night ride | roslyn

Harlan nearly spat out his drink.

Madeline gave him more than her usual scowl from across the table over her glass of wine, her bright blue eyes darting to where he had been watching the table adjacent to them which was undoubtedly home a first date gone wrong. A swift kick in the shin and he was nearly choking, though Mad had succeeded in bringing his attention back to her and the business at hand. The dinner was organized to pull together a game plan for PR during the national team season coinciding with that of the Griffins. More than anything, he figured it was an excuse to get together before Christmas.

As much as his manager pretended to hate him, Harlan had a sneaking suspicion she quite enjoyed his company after all of their years together.

"Merlin, relax," Harlan scoffed, his gaze lingering on the brunette stranger not even an arm's length away for a moment too long. There was something to be said for the food and the ambiance of Orsay nestled away in the heart of London, but space was not on the list of positives. The tables were crammed together so much that it was impossible to ignore the people in the vicinity. And that particular Friday night, he had hit the ultimate jackpot.

With his back to Harlan was a dark-haired man who had spent most of his spare time looking at himself in the reflection of the glass window in front of the restaurant, even going as far as pulling out a comb to push back his hair when his date had excused herself briefly. He was the kind of man who, unironically, wore a leather jacket inside. "You're really missing out..." Harlan leaned forward slightly over his plate to whisper to Madeline though his eyes were fixed on the bored-looking witch facing him.

With any luck, things were only going to get more interesting.

@Roslyn Hayes

So clearly this man was a bloody pillock. She was proud to say that the state of her growing ire was not clearly visible on her face. Her grandmother would be proud at the look of cool neutrality she currently sported. Perhaps not who she was currently directing said facade on, she was sure, but you couldn’t win it all. She needed another glass of wine if she was going to get through this without resorting to degrading him in the meanest way she knew how. If her mouth was more pleasantly occupied she couldn’t be held liable. The only thing that stayed her words was the look on her mum’s face when she inevitably recounted how this little setup of hers went.

She winced internally as she remembered how the last one had ended. She acknowledged that setting the blokes robes on fire was a tad bit more aggressive than she’d intended but it was purely by accident. Or, well, what she could claim was an accident anyway.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that she couldn’t assault people she wasn’t, like, actively hunting. Which was a total bummer. She thought that some blokes could really use a high dose of reality to bring them back down.

She dusted off imaginary lint off of her dress, taking time to admire her red nails, and then the animated snowfall on the hem. It was wasted effort on her part because she looked amazing and, though the wizard before her was attractive, she wouldn’t even deign to some hate- well. It was a waste is all. Which was a shame because that really only left blowing things up as an ‘acceptable’ outlet at the moment and she was trying very hard to not.

She didn’t actually want to embarrass her mother, no matter what she said to her publicly.

Her gaze flickered back up as she grabbed her wine glass, her green eyes zoning in on the wizard behind her ‘date’. She cocked her head to the side, wracking her brain where she’d seen him, before recognition flashed briefly on her face. Hm. The betrayer was exceedingly attractive up close. A pout formed on her plush mouth and at this point there was only one person whom she could show her displeasure to without getting any pushback from it. ‘Traitor’ she mouthed discretely, brushing off her dates jacket so his gaze swept to her hands instead of her face. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at her date for a second as of to say ‘I’d take my favorite teams betrayer than the company of this eedjit’.

Anddd he stopped talking. Sweet Merlin. But now he was staring at her cleavage. Real nice, Henry. Bloody tool. “You had something on your shoulder.” she said, widening her eyes innocently and moving her hand back. She desperately needed more wine. And to maybe remove the skin off her fingers. Yuck.

Madeline, as per usual, had brushed off whatever Harlan was talking about in favor of briefing him on the Christmas press event he was scheduled to attend in Edinburgh. She casually slid in something about a speech he needed to give as a fresh rim of pink sugar lined the lip of her equally as sickenly sweet (and pink) martini. "Oh, so the dinner was to soften the blow, I get it..." His manager smiled innocently and he clicked his tongue, his gaze briefly flicking over to the adjacent table to check in on his entertainment for the night.

