[ttd] no comment [ezra]

He’d have gotten in an argument with the witch at the apothecary counter if he’d been able to summon the fortitude. She’d explained something about shortages and Hungary and he’d waved it off. Not that Liam was hurting for gold, of course—but he might be soon, if the price of hangover potion stayed like this. The stuff was a staple in the Thompson household. It had been far cheaper back in America, hadn’t it? Maybe they bred their own doxies over there, or brewed it differently. 

Probably he should try to stop comparing, now that he was professionally obligated to be home again.

Liam slunk into the shadowed alley between the apothecary and Quality Quidditch. Not to hide; he’d done far worse too often to be worried—but no one had better elbow the vial he’d paid through the nose for out of his hand. (Better wait to stock up on more than one.) Liam pushed his sunglasses up his nose and downed it. He leaned against the brick and waited for it to sink in before pushing his hair back with the glasses and stepping out again.

It needed to sink in a little more before he Apparated home, so he wandered down the alley toward a café for breakfast. He’d come here on the Underground. No longer was he seventeen and desperate to experience non-magical infrastructure: he took the train only when the thought of Apparition turned his stomach. Or the Floo, even worse. The Tube wasn’t brilliant, but clearly wizards had structured their transportation around having nausea remedies on hand at all times.

This all used to be so much less punishing as a kid.

He squinted in windows as he went, but when he passed a particularly darkened one he stopped to examine his reflection. Dreadful. He wasn't the only one too distracted to walk properly: as Liam had just gone to smooth down his beard, he was bumped into quite heavily from the side. “Oi!” he yelped. “Do you mind?!” His careless assailant had grabbed his hand to stop him falling over entirely, which was nice of him but Liam was far too bothered to appreciate it.

@Ezra Cohen

It had taken Ezra a moment to realize exactly who he had just run into, and when he did, he blushed to hard that he could feel the crimson heat in his cheeks. This was really him, wasn’t it? The Liam Thompson? Ollie’s flame, and possibly the bane of Ezra’s existence, despite it not being personal. He wanted to want to be mean, but he didn’t have that in him on a bad day, let alone a regular day. Besides, why should he be mean, anyway? Liam hadn’t done anything to him. Liam didn’t even know who he was. He was just a lucky man to have caught the eye of Ezra’s celebrity crush.

“Uhhh… sorry!” He said, not letting go of his hand immediately, and then remedying this as soon as he realized it. “I uh..” He paused, not sure what to say. “You’re really him, right? Ollie’s boyfriend?” He asked, blurting it and not even feeling bad about it. He didn’t know where to go from that comment, if he ought to explain or something else, but he let it linger in the air for a moment. “You’re in... that one band, right?” Banshee wasn’t his genre of music, so he knew of them but didn’t really listen to them.

“I’m really sorry. You feeling okay?” He looked a little worse for wear than Ezra, and that was saying something as Ezra had not been well the past few months.