A World Alone / Lorde

*checks my email at the club*

We should just be good humans.

safiyeece​:

closed starter for harper baddock

There were not many people in the world that Safiye trusted, even conditionally. It was a rare occasion to see her let her guard down, if not completely, but when it did happen, it was almost always in the company of Harper Baddock. Harper and safiye had orbited the same sun of High Society all their lives. When they both made it to Hogwarts, and Safiye was a little more removed from her parents’ influence, they’d given into the gravity of their worlds and become friends. It was an odd sort of friendship, where neither woman trusted the other implicitly yet both trusted the other more than anyone else, but it suited Safiye just fine.

So tonight found her in one of the many lavish suites in one of Harper’s many lavish hotels, one or two glasses of wine further in than she might have been in different company. It had been a near unbearable day where Safiye had entertained not one but two potential suitors, truly ambitious on her mother’s part, followed by a very long charity board meeting Rohesia had insisted Safiye attend in her stead. Following such a day Safiye found herself even more fascinated by the idea of Harper’s job than usual. “Tell me about work, what did you do today?”

@the-harperbaddock​

-

Harper, like Safiye, wasn’t one to trust others. Maybe that’s one of the reasons they got along so well-- this was just one of the ways they understood each other. Despite the fact that they both kept their secrets and played their cards close to their chests, they were each other’s biggest confidant. Maybe, Harper had once mused to herself, it’s not despite the fact, but because of it. Because we both know we have secrets, and we care about and respect each other enough not to pry. 

The two girls had danced around each other in their circles of higher society until their worlds finally collided at Hogwarts. They met early on, after getting a rare poor grade on a herbology assignment. Both girls ended up in the bathroom attempting to regain their composure. They commiserated over a shared dislike for getting their hands dirty with plants, over the absurdity of receiving a low mark in herbology— of all classes— and made plans to study together going forward. Soon after, they discovered a host of other commonalities they had to bond over.

Over seven years of friendship led them to their current position; lounging around one of the luxury suites at one of Harper’s hotels, almost through their second bottle of wine. Safiye told Harper of the two potential suitors she met today, and the young women all but staged a dramatic reenactment; roasting the men with mocking voices and over-exaggerated hand gestures while dissolving into fits of laughter.

When Safiye asked Harper about her day, Harper quirked her mouth in thought, before curling her lips into a smirk and describing the encounter she had at the front desk of this very hotel a few hours earlier. 

She was in the back, when an attendant came and informed her that there was a woman insisting that she “must talk to whoever is in charge right this minute, about a very pressing matter,” The pressing matter, it turned out, was said woman’s commentary on the lobby’s current floral arrangements. “I am not a fan of these spring-toned hues,” Harper recounted, imitating the woman’s grating, high-pitched, and nasally voice, “Winter colors are far better suited to my complexion” To Safiye’s amusement, Harper continued on with her voices, giving the (abbreviated) version of the half an hour long back and forth that went on between herself and the woman, where the former attempted to reason with and explain to the latter that it was June— not traditionally a time for winter hues. “But here’s the kicker” she said to Safiye, pausing for effect, “I asked for her room number to send a complementary high tea tray, AND SHE TELLS ME SHE ISN’T EVEN STAYING HERE, JUST WALKING THROUGH.” With this conclusion, Harper dramatically collapsed onto the bed, throwing her head into her hands.

“So,” Harper continued, as she poured both girls more wine, “was the charity meeting you were-” she cleared her throat knowingly, “so kind to grace with your presence any type of productive, or was it the usual shit?”

safiyeece​:

-

“Yes, it simply must be!” Safiye simpered along with Harper, then rolled her eyes again. “Nevermind that exponential growth is fundamentally unsustainable.” It was always like this with Safiye, swift shifting between shallow swimming and deeper waters. She was by necessity comfortable with surface interactions, but she craved greater stimulation. Usually, she ignored the urge, pushing it down until it was little more than a vague irritation, but she didn’t go to the same trouble to appear Proper when it was just  her and Harper.

For a moment, Safiye allowed herself to imagine it. Her hand went to the watch in her pocket and she traced its outline as she pictured seeing the world with Harper at her side, showing her friend around Istanbul, even reconnecting with Dilara. But the memory of her fallen cousin pushed Safiye out of her reverie and she shook her head. They could, technically, but at what cost? 

“Oh, but think of all of the Society we would miss.” The joke came out thin and dry. Safiye knew all too well that neither she nor Harper would truly miss the society they’d grown up in. Sometimes she craved a lack of it, and though they danced around the subject, never openly addressing it, she had a feeling Harper did as well. The truth of it was like the sun, easier to look at through the corner of an eye rather than directly.