So far no drinks had been thrown, much to his disappointment.

Harlan nearly missed it when the woman caught his eye. He didn't miss the familiar flicker of recognition, though. It was usually the same— a few seconds of a puzzled look when they were asking themselves just where had they seen him before, then in an instant, the affirmation visible on their face, a relief. He stopped short of smiling as she leaned forward to her date to brush off his shoulder, mouthing something very pointedly in his direction.

Traitor. His own mouth would have fallen open if he had any less control but he didn't both to look over his shoulder. There was no mistaking that she was talking to him. Then became his turn to wrack his brain. She didn't look familiar at first, but then again—

"Mads," Harlan cut off his manager's tangent about the lack of service. "Don't look right away, but—" Immediately, she spun around to where his eyes had mistakenly darted. He really should have known that would happen. "Fuck's sake," He hissed as she turned back around looking unimpressed. "Does she look familiar to you?" Madeline rolled her eyes. "Look, Harlan, if I had to keep tabs on every woman you've—" He rolled his eyes.

"No, Quidditch related," He explained just as a waiter approached the stranger's table and obstructed his view.

She had to admit some of the irritation was fading away and replaced by a flicker of amusement. A shame Henry wasn’t the reason for the change in mood. On the contrary he was the sole focus of her boredom and her disgust. It was sort of funny how someone that was traditionally handsome could put her off quite so quickly. Probably because he looked like a pansy and acted like a right tool. She wondered if he made it a habit of letting himself be bossed around by his mum’.

Right, well, back to what was of actual interest. Her full lips curled up into a smile when she saw the quidditch player hiss at his lady friend. It didn’t bother that the woman had taken a glance at her. She resisted the urge to laugh but her green eyes probably gave most of her amusement at the situation away.

Her eyes swiveled back towards her ... companion of the evening when he cleared his throat. Oh. Right. He was - he actually wanted her to speak? Was it somehow her turn now? How trite. “Yes?” she asked/answered blinking a bit when she realized he’d asked if she wanted him to call their waiter. How kind of Henry to take a moment of his riveting biographical novel to deign to feed them. He started ordering quite immediately, and rudely, once the waiter showed up.

Ordering. For. Her. It was cute he thought she’d just let him. She was not suffering through a bloody salad while being subjected to this edjits presence. “Actually I’d like the filet mignon.” she cut him off. “Medium rare, please. With the mashed potatoes and vegetables. Is there a specific wine the chef recommends with the filet?” Ooooo Henry was turning colors. Well bollocks to him if he thought she was letting him feed her rabbit food. She would have ordered her meat fully bloody just to make a mess of her plate but she liked the outside seared enough to not.

Her gaze flicked back towards the adjacent table catching Bellamy’s eyes for a second - mm grey or blue, both? - and shrugging a little, small smile settling on the edges of her mouth.

Harlan asked the question but Madeline seemed more than uninterested in his quest to put a name to the stranger. "Do you want me to go to this event, or not?" He grinned, quirking his brow.  He knew better than to resort to bribery with her. She always won that game in the end. But he was desperate. With an exaggerated huff (and just as pointedly as before) she shifted in her seat, the fur coat that rested over her shoulders moving with her as she peered around the back of the waiter.

"As I said, never seen her," The witch plucked an olive from the antipasto place between them as she settled back into her chair facing him. "Though if you think you're getting a drink thrown on you, please do give me a heads up," Harlan's eyes narrowed briefly before giving up, popping a peperoncini into his mouth and finishing what was left of his beer.

Maybe he had just been imagining things.

