[tgh] the ballad of me and my brain •• ashley

It wasn't typical behavior for Ella to hit a bar after her shift at the café, but after the day she'd had, there was nothing she needed more than a beer. Then she could face her messy apartment, and the song she needed to write, and the letters she needed to send. There was nothing slow or casual about the life she was living, where she was picking up more and more shifts to support herself and spending less time with the ones she loved. But a beer was okay. She could have a beer. She deserved it.

An off-shoulder crop top hung loosely off of her form, but her pants were perhaps just a little too tight. Her loafers were brand new, but she could already see a scuff of dust on the right side of the right shoe. Her apron draped over her left arm, she entered the Goblin Hole with a forced open-mind.

She was surprised to see that the crowd wasn't awful, and she made a bee-line for the bathroom, checking out the bar quickly on her way there and back towards the bar. There was a confident spring in her usually shuffling step, and she took her sunglasses off. It was a quiet early evening, and she wasn't sure if this place ever drew a crowd, but she was certain enough that she'd come at precisely the correct time to get a lonely beer to drink alone in a corner. At least she wasn't alone and lonely in a Paris apartment, though. She could argue that she was happier here. Sure, it complicated things, especially her career.

She hummed a tune to herself as she waited for the bartender to stop looking through her towards the other end of the building. She resisted the urge to be impatient, and instead she seated herself on one of the barstools and put her chin on the wood. "Fuck." She muttered, putting her long fingers to her chin. "Sticky..."

Ashley could feel a stiffness in his neck and shoulders, but it felt good in a weird sort of way. He liked feeling as though he'd been working hard. It made it easier for him to sleep at night, and, in that department, Ashley could use all of the help that he could get. It had been a week since his last mark, and he still wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing. The vampire was just about his age. Ashley thought that he seemed normal enough, too, save the bloodsucking. Ashley tried to remind himself of the people the boy killed, could kill in the future. He knew that he was taking out a menace, saving lives. It was still a rough burden to bear.

Since then, Ashley had been avoiding going back to the society to give his report. Instead, he'd been distracting himself with small jobs from his side business of pest control He cleaned some pixies out of a garage, de-gnomed an old woman's garden, and managed to trap and remove a particularly tricky Chameleon Ghoul from a family's home. It felt good to help people in a way that didn't hurt anyone. He was able to relocate all of the creatures to a more appropriate place, and that made him feel proud of himself. Silas would've probably been proud of him for that, too. Ashley hadn't seen much of his brother since they graduated, but had heard from his mother that Silas was planning on going into Magizoology rather than the family business. Ashley didn't know why he expected any different. Silas had always walked to the beat of his own drummer.

The pest control job was fun and relatively simple, but it often left him physically exhausted and didn't make much money at all. The sad stories he heard from the families and the extent of their gratitude was often enough to make Ashley work pro bono. He didn't think twice about giving a helping hand to those families until later one when he realized how tight his wallet really was. An extra galleon or two really helped pay the bills, especially since Ashley went through clothes and shoes at lightning speed.

He'd stopped in Diagon Ally to get a book for his uncle, but decided to stop by the bar for a drink. Ashley felt comfortable in bars, really, though he preferred those hole-in-the-wall pubs that were a bit homey and beat down. He wasn't a flashy kind of guy. He didn't look for glitz and glamor or expensive things. He just wanted a hard drink and some good company. Maybe the radio would be playing a quidditch match. Ash didn't have a team he was loyal to, but he had his favorites. Maybe he might even chat up a girl for a little. That could be a pleasant change.

Ashley hadn't even tried to date anyone since he and Ella split, and he thought that it was probably for the best. As much as he cared for Ella, he knew that he'd done her wrong. She deserved better. She deserved to be treated better than he'd treated her, but he wasn't sure he was ready to open himself up to someone again, especially not when there was so much at stake. The society he belonged to was secretive. He may never be able to really get close to anyone who wasn't a part of it ever again. Even so, Ashley missed having someone to spend his down time with. He was a romantic, at least on his best days. He wasn't meant to sleep alone every night.

The place smelled homey when Ashley entered. It was a little grimy, musty, but it was comforting. He headed towards the bar, then hesitated when he saw Ella there. Of all people, he had not expected to see her. As far as he knew, she was still living in France, still singing. What brought her here? Should he approach her?

He couldn't very well ignore her. He owed her more than that. The least he could do was approach her, say hi, and then they could part ways if she wasn't up to a chat. He took a deep breath as he walked up to the bar, cracking a light smile as she cursed. “Mm, yeah, it's probably best not to touch it more than you have to. Who knows the last time the table was given a proper wash down.” Ashley offered, taking the seat next to her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, if not a bit more. A familiar sort of attraction rose in his chest for her. It was good to see her, even if things had ended poorly.

