if you leave the light on { d a n j e r }

"As in Finn wants to move in with his girl?" Danny asked to clarify with a waggle of his brows. Full-time live in girlfriend times. Wasn't that the dream. He glanced over at the balcony that was currently covered in Jere's plants. "We have a balcony..." he mentioned and then an idea popped in his head with a grin. "Hey, you can have the guest bedroom if you'd like?" he joked, knowing her abhorrence of the futon they called the 'guest bedroom' that had probably never been cleaned after they had trash picked it from around the block.

"Are you gonna move in with Ari or.. Keela? Or get a place by yourself?" he asked as he shuffled back before mirroring her position and laying down, feeling the cool metal against his back, his shoulder bumped up against hers, her curls so close they tickled his ear when she moved. He sighed as he blew smoke up above them, watching it turn hazy and then disappearing entirely as he smiled easily. "Jere's gonna be so mad at me when he figures out I went in his stash," he said, not caring the least bit.

“Yuck,” Freya said, wrinkling her nose at the idea of sleeping in the “guest bedroom”. She didn’t know how Danny had done it That One Night. “Maybe Greg moves out and I take his room,” Freya joked, giving Danny a mischievous look before glancing away again.

Keela? Ari? Alone? “No idea,” she answered, still running her fingers across her scalp and then away from her through her hair until she was stopped by curly knots. She hadn’t really talked about it with the others. She’d have told Ari, but a part of her wondered when Ari and Prosper were going to move in together, too. A moment ago she’d been thinking that it was all fine, but maybe she was in denial. She didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

“Yeah,” Freya said, not really caring about the stash thing anymore. Her arms felt a little heavy from stroking her hair too much. Opening her eyes again, Freya reached for Danny’s hand, the one closest to her. “Dan, can you…?” She brought his hand up to her hairline with both of hers, trying to twist it around so he’d play with her hair. It didn’t really work though; they were shoulder to shoulder, apparently his arm wouldn’t bend that way??

Distantly frustrated by this seemingly simple task, she took the joint from his other hand and popped it in between her lips, then moved his other hand to her hair so he’d stroke it. It had been some work, but his fingertips at her hairline felt good enough that it was worth it. She let her arms fall, one of her elbows resting lightly on his chest.

He laughed, his eyes lighting with amusement at her expected disgust at the idea of the guest bedroom. But her suggestion seemed much better. "Dude, I'll kick him out right now. Might need to do a deep clean, but you'd be loads better than Greg," he told her with a wide smile. At least he wouldn't have to look at the guy's abs anymore. Could he be anymore blatant about his newly developed muscles. Ugh.

Holding the joint in one hand, he looked up at the sky, tracing clouds and their shadows that he could see in between the fire escape stairs above their heads. At Freya's touch, he glanced over at her, a brow perked in question as she grabbed his hand and brought it up. "What.. woah hold on--" he said, laughing as she tried to bend his arm a weird way, his shoulder twisting oddly in its socket. Then she grabbed the joint out of his other hand and pulled his hand across to touch her hair.

He stopped complaining, sighing with false exasperation as he threw her an amused glance. He did as she asked though, pushing his fingers through her hair gently, it felt even softer than he expected, swallowing thickly as he let his fingers drift from root to tip and then back again and again. "Think we would've been friends if we hadn't been in Gryff together?" he asked, his voice soft but curious.

Freya sighed, closing her eyes for a moment again as his fingers moved through her hair. Wow, she thought. Had anything ever felt that good?? She opened them again as he spoke, turning her head a little so she could look at him.

“No,” Freya said out of the corner of her lips. She thought about trying to talk around the joint but took a little puff and then took it out of her mouth with her fingers instead. Smoke collected at her lips a little as she spoke. “I mean, I have friends that were in other houses and Ari’s probably my best friend, but… it’s not the same as seeing your friends in PJs for seven years... is it?” she was rambling a little, the words trailing out gently in a stream of consciousness. Had she just said the word “friend” like forty times?