Madeline had moved onto the next agenda item but Harlan was entirely distracted. The leather-clad man at some point had excused himself from the table leaving a clear view of the woman who seemed as unabashed in her staring at him as she had been when her date was present. Harlan nodded a thank you to the waiter who had refilled their own table without question but found himself flicking his eyes over to the other table.

"The Château Margaux is nice," He announced."Pairs well with the filet," Harlan couldn't help but grin, nodding to the menu left on her table. It hadn't been lost on him that she ordered one of the more expensive items in what he hoped was an attempt to stick it to her date who had presumptuously started ordering for her. Madeline rolled her eyes and flicked through the perfectly organized parchment book of the event agenda in front of her. 

Bye, bye Henry she thought wryly as her date gathered himself for some more primping in the restroom. At least it gave her some breathing room of her own. All she had to do was wait till her food landed on the table and shed be able to salvage most of her evening. Her eyes snapped back towards the attractive wizard she'd been busy making eyes at for the larger portion of her evening. "Is it good and expensive?" she inquired, smirking, as she resisted the urge to cackle. Merlin she should get the bottle. She supposed she could forgive this man for betraying her much beloved team if he helped make this night more bearable. "Nothing but the... best... for Henry. Thanks for the suggestion." she said slowly, trying not to laugh.  She put in her order with the waiter after he made his rounds. Of course her date would take a thousand years in the bathroom. Her gaze flickered to the witch and gave her a little smile.

Wouldn't do to seem rude and ignore Bellamy's own date. She seemed way better company than Henry. She'd be indulging in pink drinks herself if she wasn't stuck playing nice. The wistful side of her brain acknowledged the pair was having a better night than she was.

"Oh. You're back. Goodie." she muttered, sighing, before polishing off the rest of her sweet red wine. Dessert before the main course, to sweeten her disposition. She perked up, flickering her gaze back to Bellamy (she couldn't resist, really. Sharing amusement at Henry's expense was keeping her stable. She supposed she really could forgive him for not staying with the Magpies.) "We got a most excellent suggestion for the wine accompaniment. Waiters dropping it off." she said pleasantly.

Ah a most excellent suggestion. Yes, that'll do." Ugh. Who even said? Her mother really needed to step up her game up. This was sad. Not that Chloe had much substantial criteria to go on for the mate of her youngest child. Things like "rich and well-connected" were the only known requirements. It definitely left much to be desired. Not that she had any particular interest in being swayed. She'd thought of marriage once and only once. It would take a lot more than her mothers determination to think about it ever again, that's for sure. (Best not to think about, really. You'd think after all this time she'd be over it, yea? But hey some things just left a lasting impression.)

The food was bloody delicious at least. She may have made a pleased little humming sound and the wine did pair well. Thank you, handsome stranger. (He'd elevated from betrayer at this time.) Her happiness was ruined, however, as dear Henry decided he was going to start complaining about the establishment. Did the man have any common sense at all? She actually quite liked the ambiance herself. While she usually opted for rowdier places with good beer she still quite enjoyed a nice diner. Just minus Henry. "Scuse' me. I simply must powder my nose." she said sarcastically, grabbing at her clutch and her shawl. Escape route time. There had to be a back door exit somewhere. If not maybe there were some windows she could climb out of in the restroom.

With a nod, Harlan confirmed that his wine recommendation was equal parts quality and lavish. "Enjoy," He commented. The wine. Her date. Both, maybe. Just as the thought came to him, like bad luck her date returned. Their two tables were close enough that it could be said that he returned to their table. The man's hair looked more slicked back than before, wetter even (much as Harlan wished he hadn't noticed), and he'd shed his signature leather jacket for a white t-shirt cuffed up at the arms. It wasn't clear exactly what look he was going for but it certainly was entertaining.

Settling back into his seat smugly, Harlan held up his glass after their own were poured. Mission fucking accomplished.

