stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

The movements of Ace caught the corner of her eye, the playful large black Shepherd seized the grey plush pillow within his maw and pranced in excited exaggeration as he clearly searched for something, or rather someone. As if wanting that 'ghost' to toss him that pillow again. The unsuspecting warlock still peered around as if anticipating yet another assault as Harley watched on with a hint of amusement which teased across her feminine features. Poor guy was going to get a heaping dose of paranoia hanging around her. What was the fae doing prying into their conversation anyways? Didn't the oracle of all the things fate and future have better things to do than to spy on this strange little...... whatever it was?

Those vivacious gemstone eyes shifted from the now disappointed Ace to Sly once more and it was like she could see every last question that passed within his mind, written there on his face. Crap. Truthfully, it was probably for the better that he allowed those questions to remain unanswered. Some things, Harley was certain were like Pandora's box. She was very much that box. But she was firm in her attempt to be somewhat honest and choosing to keep her secrets well in tact. A near impossible endeavour. Why did she felt the need to do so? Nor was this warlock even partially convinced even with her mastered art of deflection and fragile truths. It was like walking on a very fine tightrope. However, the warlock was nothing short of adamant, digging in his proverbial heels and refused to give a single inch. In this, he seemed so very certain. Was it possible she met her match in stubbornness? Their eyes locked in a momentary battle of wills, like she was truly considering to further contest it. But what were the chances that they would find themselves in a position where 'she' needed saving? She was always the one somehow nose diving into those particular messes. But she was also the one to find her way out of it too. Although near death occurrences seemed to be occurring around her every other week these days. Sly reminded her of their prior agreement that she had certainly not forgotten. Didn't he realise he was squandering his own get out of jail free card? Most guys would leap to seize it. "Don't worry. I am good for it. You know where I live." She leaned back into her chair unconcerned, deciding to... yield. There was no need to fret about a future that would never come. At least that was what she told herself.

The subject returned to the matter of that 'ghost'. If a hypothetical ghost truly detested him, they would have thrown something harder. If anything, it was probably initiating a pillow fight. Harley admitted what she believed to be sound logic. It earned the woman an eye-catching grin from that warlock all the same. That and a declaration that he would bring herbs for her ghost problem next time. That offer to fix yet another one of her ever-growing problems, even if it wasn't exactly a problem at all. Maybe if she actually had a ghost. He hardly needed to offer any help at all... maybe that was why he became a repairman? She thought about those herbs again... They would not harm a fairy, right? "Or I can just tell the.... Ghost I am charging more for rent. I bet that would work too. That is oddly nice of you to offer." People were not nice to her for no good reason... and yet he seemed more like he was trying to be helpful. That and she was infinitely curious of warlocks and their magic. At the very least she might learn something. She hardly wanted him to waste his time or herbs on that ghost problem she clearly did not have. It was the only way to explain it. The warlock seemed to have his mind made up as he went right back into what Harley called 'business mode'.

How much time had passed? She hardly knew. The clock was ticking and it would be getting too late to do any work if they sat around talking and she needed a semi-working shower. She listened to him as he spoke, noting how his accent enunciated each word. That was until right before that mention of dinner and hanging out after when the work was done. She hardly saw that one coming and she was usually good at telling. Sly seized the moment to insist that he was asking her out on a date, in case she needed clarification like he wasn't entirely obvious the first time. Funny man. Yet why did it still surprise her? Probably because he seemed nice and she never attracted nice guys. A slight grin pulled at the corners of her lips, regardless, as his unwavering gaze fixed as he waited for an answer. There was no crack of a grin or teasing look from him. He was serious. She was way too jaded. Especially when she thought at the last time she was even asked out on a legitimate date. Let alone... why he would want to ask out the woman that nearly killed him. Yet whatever possessed her at that moment, it was clear she was not saying no. Although, she answered him in true Harley fashion. Her response earned her a clear sound of amusement before he declared it was a 'date'. As if he wanted to make damn sure there was no questioning it. A date, she repeated in her mind. What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't like she hadn't ever been on a date before? Been around interested men. This was no different. It wouldn't be long before it all turned out exactly the same either. Dating was probably the definition of insanity. Harley was certain. Before she could say another thing, he seemed to take charge with a look of determination to continue what he had started and fix the plumbing, eliminating any need for that awkward scrambling after that question.

The blond warlock began to rise from his seat, to continue his work on that battleground that was her bathroom but Harley stopped him. Of course, she had to. Her reputation was at stake. The raven-haired woman was determined to show him one last thing. To clear the air about that job he seemed so entirely unconvinced of. Syn was not her. How she somehow wanted him to at least know that about her. She had to dance around everything else, it certainly didn't hurt to give him something that was uniquely her. She couldn't have him thinking she was lying to him about her actual job. When did she ever care what someone thought? Regardless, without another word the petite woman rose to her feet, wrapping around that table to make her way to the vacant chair next to him, the proximity of that flaming rabbit hardly caused her to pause. The heat actually felt kind of nice and the proximity, only made her all the more aware. Yet it was not nearly enough to deter the bold woman from her plan. With a swift nudge of her foot to the chair's leg, she angled it so she could face him before dropping into it. Their knees brushed as she unlocked her phone, pulled up the gallery of her portfolio and offered him a perusal of those photos.

That comment that she was 'good at this' drew a smile to her lips with a nod. "Thanks. Not quite the same things that I like to draw.. But those are under lock and key." She added in a faux seriousness. Although, it was the following question that shouldn't have been so surprising even though it was. How aware she was of the way his pretty blue eyes took their time to wander over her figure, looking over the exposed expanse of her still bare arms, along her neck, anything for a sign of that ink. Most people did when they found out what she did for a living and yet he seemed to look extra closely. It would seem curiosity got the best of him too. She rose a brow at him, pretty sure he wasn't going to find a tattoo on her clothes. "I have a few actually." The raven-haired woman added with a hint of a dare as if curious if he would ask to see. There were two kinds of people after all. Yet either way, it didn't hurt to make him wonder a little bit.

Sly then offered her phone back when he was finished, the feline woman plucked it from that outstretched hand and slid it back into her pocket. He had work to get back to. How she knew that. But it was his final comment, an invitation to watch him work... with the notion that his shirt could very well get wet again. That earned him a playful eye roll to combat that slight feline grin that crept its way on her lips.

"You know, when you put it like that. Pretty sure you're doing it on purpose." Not like she needed any help with that. That hint of flirtation with a distracted eye lock as they both rose.

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to put this away." She watched as the blond warlock return to the devastating state of her bathroom to finish as much as she could to give her a semi-functioning bathroom with Mihai in tow. It didn't take long before she followed, taking him up on that offer to watch... and be mildly helpful and probably a little bit distracting. But who would expect anything less?

Harley Westward