ride that wave

Harlan didn't particularly want to be out.

Did he ever? Fuck no. But, there he was, pressed up to the bar with an elbow on the corner and his palm propped up to his chin like an fucking idiot. He kept up (only just) with the fast-paced and half-drunk conversation of his friends around him. They were going on about a group of women at the opposite end of the bar— forget the fact that most of them were well spoken for in that department. The older he got, the more the allure of nights like that waned. But it was a birthday, after all, and he couldn't get out of it given it was the Griffins' off week and his go-to excuse was off the table.

Deep grey eyes that were hooded by the dim lighting of the pub canvassed the room. Harlan was unsure if he was looking for a distraction or an out. And he found both in a moment of breathlessness— Nessa Regan. She looked the same, more mature if he could afford her that, but he was struck immediately either way. It had been years since he'd seen the woman, and longer since they properly had a conversation.

What better time, he thought.

Harlan finished what was left of his beer and signaled for another as he studied her situation. It was clearly a date, and it was painfully obvious that she wanted to be anywhere other than. At least they had that in common. The man she was with slipped out of the booth casually, slicking back his greased back hair. Harlan couldn't help but let out a laugh to himself. That was the kind of man, he thought, that unironically wore a leather jacket to make himself feel bigger.

Without thought, Harlan pushed off from the bar and slid into the opposite side of the booth that had only just been vacated. "Miss Regan?" He pretended to be surprised as he settled smugly back in the booth with an arm wrapping casually around the back of the worn leather. "Looks like you're having the night of your life," Was he projecting? Absolutely.

This night could not have been a more significant letdown. Not even if her date turned into a pumpkin, actually, that would be an improvement. Nessa wasn't even trying to keep the scowl off of her face anymore. A friend had told her this guy was a great date, that he knew how to have a good time, but she had seen nothing of the sort. And she swore to all that was magical if he told her about his vinyl record collection one more time, she was going to hex him. Just as she reached for her purse to leave, he excused himself to the bathroom, and she sighed. Nessa wasn't the sort of witch to sit through an awful date just because it was the polite thing to do. If she didn't like a person, she'd say it straight to their face, well, if she bothered acknowledging their existence at all. Her pitiful excuse of a date pushed his stupid hair back as he walked toward the bathroom, and Nessa looked to her side to gather up her purse and cloak.

She heard someone slink into the seat across from her before she saw them and nearly sighed, thinking it was the annoying wizard back already, but a familiar, yet foreign, voice crossed the booth instead. The way he called her Miss Regan made her roll her eyes as she shifted to find his. Like he was reminding her of how young she had been the last time they had really, truly spoken, and she didn't much care for it. She was in a sour mood, and no one could outrun the fallout, not even the adonis of a wizard sitting across from her. His arms stretched out on the booth like he owned the place, and he probably could have. Nessa didn't follow Quidditch, but she also didn't live under a rock. She knew Harlan was a star player and the captain of his team, not that she was impressed or anything...

"Harlan," She said by way of a greeting, the name sounding strange coming out of her mouth. It had been a long time since she'd thought about him, but other than the fact that he was somehow more good-looking now, he didn't seem to have changed much. "Yeah, if your definition of a good time is daydreaming about stabbing yourself in the eyes with your wand." She told him, the negativity rolling off of her in waves. She didn't even care if her date returned to find another wizard sitting with her; actually, she hoped he would. Leaning forward slightly, she made sure to arch her back just so. She pushed cascading jet black hair off of her shoulder, revealing the thin straps of her backless dress and smiled at him. "Have you come to rescue me?" It was funny to ask, considering Nessa Regan was the last witch in all of London who needed a wizard to rescue her.

"Oh, it's that bad?" Harlan pulled a face. He knew that the woman across from him had a flare for the dramatics, but stabbing her eyes out with her own wand was a stretch regardless. "He looks just your type, though..." He hazarded a glance over his shoulder to where her date was in line for the bathroom and too distracted by himself in the mirror outside to even give them half a moment's attention. Harlan twisted back to Nessa, allowing his eyes to roam briefly.

Swiftly, he was reminded why he had been drawn to her those years ago— though, in hindsight, he knew that he should have been more attuned to the lingering warning signs in the way that she moved.