He and Madeline were strictly ordering items from the canapé portion of the menu (her request), and Harlan found himself feeling exceedingly envious of the full meal being had just out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully, after one more of her pomegranate something or other cocktails, it seemed she was lightening up and letting the discussion of work go. "I swear, I'll be there," Harlan said through a fit of uncharacteristic laughter, having switched to whiskey himself as their own evening winded down. She, understandably, doubted that he would actually show face in Edinburgh after all of his shit-talking.

"Look, pinky promise," He teased, holding out his finger that she scoffed at before begrudgingly taking it with her considerably smaller one and giving it a firm shake like she would with her hand. "You can fire me if I'm not," Harlan said sweetly, watching as she collected her coat and bag, shuffling up from her seat. "If you do anything to get that stupid face on the front of The Prophet, I just might," As per usual, she seemed to have read his mind. That he had unfinished business that wasn't going to be left untended.

Harlan had been so lost in the banter he nearly forgot about it. The unfinished business. That is, until, the "traitor" stranger was collecting her own things and announcing loudly that she had to go powder her nose. Unlikely, he thought, with her all of her personal belongings in tow. Harlan downed what was left of his drink and slipped out of his chair and after her.

"That's not the way to to the back exit," He said casually as she scanned the hall toward the toilets, seemingly looking for her out that wouldn't be seen by hair gel, leather jacket. "If you're trying to sneak out, that is," It was. Harlan knew from experience that the only hidden way out was through the kitchen. It was how he got out of there without being seen by the press. "Did you like the wine?" He added as an afterthought, less of a question and more because he knew that she had to have.

The only thing she'd be enjoying was the food, but she nodded politely anyway.

She did not think twice about the possibility of being followed. Henry did not need another person to make conversation, as evidenced by his soliloquy. She was pretty sure he'd been glancing at his reflection on his spoon and, though he had a pretty face, she wasn't sure what to make of his outfit. His jacket definitely clashed with her dress, as did the rest of him. Nope best to just part ways. She'd send him a patronus' so he wouldn't be waiting like an idiot and that would be that. 'Emergencies' happened all the time in her line of work. No need to tell him she was on a bit of a time out for blowing up half of someones house. As far as she was concerned the owners shouldn't be harboring dangerous dark artifacts. You didn't exactly leave those lying around, did you?

Her face was still plastered on the Prophet, though. Photo taken mid-blow-up, so. That was awkward. She wasn't looking forward to her punishment and there was already awkward mutterings of a partnership and she did not do well with those. Babysitting duty, essentially. She was not a fan of it. If she wanted people to take care of she'd have some brats of her own already.

So deep was she into her own musing as she looked for an exit that she almost missed the wizard coming up behind her. Her reaction to being snuck up on was to brandish her wand, her tip gleaming, before she properly registered who it was. "You shouldn't try to sneak up on an Auror, Bellamy." Merlin, especially not one as wand happy as she was. She was very much the hex first, ask questions if there's anything still breathing later type. She perked up a little though. This lovely man knew an exit. "I am. Trying to sneak out." she confirmed, turning her body fully towards his tucking her wand back onto her thigh holster. She shot the man a smile, and widened her doe eyes a bit. "You seem like someone who may know a discrete exit. Would you be lovely enough to share?" she asked. "I'd rather not resort to climbing out of the window in the loo.' It'll be very undignified in this dress." not that it would stop her, were that her only option.

"It was beyond delicious and paired quite well. Lovely blend, and completely wasted on Henry, I'm sure." she responded absentmindedly. "It won't truly hurt his wallet any but it always makes me feel better to waste their money like they waste my time." it seemed a more even exchange, then. "Where's your date?" she asked curiously. "It looked like you were having a nice time." she said, a bit wistfully. She hadn't had a nice date since- well. It'd been a while, is a all.

It wasn't unusual for strangers to know his name. It didn't actually even phase him anymore. It was only when they started off on a tangent about his family, or his favorite brand of ale, or any other personal matter that it started to get uncomfortable. "How was I to know?" He grinned, watching her absentmindedly as she tucked her wand back to the holster on her thigh. Convenient, he thought, not that anything he wore really called for that kind of equipment.