“There’s no way you’d be anything else, though... you’re such a quintessential Gryffindor, Dan. Mmm.” She made a sound of enjoyment at the end as his fingernails dragged along her scalp a little. She’d always loved having her hair played with, but right now it felt really good. She wondered why.

“It’s too small,” she commented, looking away from him to look at the joint in between her fingertips. She couldn’t smoke it, it was barely a thing anymore.

"Guess that's true. I dunno how you would've survived all those years without the glorious opportunity to check me out in my pjs," he told her lightly, smoke bubbling from his lips as he chuckled. He was pretty sure he remembered getting one of those shirts that had a muscled chest on the front from a muggle shop in London when his parents had taken him to Diagon Alley and wore it as his pjs often. Or was that Jere? He wondered where that shirt was now.

"Quinta- what now?" he asked in confusion, his brows coming together. "Is that a good thing?" He hoped so. He couldn't really tell. It could really go either way. But at her little noise, he stilled, peeking over at her to check to make sure that was a good noise before continuing. He had done this a million times, why did now feel different. They were just friends, he had to remind himself. He smelled the coconut of her shampoo, the softness of the curls between his fingers, her warm body pressed against his side.

He glanced at the joint and sat up a bit too quickly, shutting one eye as he regained his equilibrium before volunteering quickly to roll another one. He pulled himself to standing and then grabbed onto the window frame to pull himself through and back to the living room as he took a deep breath, chanting 'just friends, just friends just friends.'

Quinta–?

“Very Gryffindor,” she clarified with a smile.

Freya made a sound of protest when he sat up, removing his hand from her hair. It felt too good in there for him to take it out, and she pouted as he disappeared. She still had the little stump of a joint in her hand and she managed to get a few more puffs from it while he was gone, before dropping it somewhere she didn’t pay attention to. She didn’t move from where she was lying.

“You’re missing the sunset,” she said out loud, but she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, given that she was outside and he was inside and all. She hadn’t spoken above her normal volume, either. London sunsets weren’t usually very spectacular, and today was no exception. The clouds looked nice, though, painted a pretty pinkish-orange. Her eyes drew shapes in them until he came back.

When she heard footsteps again, she tried to tilt her head back so she could watch him climb through the window again. She saw a bit of it, upside down, but the effort was far too high for her effort-bandwidth so she went through the effort of pushing herself up into a sitting position instead. “Can I do the thing again?” she asked slowly, holding her hand out.

“Ohhhh. Right. Yep that’s me,” he said nodding. Why she used quintawhatever instead of very was beyond him. But then again he also thought arugula was a type of fruit when Greg had mentioned it the other day. Oh well.

He had taken care to roll the joint carefully. A bit more time than usual but he returned soon enough, plopping down beside Tricky with the proffered joint between his fingers, waiting as she moved to sit up. He had remembered to bring his wand so he could light it again for her. This charm was one he knew without a second thought. Unlike the accio charm she had used so easily in Jere’s room.

Danny gave her a look asking “What thing?” before catching the look on her face and grinning. “That thing?” He asked with a laugh.

“The... thing,” she repeated slowly, blinking at him, not understanding why he didn’t understand. She rolled her shoulders a couple of times as she straightened up and shifted back, crossing her legs. She could feel the impression of the metal from the grill-like floor of the fire escape in her back. She gestured with her other hand as she took the new joint from him. “Thing,” she said again. Maybe he was super high or something; she, for one, barely felt anything at all.

Freya held the joint between her lips and waited patiently as he lit his wand. But he was laughing a big Danny-laugh now, and she couldn’t help but smile back. She liked his laugh. He came closer but then she started laughing, and had to duck away, unlit joint held loftily to the side. It was a small laugh first, then a bigger one that kept rolling through her whenever she thought it was finished. Every time their eyes met she laughed more; it took her a minute to calm down enough to do it.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she said, before breathing out a steadying breath. She nodded serenely to herself, making sure that she was good. She leaned forward, thing between her lips once more, and inhaled slowly, lighting it. It was dark enough now that it glowed a little. There was still a smile in her eyes as their gazes met, but she felt a little not-so-playful thrill all the same. It was a lingering look, but then he moved his hand away and Freya dropped her gaze, thinking it was far more of a moment than it had any right to be.