Safiye took the offered menu and perused it eagerly, happy to follow Harper’s plan away from the ‘sad wine-tipsy road.’ Her eyes went immediately to the cocktail Harper mentioned, gin mixed with black tea and a ginger simple syrup poured over muddled plum. It combined several of Safiye’s favorite flavors and was something she’d mentioned to Harper on more than one occasion. It was touching that Harper had remembered to include it this season, and the kind of silent gift that their friendship was built on. “Well, if you have that, then I don’t need to look at the menu.” Safiye smiled as she handed the menu back to Harper.

-

Harper internally felt a surge of pride in herself as she took in Safiye’s response to the drink. She thrived on positive feedback as it was, but coming from Safiye it hit a different chord. It felt so genuine and natural; she knew Safiye wasn’t looking to gain something from her, she had just made her friend happy. And in a world where Harper knew that was a struggle for both of them, she was honored.

They didn’t often discuss it, their feelings about their respective situations. It was clear that there was more beneath the surface that neither friend could or would discuss, but part of what made their friendship so special was their understanding and respect of those boundaries; their shared ability to catch each other’s drifts in spite of things left out. It was this same understanding that guided Harper to drop the joke. If it were anyone else, she probably would have continued in order to keep her guard up and her edge intact. Truth be told, she also had the feeling that if she tried, her voice would crack or some other tell would show itself.

Unsure of what more she actually wanted to drink, herself, Harper pondered the menu. She let out a soft laugh. “You know, considering the role I had in shaping this menu, you’d think I’d have an easier time picking something,” she mused aloud. Truth be told, beyond Safiye’s drink, she could barely remember what they’d actually selected for this menu.

The summer was difficult for Harper. Between the memories of graduation, and then her parents, plus her birthday thrown in there too, the early part of summer especially tended to be blurry and hard to focus on. For one or two years after her parents passing, Harper attempted to actively deal with both, which just resulted in whiplash and guilt. She’d considered trying again this year, but ultimately hadn’t decided for sure.

Settling on an elderflower cocktail for herself, Harper sent word down to the kitchen and bar to deliver a couple of their chosen drinks along with some sweet biscuits up to her suite.

Drinks and Distractions // Harper and Ava

Harper closed her notebook and shuffled her papers into a pile before locking them all in the desk drawer of one of her office suites. Glancing at her watch, she let out a sigh as she wondered where the evening had gone. Hadn’t it just been half six? She knew she hadn’t been working quite so effectively this afternoon, but Harper really didn’t mind as she had been burying herself in busywork; she’d done too well it seemed, as she’d intended to head out a couple hours back.

She stood up, shaking her hair out before pressing her index fingers into her temples, massaging them slightly. She headed to the dressing table and mirror, where a smaller version of her makeup collection lived; Harper’s eyes wandered over the various items, ultimately opting to refresh her eye makeup, adding some sparkle to her lids, along with eyeliner and mascara. She swiped on some fresh lipstick before giving herself a once over, and grabbing her small purse from inside the larger bag by her desk on her way out.

Deciding on the path of least resistance, she headed downstairs to the hotel’s bar. It was typically decently populated on any given night, even more so because it was a Friday. Harper took pride in the fact that there was a diverse crowd; middle and upper-middle-aged professionals, singles and couples of various ages and stages, groups of young partiers bar-hopping.

As she approached the crowd, Harper scanned it for any familiar faces, perking up when she spotted Ava Avery across the room. Harper didn’t know her too well, but the girls sometimes ran into each other on nights out, and tended to share some casual company and chit-chat when they did. Noticing that Ava seemed to be alone, Harper expertly navigated her way through the room, arriving next to her and trying to grab her attention without startling the woman, “Ava, hey” she started with a soft smile.

@ava-avery​

lilyeliora​:

Lily watched Harper introduce herself to the various cats, and it reminded Lily of when she’d first gotten Chess. At barely 11, Lily had taken the whole affair very seriously. She’d visited the local shelter several times looking for, as she put it, her cat. It had been difficult, there had been several animals who tempted her, tiny sweet kittens and stately older cats, but none of them had felt just right. She still remembered the day she’d met Chess. He’d been a newborn kitten, mewling with his eyes still closed. Abandoned by his mother, the shelter’s owner had said, he’d need someone special to take care of him, and Lily had just known. Of course, now she knew that she’d gotten lucky, that Chess had grown up into the perfect cat for her, but she still believed in that knowing.