"Hmm," Harlan hummed a thought, leaning a shoulder against the wall so that a man could pass by them in the hall. He gave him a second look to make sure her date hadn't yet copped on and gone looking for her. "Sounds like a bit more fun to see you escape through a window..." He pretended to weigh his options, a hint of mischief in his eye all the same.

"Besides, I thought I was a, what was it?" He ran a hand over his jaw. "Traitor?" A smile crept over his lips and his blue eyes, dark in the dim lighting, narrowed on her.

Harlan was pleased (though not all that surprised) that she enjoyed his suggestion. He wouldn't have suggested it if he hadn't been confident in it. It just so happened to be a bonus that it was one of the more expensive imports that Orsay had on their list. He knew from years of having ordered it when out on dinners with Griffins associates who had way too much money in Gringotts just begging to be used as a vessel for their grandiose charades. 

"Oh—" A date. With Madeline. "No," He laughed at the thought before realizing how much of a dick it made him look. "That was work-related," Harlan explained with something of a shrug, gesturing back to where they had been sitting. "My publicist," Immediately, he hated having said it, but it seemed the witch already knew who he was, so there was no real point in pretending.

"Good point, that." she conceded. "Word of advice? Best not to sneak up on the unsuspecting, as a whole. Fastest way to get your bollocks hexed off, that. I'm assuming you're... attached to those. " she said with a bit of a grin, glancing down at said equipment with a raised brow. She took a moment to peak around the corner, snorting, when she noticed her date was exactly as she'd left him. What a sad man. Not even good enough for a hate- "Its not fun, its desperation." she quipped, rolling her eyes. "You'd really be so cruel to a lady in desperate need?" she asked, full lips set into a full pout.  By the look in his eyes she was pretty sure she could convince him. "How chivalrous of you." then again she tended to expect the worst in people so, not disappointing one way or the other.

When your expectations ran low there was always a chance to be pleasantly surprised. And she'd already been pleasantly surprised once tonight.

"You are one." she confirmed, flush rising on her cheeks. "Ugh, don't remind me, yea? I wasn't holding it against you tonight but now you've gone and brought it up." was she being dramatic? Absolutely. Did she care he wasn't with the Magpies? Resounding, yes. Was she childish enough to hold it against a man in his profession? Erm, maybe. It occurred to her that he probably had no clue what she was referring to. He probably got all sorts of crazy witches saying crazy things. "You left the Magpies." she clarified, looking momentarily heartbroken, before a sigh escaped her. "All can be forgiven if you show me the, as previously mentioned, discrete exit?" she asked hopefully, turning on as much of her charm as possible. It usually worked in her favor. You know. When she tried. She usually did not.

Mm, he had a nice laugh though. Pleasant sound. "A publicist." her eyes got a bit round at that. Bloody brilliant. "You think she's taking people on?" she asked curiously. A publicist could probably help with her little... issue. "She looked impressive." she added. She was usually quite impressed when a woman could hold her own. "Though she's probably incredibly busy with you, huh?" she joked, grinning. She wasn't one to immerse herself in tabloid drama but her mother certainly was.

Would he be so cruel, she asked. Harlan let out an exhale of a laugh. Perhaps she hadn't read up on him all that much, after all.

He opened his mouth to counter but the woman moved onto the matter of him being a traitor. He perked up. Given it was why he'd gone after her in the first place, to get to the bottom of her comment over dinner, Harlan heeded his own warning and paid closer attention. "Oh, that's it..." Harlan hummed a thought, shaking his head in disbelief. The Magpies. Where he had been co-captain prior to The Griffins. Of all things. "And here I thought it was something a bit more salacious..." He teased. Nevermind the fact that he brought up what she had said to him.