She didn’t cough this time, but as she blew smoke out in a gentle stream, Freya was starting to think that maybe she wasn’t “barely feeling it” at all. She handed it to him and then shifted so her back was against the brick wall, her legs still crossed in front of her. She looked out at the skyline; the sun was almost totally gone now. “Do you feel good, Dan?” she asked, looking at him again, “I feel good.”

Freya was funny. She hadn't smoked that many times and still it felt nice that she trusted him enough to do it with him. As they talked about 'the thing,' he grinned at her. He remembered the first time he had tried to show her. They had ended up laughing more than anything, but Tricky was always down to try something new. That's one of the things that made them get along so well.

He lit the joint again with a touch of his wand and shuffled closer, meeting her bright eyes, laughter bubbling up as she ducked away. "C'mon Trickyyy," he cajoled, patting her knee a couple of times to get her to refocus. Except now every time she looked at him, her laughter sparked his own. His cheeks were hurting from smiling this much and he rolled his eyes at her, but of course, he didn't mind in the least bit.

Danny took a little breath as they finally settled out, leaning towards her, her eyes like pools of honey. With elbows on his knees, his feet crossed at the ankles, he inhaled as she exhaled, his lips slightly parted, and he thought he would rather smoke like this forever rather than from the joint. But as she shifted back, he blinked and glanced out at the setting sun, taking the joint and taking a drag, almost as if he needed something to distract himself. "Hey, look, sun's setting," he mentioned, flickering his gaze over to he before he nodded, a little smile about his lips. "Yeah, me too. Who knows, I might even ask you to dance later," he added, chuckling, remembering one of the other times they had smoked together and he had tried to do an impromptu waltz with her. He was pretty sure he had also attempted to dance with Jere too, but it was all a little hazy.

“It’s pretty,” Freya agreed, eyes on the skyline. She looked up at the clouds that had been pinkish before, but were now more blue as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. She took a deep breath, just sitting in the feeling for a moment, feeling the breeze on her skin... the (slightly) cooler temperature… After a moment, she moved her hand to her hair, wondering when her bun had come out and where the hair tie had gotten to. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked his way, smiling as she held her hand out for the smoke.

“Ask me to the dance?” she asked, her expression turning confused, holding the joint between a thumb and forefinger just by her lips. What dance? “Oh, ask me to dance?” She bumped him with her shoulder, nodding as she got it. “I was thinking, like, that kind of dance at school we had? That one time? Wow... I’d wear a different dress if we had that dance again...” He’d mentioned that dance that night she’d “stayed over”. She hesitated before taking another drag, feeling a little like her body was sliding slowly backwards, even though she was sitting still. She passed it back again. "There's no music though," she commented.

Her little confused expression made him laugh. He wasn't sure if it was the smoke or if it was just her, but he was feeling lighter, happier than he usually did when he had to put up with Jere and Greg. He should invite Tricky over to smoke more. If he would remember once he wasn't as high. "Yeah, not to 'the dance'," he said bumping her shoulder back, trying to remember to be gentler than he was with his roommates. With his luck, he'd end up shoving her accidentally off the fire escape.

"Different than the blue one? I kinda liked that one," he told her with a smile. "Remember the dress robes my mom made me wear?" he asked, tilting his head back with a groan as he remembered how terrible they had been. He took another drag, trying to do one of those smoke rings that Jere was so good at and failing horribly before he shrugged. "I think Greg had a radio. Or I could always sing, yknow. Don't you remember that contract I was offered for my brilliant singing voice?" He cleared his voice dramatically and then started singing in his best (worst) operatic voice. It was a few moments before he heard one of his neighbors on the floor above him tell him to 'shove off' rudely before he heard the slam of a window.