Ella had been very affectionate at first, and the two had moved in together not long after they started seeing each other (well, as much as Ashley “moved in” anywhere). By the end of their relationship, she didn't even approach him to say goodbye. She send a note instead, and Ashley had taken that to mean she didn't want to see him. He hadn't been surprised. He hoped that, maybe, she'd cooled down some now. Maybe she even missed him a bit? He felt something for her, at the very least, though rekindling the former flame wasn't on his mind. It was just... really nice to see her again. He hoped that feeling lasted.

“How 'bout you let me buy you a drink, eh?”

Ella heard the door open and close behind her, but chose to ignore the sound rather than turn to see who had entered the bar, minding her shyness and natural inclination to keep to herself. Sometimes showing interest, even if it were really curiosity, landed her in unwanted conversation with random strangers, and she preferred to keep her eyes and head down to avoid that risk. She rarely looked at passersby, at strangers on the Metro, or acquaintances at parties. The only time she was willing to raise her eyes was on stage or when she had no other choice.

She rubbed obsessively at her chin, regretting the decision to put it on the bar in her weary cloud of thought. Work sucked, her apartment was a mess, and her music career was on pause thanks to her move back home. But more than anything, Ella was bored.

Malachi was always at work or busy in some other sense, and part of Ella had hoped that things with him would go back to the way they'd been before Gianna and the war. It had been a silly expectation of course; Ella should've known that Malachi was a real adult with real responsibilities and that he didn't have the time to traverse wizarding and muggle London with her whenever she should wish. His intensity had either increased or Ella has lost her touch, but he regularly made her nervous as well. She didn't want to shy away...

Working part-time left her with plenty of time to dwell and she sometimes regretted it, but she was alternatively reluctant to take on more hours should her music career take off. With the first half of her twenties over, and her youth waning more and more each day, Ella feared that she would be bustling around a café for the rest of her life.

A voice of familiarity came from over her shoulder and sent a weird feeling of prickling adrenaline across her skin; her stomach flip-flopped and a sweaty, nervous feeling came over her immediately. She knew the voice well, but she hadn't expected to see him so soon. It'd only been about a month since she'd left Ashley and France, and she hadn't exactly been calculated in regard to her method of doing so. The last time she'd seen him, he was picking up his things from her apartment. Her actions were sudden and she had been cold about it, but she couldn't face him after he'd called her the wrong name in bed. Ella was sometimes suspicious of him, and never felt like he was ready to be serious, but the sex was good and he sometimes kept her warm at night. Calling her "Nadia" had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Surely he saw it coming.

She turned to face him with a clammy feeling all over, her face pulling into a betraying smile when, after hesitating for longer than she would've really liked, she met his eyes. There was immediately a feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach like a rock, like she'd been caught in the act of doing something to betray him, and she knew that it came from her recent move and from all of her feelings, all of the things she never said. He didn't know she'd be in London, and she didn't know she'd run into him... At least, not so soon.

"Sure." She spoke softly, nearly a shameful whisper, in response to his offer. She felt like she was trapped now, and she was hopeful that he wouldn't ask too much of her. She was feeling a strong, strange mix of alternating emotions, but the most present one was guilt, and it was a hard one to face. She shouldn't have left like that.

She avoided looking at him directly now that he was seated beside her, and she squirmed slightly in the stool. She didn't want to spark the conversation because she didn't have much to say, so she sat in silence while the bartender finally made his way over to the pair. She looked past the worker while deep in a cloud of thought, hoping he would do the talking for her like he used to.

Ashley felt a sharp pang of guilt at Ella's weakhearted response. Perhaps he had overstepped already. While she wasn't turning him away, she didn't seem all that excited for him to be there. In fact, her meek response seemed to speak more of discomfort than happiness. One drink, then he'd leave her alone. He decided. They could sit there together for one drink. Maybe he was reading her wrong, he hoped...

As the bartender approached Ashley's worry faded into the back of his mind and his happy-go-lucky facade fell easily into place. “Hullo, another round for the lady, please, and a firewhisky and coke if you don't mind.” He smiled and paid the tab before turning to face her. “Fancy seeing you in London of all places, I thought you were still in France.” Ashley began. “You know me, I'm everywhere.” He offered with a light laugh. Joking was his armor. He talked more when he was nervous, and he felt the need to be talkative now.

She seemed to fluster him in ways he wasn't used to being flustered. He'd never had an ex before Nadia. Nadia had been his first real relationship, but she wasn't around for them to reminisce about the good and bad times. She was dead. Ella.... she was the only person he had that he could really consider an ex-love, and he wasn't sure how to deal with her. Was it normal to still be so affected by someone that you weren't with anymore?

“I was actually just grabbing a book for my uncle, Noah. You remember him, right? He wanted something on manticores of all things. That he thinks we might fight a manticore is pretty ridiculous. I think even I would just turn and walk away.”