"I'm not so sure," Harlan pursed his lips in thought, considering taking her through the kitchen to the "discrete" exit that opened up to the back alleyway. He didn't take well to being told what to do (most of the time), he far more enjoyed having the leverage. Maybe it was something about pride. Either way, Harlan felt he had something to prove to the stranger in some strange way.

"Not a fan of The Griffins, then," He was stuck on the fact that she was so fiercely protective over her own team. Much like Madeline and her own. He was too polite to say it but besides the fact that his publicist very much had her own hands full, she, too, was loyal to her team. "You could say that," Harlan confirmed as much with a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lip. "Your date will come looking soon, I imagine..." Pulling up his arm and rolling back the sleeve of his shirt, he checked the time for good measure.

“That’s it.” she confirmed solemnly. Teams were serious business in the Hayes household. Loyalty once given, stayed. It would take some sort of drastic event to sway her allegiance. “Salacious, eh? What was it you thought you’d done exactly, hm?” she asked, eyes alight with mirth. Her curiosity had been peaked and inquiring minds definitely wanted to know.

“Shame. I admire women with gumption.” They were hard to find, most days. A limited edition breed, in her opinion. “I don’t hate them  so much as I’m very put out when they poach the talent and lure them away with positions and fancy contracts.” she grumbled a little accusingly. “They are my team, though, so I take it a bit more personally than I should. Mostly I’m forced to root the beaters on when they go against your team and revel in the violence of it all.” As she said this, a worried frown marred her features. It was easy to root for the demise of someone you didn’t know personally though. “I suppose I can’t, now, having met you.” she added contritely, ghosting a hand on his shoulder as if imagining a bludger injury. She felt vaguely guilty about that, now.

Nothing for it, though. There was no crying in Quidditch.

“That’s not very ni-“ her words were cut off as her eyes caught sight of her abandoned date heading their way. “Bollocks.” now she wasn’t exactly proud of this but she was not at all prepared to have her night ruined by Henry just as it had been beginning to look up. “Sorry about this, really.” she apologized, glancing up at Harlan, and bit her lip as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She pushed up against him with quite a bit of force, sending them both through the ladies loo’ and bracketing him against the wall, once inside. Her pulse was thundering in her ears for a second as she steadied the both of them, thankful she hadn’t made them tumble onto the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Though this wasn’t too much better, really. They are quite close just then. Certainly close enough for her to catch the enticing scent of his cologne as she rested her gaze on his face and took a deep breath. “You smell lovely.” she managed, blinking her big doe eyes at him.

Harlan thought she might have been exaggerating the traitor comment but something about the look in her eye told him that it wasn't the case. The allegiances people had to their teams truly was something. Particularly it struck him when he was on said team. He often wondered if he would be so passionate about it if he didn't play. Most of him figured not. "Guess that's why I had to ask, isn't it?" He half-smiled. Harlan knew better than to divulge too much with an otherwise perfect stranger. The lengths some reporters went to...

The violence of it all? Spoken like a true aficionado, he thought, and whatever paranoia he had seemed to dissipate with her words. When he was younger that had a lot to do with his draw to the game as well. Less after so many years and so many injuries, of course, but the instinct was always there. "You certainly still could," Harlan said matter-of-factly when she mentioned she could now no longer root for his demise as she so eloquently put it. "Plenty do, just fine" He had just gotten out the last word when she cursed.

Harlan's head snapped to the direction of the dining hall to where her date had his head swiveling around undoubtedly in search of her. He had only been joking when he mentioned it, of course, he didn't think the poor bloke would actually send out the search party so soon. It must have not been the first time that he'd been ditched before the check came, Harlan thought to himself before he was being shoved back through a door.

"Fuck— Merlin' sake," Harlan kept his hands up for good measure. This stranger had some strength to her, that was for certain. "You're joking, right?" With his back quite literally to the wall, he felt more than trapped with her in such close proximity but he dared a smile. Clearly, she was not, because he was in the ladies' toilets. "He was that bad, hm?" Harlan hummed a thought, studying her face for a moment before disentangling himself.