Harlan would be lying to pretend that he didn't catch the way that she pushed her hair over her shoulder as she leaned forward across the table, the thin strap of her dress shifting with it. He metered his breath and took a moment to think. He wasn't going to let her win that easily, anyway— distract him before he had the chance to do the same to her. Thus, he was faced with the problematic nature of their relationship what felt like a decade on. Nothing ever really changed.

"You're the last person who needs rescuing," Harlan sat back smugly and nudged his beer in her direction, having noticed her empty wine glass. It wasn't an exaggeration. Nessa had always been headstrong, averse to help that she knew she could provide herself. She wasn't all that unlike him in that sense.

"But I can if you want," He added as an after-thought, no sign of her date still, but he figured they only had a few moments to make a decision.

"Pre-etty much," Nessa breathed, rolling her eyes again as she remembered the way her date had laughed at his own jokes the entire night. Harlan being here was beginning to lighten her mood, but not enough that she didn't scoff at his comment about her type. She followed his gaze to where the wizard she hoped never to see again was still standing, checking himself out, because of course he was, and then shook her head. Nessa was as selfish and self-absorbed as the next witch, but that guy was out doing even her.

So while he might have looked like exactly the sort of wizard she'd spent the evening with, he wasn't. He wasn't smart or justifiably confident; he didn't have abs for days or a smile that made her want to grin back. She could only imagine how little he was hiding beneath his stupid jacket. He was dull, unlike the wizard she found herself sitting with now.

Harlan was something else entirely, he was a lot of things actually, and most importantly, this wizard from her past was bad news. Mostly when he looked at her like that, like he was the most powerful wizard in the room. Some of the details were blurry, so much time had passed, and Nessa tended to remember things the way she chose, rather than the way they had happened. She remembered some good stuff, but mostly she remembered that they hadn't ended whatever it was that they had started on good terms. Even though Nessa wholly blamed him for it, she was just as much at fault. It felt like a lifetime ago; she had been much younger then, and she had changed a lot since.

Even though she didn't need to hear it, it felt good when he told her that he knew she didn't need rescuing. Reaching for his beer with a sparkle in her dark eyes, the witch knocked it back and set the glass back down. She hadn't ordered the wine; that had been her date. Who comes to a bar and orders wine, anyway? Nessa was more of a Dragonwhiskey, black Irish tea, or nothing sort of witch.

When he tempted her, she thoroughly considered taking him up on his offer and getting out of this bar right now, but instead, a wicked grin flashed across her features. She sat back against the booth with a blasé sort of attitude and nodded toward the man she'd come to the bar with tonight. He was still in line, bouncing on his heels like he was a four-year-old who had had too many juice boxes, and she spoke. "I don't know, my date would be pretty upset, and I'm not sure if you could take him." She challenged him, and it took every inch of will power not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea.

Harlan let out a bark of a laugh and shifted, his knee pushing against the side of her own in the process, doing little to stop himself. He hadn't planned on being so cavalier about how little he thought of the other man as competition, and what the implications of that were, but there he was, doing just that. Was the guy even competition? And did Harlan have any right to indulge in such a line of thought? Both, certifiably not.

"I know you're taking the piss...." Harlan took bag his pint glass and watched her over the lip, taking another mouthful from where she just had. The Nessa he knew was much less a wine type and much more a beer and whiskey one. Clearly, it was the first date.

The shift in her demeanor was not lost on him, though. She mirrored him and sat back against her end of the booth in a way that was just as infuriatingly calculated. If she wanted it— "I better leave you to it, then," Harlan feigned something of fear despite her date being the least of his concerns. "Great to bump into you," He made sure that his leg pressed over hers once more as he shifted out from the booth for good measure.

Harlan was the last person to buy into that game.

Harlan's laughter was infectious, and even though she was trying desperately to keep a straight face, eventually, Nessa gave in. She laughed alongside him, at her pitiful excuse of a date's expense, because honestly, there was zero competition. Then again, she had never really found a decent match for Harlan. First firsts, and all of that. Nessa covered her mouth delicately as they laughed together. With envious eyes, she watched him drink more of his beer, silently wishing her date hadn't been such a fuck up with the wine or that she had told the barkeeper to keep them coming.

