watermelon sugar [erika]

Erika shrugged with a smile as she drank from her bottle. "You don't know where my bottle opener is," she replied gently with a grin that showed her white and even teeth. "It's my party trick and you're welcome," she added as she saluted him, knowing full well that she had other party tricks that she couldn't really mention in polite conversation.

The balcony was small but there was enough space between them as they looked out. There were a few ornaments on it that she'd collected from her travels - a small wooden Buddha from Singapore, a handcrafted terracotta pot that contained a plant that was miraculously still alive and a small collection of pebbles and seashells from Cornwall. She usually carried one on her person to remind her of home.

Erika heaved a sigh but wasn't heavy and sounded  wistful. "I love Paris in the rain," she told Harlan without being prompted to. "It's very dark and dramatic but it looks clean," she continued with her head tilted before she grinned. So he had a place but not like this one. "It's not meant to be," she reminded him quietly. "And that's what makes it special."

Now she laughed properly, high and delicate as she snorted and covered her mouth as though he'd just become a comedian. "Sure," she replied, still amused. "They must have the wrong address or they're queueing somewhere else," she joked, fingers of one hand wrapped around the iron railing as she looked at the other buildings. Some had their lights on and she could see people cooking dinner or watching television. She could hear laughter. Someone was playing jazz music.

Feeling Harlan's eyes on her, Erika turned around to face him, her back resting against the railing and one arm across her chest. "Are you in that line?" The tall blonde asked, uncharacteristically serious as she blinked at him. She'd always liked Harlan. He was fun. Flirting with him was always easy and she enjoyed it. There was something hovering between them, or so she thought, a will they, won't they sense. It was surprising to see that, even months apart, they were able to slot back into this sort of thing.

She left the question with him as she grinned, turning back around and away from him as the rain started again, hitting the broken roof tiles as she glanced up at the clouds but the moon was still visible. "Do you have any single friends, Harlan?" Erika asked conversationally as she drank. "I don't think I want a boyfriend but I wouldn't mind a cuddle partner."

Harlan contemplated it— his place couldn't be anything like hers— and it shouldn't be. Nonetheless, he tried to imagine what that might look like for him; tried to tie the memory to something tangible. If he were being honest he had a few. The library in his home (the one in his family home if he was being really honest), that secluded park just outside of Buckingham, the family home down the coast.

He followed her gaze ahead, intently studying the various levels of the night in front of them. Some windows were black, others alit, alive with their inhabitants following through with their business as usual. It felt intrusive to be watching them now, when he was sure they weren't as on display.

He took a long drink before turning back to Erika.

"Right, of course," Harlan couldn't stop his eyes from rolling, biting down on his bottom lip to hold his tongue. There was no way that she could be serious. Not with the way that she looked, not with the way that she was. Somehow, even now, she was unlike anyone he'd ever met. Impossibly cool. Nonchalant. And apparently, completely oblivious.

Are you in that line? The change in the air was palpable when Erika turned serious and asked him the very question on his own mind. By definition, he almost certainly was. He was here, wasn't he? "Erm," Harlan cleared his throat, stopping short of coughing back the mouthful of his drink. It didn't feel like a great time to mention that he had a girlfriend. Thankfully, Erika continued before he could.

"Plenty of those—" Harlan paused. "—none I'd recommend..." He finally grinned. Most of his single friends were dirtbags. There were a few exceptions, yet he still paused. "...not even for a cuddle," His eyes upturned to the rain. Neither of them made a move to go inside. It was cold but refreshing. A welcome reprieve. "Just cuddling you're after?" He wiped a heavy droplet from his forehead before glancing over at her.

Harlan didn't answer, so Erika took that as a "yes". Her eyes lingered on him for a second before she rolled them Heavenward. That was the thing about Harlan - he was almost like two different people. On the pitch and in charge of a team, he was decisive, strong and quick but when faced with anything even remotely personal, it was almost like he shut down. He refused to sing her happy birthday, too.

"Okay," came the non-response as a hint of a smile curved the line of her lip, mirroring his action as she drank and watched her neighbours below. Paris was a huge city, vast and sprawling, but Erika didn't think like that. There was Marie-Claire, an elderly lady with a shock of blue-rinsed hair that sometimes snooped through Erika's mail. There was also Michael who sung in a punk band and she'd been meaning to see him in concert. A young mum with twins who seemed to be getting bigger and bigger by the minute. A couple, Alice and Darla, who bought each other flowers "just because". These were like Erika's adopted family and there was a sense of belonging, one that she thought her companion might be missing.