"I'm not climbing out of a window," He said as he took a step away to put some distance between them. That was the very last thing he needed someone walking in on, him pinned against a wall in the bathroom with her, looking the way that she was. "We'll wait five minutes and I'll show you the exit," He decided, dropping a hand to the pocket of his slacks. The idiot would have hopefully given up by then. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be anyone else in there but that wouldn't last long, Harlan feared.

"But that's rude. I mean, sure, I could but you seem a decent enough bloke to not wish you injury." she argued, her brow furrowing. "Though I suppose if you have a really good game I might hold it against you a bit." she mused.

"Sorry, sorry!" she apologized again, wincing a bit, as he kept his arms up. So much for not assaulting anyone tonight. He probably thought she was demented. She was doing a bloody great job on that restraint thing wasn't she? Who knew Bellamy was a gentleman? The thought made her smile back, a small curve of her lips. "He was awful. He kept talking about himself, his money, and alternated between looking at his reflection on his spoon and my cleavage." not that she blamed him too much for the last bit. Her dress really was amazing. "The least he could've done is make some eye contact if he was going to ogle so blatantly." she said with a little shrug. "And I can't hex him because my boss will not be amused and his family is sort of connected with my family and just bullshit so my only choice is strategic retreat here." her words bubbled out quickly, her gaze flickering up to his for a second before scanning the window. She really was starting to tire of this whole thing. At some point she just wasn't going to handle being set up by her mother well. She could tell she was sort of getting to the end of her wand tip here.

She barely noticed as the man extracted himself from her grip. "Sorry." she repeated, contrite. She perked up almost immediately as he agreed to help. "Thanks." she said appreciatively. "I'll buy you dinner or something as thanks? There's a good place a few blocks down that should still be serving." she offered, feeling sheepish. Even if he said no at least her gratitude was a genuine thing. At this point she really just wanted out. She felt suffocated and trapped and she really just wanted to run and get the jittery feeling out of her system. Maybe she'd go do some drills with Toph after this was over. She needed some sort of physical outlet after food, otherwise she'd be wired all night.

"I noticed that," Harlan said matter-of-factly as if it was perfectly normal for him to have been analyzing the date of two strangers sat opposite him at dinner as if they were a chessboard for him to unpack before he went to town There were a number of things that he saw that left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, though he tried not to dwell on them. He wasn't the type to intervene just for the sake of some brute show of chivalry, even if her date really had made it quite obvious there were only a few things on his mind.

On-premise, there were a few things that Harlan Bellamy could live without when it came to his peers. For one, men who wore leather jackets indoors like they had something that they were trying to prove. A toughness. Some fucking grit. He much preferred the quiet chaos of the hardest people he knew who were far from leather-clad. A second, and an added bonus to the first, was greased back hair. There seemed to be one type of person who inhabited both of those things. Not always, but mostly, they also came with bad expensive cologne.

Her date, he imagined, had the trifecta.

"It's alright," Harlan conceded thoughtfully. While he wasn't particularly happy to have been shoved into the ladies' toilets he was more than happy to help her get out of the grips of the guy who was surely now asking the front wait staff if they had seen her— brunette, so tall, red dress. It was almost comical to imagine. "I could do with a proper dinner," He said without thinking. He hadn't intended on staying out much longer but the Madeline mandated charcuterie really hadn't cut it.

"I'll have a look," He decided, though their five minutes was far from up. Him peeking his head out was far less of a concern than if her date spotted her doing so, anyway. Thankfully, the coast was clear. Somewhat. A man shuffled out of the men's and shot Harlan a glance, looking twice after realizing he was certainly not a lady. "C'mon," Swiftly, he ushered her out and toward the kitchen where the familiar staff was sure to recognize him on his way out. It wasn't his first rodeo, after all.