There it was again, that feeling running up her thigh as his leg brushed against hers. Nostalgia mixed with curiousness, it was a strange cocktail of want. She supposed it was always like this with exes, but it wasn't like she had all that many to compare. He moved to get up, and she nearly pouted, it was so apparent to her that she wanted him to stay, but at the same time, she didn't want to say that exactly. Maybe she felt like she had something to prove to him? Or perhaps she just liked to play the games.

"Oor," she began, a playfulness returning to her tone as she leaned toward him, "You could get me a beer," Nessa had not even considered the fact that he might have been here with a date of his own or friends, or that he had only meant to say hello and be on his way. The witch believed she was every bit as interesting as she thought. "And stay awhile," The witch finished, that same sparkle glinting in her dark eyes. Someone else might have thought her a bad person for wanting her ex-date to see Harlan. In her twisted mind, however, he deserved the humiliation for what he'd put her through.

Took her long enough.

It hadn't, really, but Harlan was feeling prone to exaggeration. He thought as much just as the sound Nessa's drawn-out word—orrr— had registered. He lingered halfway out of the booth but just close enough to plant both palms on the table, leaning forward to catch the rest of her thought. The knowing grin on his face gave any shred of decency he had away.

"Oh, could I?" He teased, his eyes narrowing. That had been what he was going for, but it didn't hurt to hear her say it. "Only if you promise to warn me when your date's on his way back..." Harlan rolled his eyes and glanced back to the queue for the toilets with a scoff. If it were him, he would have used that as his excuse to escape the bar altogether.

"Sure you don't want that wine?" The question was rhetorical, of course, and spoken over his shoulder, only just cutting through the growing noise of the crowd. The night was picking up in London. All the easier to go unnoticed.

The two pints were filled more quickly than he imagined, and by the time Harlan returned to the booth, he found Nessa still alone. "Binned him off, then?" He hazarded a look toward where her date been only to see an empty hallway. With any luck, Harlan thought, he might return just as he was settling into his spot. He knew he had no right, with Nessa of all people, but he couldn't help himself.

Agreeing to warn him about her dates imminent return Nessa's chest rose as she crossed a perfectly manicured finger over her heart. Nessa watched him look to where they had last seen her date and back before moving out of the booth. Scoffing at his words, Nessa couldn't deny the banter's familiarity; it was comfortable. Nessa had always known what she liked, she had been confident straight out of the crib, but she had also been so young when she'd last known Harlan. The way he sarcastically teased her, pretending he didn't know precisely what she liked to drink, made her smile; they both knew better She watched him as he cut a path across the bar with an undeniable swagger. Unlike her date, Harlan had earned every bit of his attitude.

Annoyance began to settle over the witch as she waited for Harlan and her date to return to the table, playing out what might happen depending on who returned first in her mind as she traced the rim of her empty wine glass. It hadn't even been good wine; it might as well of come from a box, the way it had clung to her lips.

Nessa's pleasure at seeing Harlan return before her date was in no way hidden as she rolled her eyes at his words. Inspecting a nail, she shrugged, "Perhaps he got lost," She mused; the idea of her date finding a better looking date than herself was the very last thing she'd assume. Nessa wasn't that sort of witch.

"Eager for his return, are we?" She asked him as she reached for the beer he'd brought her and smiled over the rim.

Harlan was skeptical— a glance, then another, as he subtly scanned the bar for any sign of her date served as the physical indication. "You think?" He sounded neither certain nor bothered if the bloke had gotten lost either way. Both parts of him hoped that he had and hadn't.

"No. Just curious," He fielded her question with a breath of nonchalance exaggerated by the way that she'd asked. Was it that, or was it just her?

Harlan handed over her pint and took a long drink of his own.  Physically, he was doing the same as internally— he stood in front of the booth, not committing to sliding in or leaving, opting to lean against the side nearest Nessa instead.

"Need an excuse, then?" He caught her eye and held it. "There's a better spot around the corner," He'd already grabbed for his wallet, leaving a few too many coins in the table in the process. "Gratuity," Harlan half-finished his beer as he caught the bathroom door opening. The escape in his mind was becoming pressed for time.

While Nessa wasn't exceptionally keen on staying in this booth, at this bar, awaiting the return of her chump of a date, she also hadn't been expecting Harlan to suggest they change venues. Not that she was complaining, she was just a little surprised by it. Her lips pressed into a thin smirk as she watched him throw his wealth around with ease. It was more coins than the drinks could have possibly cost, at least in a place like this, but he seemed unphased by it, and Nessa nodded once. Gratuity, right. She took one last sip of her beer before sliding out of the booth and hooking her purse at the elbow.