She laughed sharply, the sound caught on the breeze. "Oh, come on," she began, exasperated. "Not even one?" The tall blonde was a lot of things but conceited she was not. Harlan wasn't jealous, he was just making a point.

She sighed quickly, her eyes straight ahead. "Sex is easy," the cursebreaker began, distracted by the rain momentarily. "You can get it anywhere, usually," she shrugged as she drank, candid and honest. While that wasn't the case for her, a one night stand was not difficult for a lot of people to obtain.

"But intimacy?" She flicked her eyes across to Harlan as she offered him a grin. "That's a different ball game completely. Who doesn't love a snuggle?" Erika tapped her fingers against the balcony railing without a thought, lazy and slow, like the ticking of a clock.

"Boyfriends are hard work. I'm sure girlfriends are, too," she added as an afterthought and not to offend him. "I think all I want is someone to pour me a glass of wine, stroke my hair and ask me about my day," she added with a soft smile, face turned upwards to the night sky. "And when I tell them my day has been shit, they'll then hand me the bottle," she joked before she shrugged. Erika didn't really like, as the kids said, "catching feels".

"I'm fine, though," she assured Harlan quickly in case he thought she might suddenly burst into tears. "It's all that tequila you made me drink," she grinned, nudging him with her elbow. "How are you getting home?" She asked Harlan, wondering if he was planning on meeting up with the friend he came to the party with. "My fireplace isn't connected to the floo network, I'm sorry. Running away from ancient evil and all that," Erika added lightly as she waved a hand through the air and drank her beer, downplaying the fact that her job was incredibly dangerous. Her apartment had wards that covered every inch but sometimes, that just wasn't enough.

He supposed he ought to be surprised by her candor— but it was Erika. Harlan hadn't known her to be anything but, particularly when it came to the physical side of things. It was enviable, to be that open-minded, so free of inhibitions. That sort of thing only seemed to get him in trouble.

"Mm," The blond wizard hummed his thought as he ran a hand through now damp hair, eyes following hers to the sky and blinking through the misty fall of rain. "You're not wrong," He finally confessed. Sex was easy. If you were looking for it, you could almost always find it— so at least experience had told him. Being intimate was an entirely different beast, though, and something that he'd been grappling with more so than ever in his own personal relationships.

Harlan focused on her hand, her slender fingers (painted some neutral color that he couldn't define) tapping the rail in almost perfect harmony with the rain. It also served as a warning— the metered sound. Like a ticking time bomb.

"Don't think I'm the best person to give advice on the matter," He said honestly with a half-shrug. Really, he wasn't. "If I think of someone, though, you'll be the first on the list,"  Harlan added, almost begrudgingly. He wasn't jealous. He had no right to be jealous. Yet there he was.

"Riiight" he finished what was left of his beer as he nudged her with his shoulder, laughing. The tequila had been all her. Getting home, though, that was right. That was a thing that he needed to do. "I'll just apparate—" He began, wiggling the empty bottle, still standing close. "Where do you want this?" He eyed the kitchen for a bin but made no sudden moves. The last time he'd been here he certainly wasn't thinking about recycling, and he was venturing on the same now.

Erika offered him a grin. "Wrong? Me? Never," she joked as she drained her bottle with a snort of laughter. It was becoming chilly now but she didn't move. She liked being outside - she did it for a living - but people watching had always been a hobby. The rain was heavier now, obscuring the moon as more lights were switched on around them.

"Ah." The word hung in the air. Harlan had either been broken up with or he was going on with some mess that he didn't want to talk about. Of course that was fine but they were friends, she just assumed he'd be happy to talk to her about it. She thought she would be perfect for the job. She and Harlan were in no way that close so she could give him an objective view. She lived a transient life, popping in and out sporadically. "That's a shame," she mused as a fat raindrop splashed on her nose. "I could have offered you some mystic advice but the door's always open," she grinned.

"Oh I'll take that," she replied as she held out her hand for the bottle. "I'll pop it in the recycling bin." He laughed and she liked it. It was deep and warm and it didn't matter that he was laughing at her at all. Erika couldn't help but smile back.

Apparating was a good choice. "Cool," she added off handedly as she took a step back and away from him, using the roof of upstairs' balcony as a makeshift umbrella. "Just not by the windows," she warned him quickly. "They're warded," she nodded. "I can't remember what with," she admitted with a frown. "But chances are it'll be real bad."

Pausing, she smiled at him again. "Thanks for coming," she told Harlan softly, her hands in her trouser pockets and her head tilted to the side. "Just don't leave it so long before you come and see me again, yeah?" Her smile widened to reveal her dimples as she stepped back inside and closed the balcony doors.


[done!]