway, but something told her that once she walked away from him, it was time to walk away from France, too.

Ella missed her friends in England, all two of them, and her family. Sometimes her French was so fluid and fast-moving that she worried she'd forget her mother tongue. She missed London and Diagon Alley. She missed her home. She missed him.

She hesitated a moment longer, letting out a twinkling laugh when she realized she was stalling too long. "I guess things just felt a bit... Stagnant..." She trailed off again, finally settling on whatever excuse she could grasp out of thin air. Sure, it was vague, but it was the best she had. He'd either leave it alone, or ask her more specific questions, and though she would greatly prefer the former, the latter would be inevitable too. She knew he'd pry everything out of her that she would willingly give up, but Ella had nothing to hide. Not from him.