She was on her heels by the time the bathroom door was opening, and the little man came out of it; he spent another two seconds checking himself out in the mirror outside, enough time for Nessa to give Harlan a bright smile. The other wizard seemed to notice them, standing near one another at the end of the table, just before they turned to leave, and he yelled out her name. "Nessa! Wait up!" He called; how did he not understand what was about to happen. Her dark eyes flickered from Harlan back down to the wizard as he tried, unsuccessfully, to push through the crowd that had gathered near the bathrooms.

"Bye~" She called to him teasingly, wiggling her fingers at him and laughing. The grin on her features must have urged the wizard to move faster, but even if he caught them, there was not a damn thing he could say to change who Nessa was leaving with tonight. "Off we go," Nessa said, returning her full attention to the wizard from her past because when Harlan was anywhere near her, he always had her full attention.

Harlan shut the soft leather of his wallet closed and pushed it back into his front pocket. For him, it was less about the show of it all, and more about the fact that he couldn't justify stealing the poor bloke's date and leaving him to cop the bill— even if he did seem like an absolute knob.

He and Nessa had made it halfway to the door with Harlan leading the way through the crowd when the annoying sound of her name being called out over the growing noise of the bar met his ear like that of a gnat. It was like the guy was everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Fuck's sake..." He commented darkly, just as she piped up. Harlan grinned, mouthing a sincere apology as he pushed back the door to let her through.

"Cutthroat," He grinned as the door shut softly behind them and took the sound of the bar with it. Outside, it was cool, the looming threat of winter cutting through his jacket. "S'pose that much hasn't changed..." Harlan dropped a hand to his pocket and indicated in front of them with the other. "It's just up the road, there," It was a small bar accessible down half a flight of stairs and otherwise hidden to those who didn't know of it. He forgot the name, but he knew they had good food and he was starving.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that was a blind date?" He looked sideways at Nessa with a smirk as they made their way up the hill.

Leaving her ex-date in her wake, Nessa stifled another laugh as she passed through the door Harlan had open for her. It was liberating, exciting, and a little bit too nostalgic to be doing something like this with him. She was always making bad choices where Harlan was concerned. There was a reason they had broken up, there was a reason she hadn't seen him in years, but none of those things seemed to matter anymore. Instead, she focussed on the positive as she escaped a dreadfully boring date and got the chance to catch up with an old flame in one fell swoop. Reaching into her enchanted purse, Nessa pulled out her acket and wrapped it over her shoulders before zipping it quietly. The rebellious biker cut and thick leather material clashed with the delicate dress's soft fabric clinging to her hips. Nessa was nothing if not consistently contradictory.

"What?" Nessa asked as she sent Harlan a smug grin; the ex-date had it coming. If it had been up to her, she would have left him dateless and with the bill, maybe even a few more parting words, but she was behaving for now. Perhaps she was exactly what Harlan had called her, not that she minded the adjective in the least. Nessa was a strong witch; she didn't ask for permission or forgiveness, it was what made her singularly gifted at her job, but it also made her a dreadful girlfriend. She was selfish and entirely too motivated, and because Nessa didn't want support, the witch wanted to do everything on her own; she had a hard time supporting others.

"How could you tell?" Nessa giggled, rolling her eyes at the horrorshow of a date she had just fled from, and followed Harlan to the new place. "A set up from one of my cousins; she usually has good taste in men," Nessa knew better than to trust anyone, especially one of her shit-eating cousins, but she had done it anyway. More out of boredom than anything, Nessa had agreed. "Apparently, she doesn't know her ass from her elbow," Nessa explained with a sharp nod as they reached the end of the block.

"Will have to find a way to repay the favor," Nessa teased, the smile from before lingering as they made their way toward wherever Harlan was leading them. Nessa didn't come to London often, she mostly stuck to Cork and Ireland at large, but either way, she hoped wherever they were headed was better than where they had come. In more ways than one.