"Sorryyy!" he called before he fell into laughter, leaning his shoulder into hers.

“No it was black and white,” she whined, pouting because he didn’t remember right. “Didn’t leave any kind of impression then,” she complained. Freya snorted when he mentioned the dress robes. Too big, didn’t sit right. He wasn’t exactly a dress robes kind of guy, either.

She glanced at him, a bright smile as he cleared his voice, her smile turning into a grin as he started singing. Her jaw dropped when his neighbour called out, and she covered her mouth with her hand, glancing at him again as he apologised. She broke into laughter as he did. She leaned into him too.

When her laughter finally faded into a smile, she flicked some hair behind one shoulder, then she leaned her head on his. She adjusted her legs a little so hers were crossed, one knee leaning against him. “Dance year was a good year,” she said, a little softer now. It was their fifth; the year after the Carrows. The year that everything had changed, both for everyone, in the general sense, and for her, specifically.

"You sure? Pretty sure it was blue," he said, scruching his face as he tried to remember. Who's blue dress was he remembering... hmmm...

"Dance year?" he asked a second before he remembered what year exactly that was. Not Carrows year. Not dome year. Just a normal year where 'learning' and 'education' were at the forefront. Yikes. "Wasn't a good year for me," he said voicing his thoughts, but leaving out the important bit of why. His thoughts were getting all jumbled and loose at the same time. Like he couldn't hold them all together. When he got like this his usual filter (which was already pretty non-existent) went right out the window along with his operatic singing.

"I think that was the year I had a crush on you," he admitted, laughing, his shoulders shaking her head where she was leaning on him. The sky growing darker now, the orange tip at the end of the joint a little more obvious now.

“What?” Freya asked. “Dance year was P party year,” she protested, not moving her head from its place on his shoulder. Of course, it was also OWL year, and the year they spent recovering from every awful thing that had happened the year before – they’d had a rebuilding session over the summer, for Merlin’s sake, but still.

His little confession made her raise her eyebrows. She wanted to pull back and look at him, but she stayed still instead, not speaking as he laughed. It was the year she’d been so into Seth Stanton. The year she’d been made quidditch captain. She tried to fit a Danny crush into the picture, and wondered what kind of crush it was – a fleeting one? A more serious one? It couldn’t have been that big a deal if he didn’t even remember the dress she’d worn to the dance, she thought.

Fifht year was sort of the year she’d started paying attention to things like the way she looked and stuff, so it kind of made sense that he’d noticed her more that year, but… She wondered what to say, and cycled through a couple of things. He’d said it wasn’t a good year for him. “That awful, was it?” she teased after a pause, her tone a bit softer now. “Crushing on me?” She took the joint as he offered it, but hesitated again before taking a hit.

Freya moved a bit so she could look at him, their faces close. “You didn’t do anything about it,” she said quietly, part curious, part commenting.

"Noooo, P Party was 6th year, Tricky," he corrected matter-of-factly. "Wait which did we do the big stressy exams in?" he asked a second later, betraying his confident manner. It's not like he had done great in those anyway so it wasn't a high priority item for him to remember. He thought it was fifth but now he wasn't so sure. But if you wanted to know the full 1982-83 Puddlemere roster, he could recite that backwards, in his sleep, even if he was high.

"Yeah, fifth year was the worst. OWL year right? I haaated tests," he told her, before she spoke up and he grinned, realizing what she meant. "Oh. That? Yeah that was even worse," he drawled, sarcasm clear in his tone, his hazel eyes dancing hazily with amusement. In his peripheral, he saw her turn her head towards him and he glanced at her, turning his head slightly before he realized just how close she was.

He picked the joint from her fingers as a distraction and took a hit as he lifted the shoulder she wasn't leaning on in a shrug, rolling his eyes. He was glad he was a little high at this point; it kept the embarrassment at bay. "What was I supposed to do? Get in line?" he asked, laughing.