While Harper was talking to the shopkeeper, Lily looked over the cats Harper had already checked out. The “highly energetic though a little possessive” tag made her chuckle, because it reminded her of Chess. The tabby with white paws was a handsome fellow, but Lily wasn’t surprised Harper had passed on “calm and independent.” She couldn’t keep herself from attempting to get his attention, holding out her hand and clicking her tongue. She prided herself on being something of a cat whisperer, and after a few moments he rewarded her with a cursory sniff of her hand. She scratched his chin and then left him be. Her hopes rose as Harper seemed to connect with a small grey cat, only to be dashed by the shopkeeper’s words.

Lily would never consider herself someone who was good at reading people, but she was. More accurately, she had a sort of instinctive understanding of people’s emotional needs, so when Harper walked away, Lily didn’t follow. She gave the woman a few moments to collect herself and waited patiently for her to return. While she was waiting, Lily checked the labels of the other cats to see if there was another one similar to the small grey cat in personality. When Harper came back, Lily smiled encouragingly. “So we know now that you want a friendly and affectionate cat, that’s a step in the right direction. I looked at a few of the labels, I think you should introduce yourself to her next.” Lily pointed to a cat with bright eyes whose label read, “sweet and clever.”

-

Standing in the midst of the cat supplies, the variety of the offerings impressed Harper; it was like there was something for each cat. That means there’s a cat for you, she told herself, but manage your expectations the voice in her head nagged.

She soon returned to Lily and the cats, ready to jump back in. She was going to find the cat that was right for her. Maybe it would be today— she hoped it would be— but she wasn’t going to force it if it didn’t feel right.

Harper tilted her head slightly at Lily; “Thank you” she replied, hoping to convey how touched she was that the young woman had continued looking while she took a moment to recompose herself. Her gaze followed Lily’s outstretched hand until she was met with beautiful blue eyes blinking back at her.

With butterflies of anticipation, she made her way towards the cage; second row from the bottom, second to last column on the right. She saw the label that Lily had indicated, “sweet and clever.”

“Hi there” Harper found herself cooing to the cat as she reached out a hand for her to sniff, “You’re such a pretty kitty!” She didn’t know much about cat breeds, but this cat appeared to be some sort of siamese-balinese type mix; fur that was mainly whitish cream colored, with bluish-grey points and tabby markings on her head, legs, and tail.

The butterflies in her stomach intensified and the voice inside her head returned. Don’t get attached, it chanted like a mantra. But as the cat sniffed and then nuzzled forehead first into her hand, Harper couldn’t help but crack a smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Slowly withdrawing her hand and starting to turn back to Lily, her head whipped back around when she felt a tap on her hand. Sure enough, a single paw rested on her hand, and the cat let out a cheerful meow.

Returning her hand to its position just inside the cage, Harper turned her head over her shoulder to Lily, and motioned her over with her free hand.

“I think she likes me?!” she half-asked, half-stated, voice full of cautious optimism.

Liquid Dinner // Harper and Sebastian

It hadn’t been a particularly difficult or even eventful day for Harper. No hotel crises on her radar. If any were brewing, the management had elected not to tell her yet. Shrugging to herself, she tried to dismiss the thought and convince herself that she was making the best of what her evening had become. She tried not to roll her eyes too obviously at that thought as she subtly scanned the seedy yet passingly comfortable bar.

She had been about to leave her office suite at one of the London hotels, grab herself some dinner, and head home when an owl swooped in through one of the windows in the small entryway sitting room, delivering a message. The way the bird’s marigold-colored eyes blazed into hers before it flew out as swiftly as it arrived told Harper that this was not a note that could wait until after she picked up dinner. After taking a moment to skim through it, she set her jaw, letting out a frustrated exhale as she turned around and headed back up the miniature set of stairs that led to the actual room of her office. The note, unsurprisingly, contained instructions about hotel paperwork that she needed to prepare and information about when and where to meet: In two hours’ time at one of the bars that served as a Death Eater hangout. It wasn’t that Harper minded putting in the effort to do the work. In fact, she enjoyed putting together the documents and creating their details. They were always impeccable, of course, and Harper took great pleasure in being told as much. What she wished, however, was that she would be given more notice on these tasks. She understood the importance of secrecy and discretion, and that some of these needs popped up unexpectedly, but informing her at least a couple more hours in advance should theoretically be doable.

So here she was… two hours later…. dinner-less. She sat at the bar, swirling a mostly full glass of gin and tonic. Harper wasn’t usually an impatient person, but as five minutes ticked by she contemplated downing the rest of her drink as she waited.

@sebastian-whoisleft

mature conversations mixed with a lil flirting and joking >>>>