"As I said, the benefit of the doubt..." Harlan replied casually, looking briefly up to the sky that was clouded in darkness, a thin layer of cover blocking the stars, before flicking back to Nessa as she shrugged her jacket over her shoulders. Few people could pull off the whole leather jacket thing unironically, and the Regan witch was one of them. "Maybe you should've given him a shot," He teased. "Bit of a slow burn..." He continued with a nudge to her shoulder, clearly giving her a hard time.

It had been years since they had a conversation so casual, and he was surprised by how easily the two of them had fallen back into the familiar banter. After things had ended between them, he figured it would take a lifetime for her to even want to be around him, let alone fucking giggling, or following him anywhere.

"Who, her, or me?" Harlan selfishly decided for himself the latter— he was owed some sort of debt for having saved Nessa from a night of misery, he thought. "You can buy me a drink..." With a smirk he gestured down the stairs and followed after her, pushing open the door over her head to allow them both into the establishment. It was quieter than where they had escaped from, a large fire in the back, a few small groups huddled together at the bar and in the booths.

"Here," He nodded to the half-booth closest to the fire and slid in after shrugging off his jacket. "I'm starving," He thought aloud as he pulled out a menu, his blue eyes that were dark in the dim lighting of the pub flicked back at her from over it. "Surprised you came along," His gaze narrowed, recalling the last time they'd seen each other and choice words she had for him.

"Who, her, or me?", Smirking Nessa shrugged her shoulders at his question, deciding to let him come to his conclusions rather than tell him explicitly. The dark witch had meant she would get revenge on her troll of a cousin, but she liked his assumption better. "Figured you would have picked something more... creative for payment, but sure, I will buy you a drink." She told him lightly as they made their way into the establishment. It was far quieter than the last place, something Nessa appreciated. Cozier, too, with the fire going, and Nessa smiled as Harlan led them straight toward it. The witch had forgotten what it was like to be around someone who knew what she liked. Fireplaces, quiet, and not fucking wine.

Nessa pulled off her jacket and began to fold it impeccably before tucking it away in her purse. It shouldn't have fit, but that was magic, and even though it disappeared entirely inside, the witch still had to make sure to fold it perfectly first. She hung her bag on the little hook at the end of the booth and slid into the seat. The witch hadn't felt incredibly hungry until Harlan mentioned it, maybe because there was not a chance in hell she would have eaten anything at the last bar. This place seemed a bit cleaner, though, far more appetizing, and the company was certainly more appealing. Plucking her menu from the holder, she set it down on the table and quietly read the list.

"Hmm," She said softly, nodding her head, as he confessed that he hadn't thought she would come along. A part of her was surprised by it as well. Mostly after everything that had happened, there was a big part of her that would probably never really forgive him, but there was another voice in charge tonight. It wasn't just that her date was awful or that Harlan was fun to be around; it was more than that. Maybe it was nostalgia, or perhaps she had something to prove, but when he offered to take her here, Nessa couldn't have done anything but agreed. "Me too, to be honest," Nessa admitted, her dark eyes lifting from the glossy menu to meet his gaze. "It was a long time ago, Harlan," She told him, hoping saying it out loud would convince them both that she was over it.

Harlan watched carefully, an amused grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as she folded up her jacket neatly only to drop it into the depths of her magically affixed handbag. He let out half of a laugh. "Still very particular, I take it..." He clicked his tongue as he slid into the booth.

After his statement, surprise, he watched Nessa from over the top of his menu. He tried to play it off as mulling over the option of the fish and chips or the burger. In theory, he had been, truly, but his mind had been made up long before. He would pay for either of the options at training, so he figured why not enjoy whatever choice he went with. Indulgence, it seemed, was going to be the theme for the night.

He was relieved to know that the sentiment was shared— how incredulous it was that they were there, together, after everything. "It has," He agreed carefully. It had been a long time. And that was part of the problem. Nessa had lied about her age, and Harlan had been, well, he'd been himself back then.

"Good thing we're older and wiser now..." He teased, though his tone had a hint of seriousness to it that he couldn't quite shake. The barmaid stopped at their table, distracted by something, and swiftly took their orders. Harlan was thankful that she left just as soon as she came. He straightened up slightly.

"How have you been?" He asked more seriously than before, taking the menu from her, his hand brushing over her fingers in the process. It wasn't the same voice he used when giving her a hard time about her taste in men. He was genuinely curious about what became of Nessa Regan.