my heart? it's all fire

Nadia Zabini + Lance Ahn ❥ Moodboard

“Well…” She looked thoughtful, her eyes betraying her amusement, “I don’t know if I can really just take your word for it, Ahn. For all I know you might be overselling yourself a bit, hm?” Her tone was almost challenging, smirk firmly in place as she spoke. Anywhere. She was taken aback by how much she liked the sound of that, how she wished it could be a possibility. It couldn’t though, and Nadia wasn’t usually one to dwell on impossibilities–if she wanted something badly enough, she’d make it happen or she’d toss the thought aside. For the most part she tried to be practical, but Lance somehow managed to breeze past the more detached, almost clinical exterior she presented to the world, the person she felt she had to be (the person she felt safest being); he managed to provoke reactions and emotions from her that very few people could. Sometimes that led to her being flustered, yelling at him in frustration, but now it made her want to play along with what she knew could only be a fantasy in the present climate. “Mhmm, what was it you said about Italy before?  Ah, yes, all the babes–that sounds lovely.” She teased, though his question quickly stopped any further teasing on her part as her laughter rang out between them. She took a moment to compose herself before she leaned back, looking at him with a skeptical eye, “Somehow I’ll manage to control myself, I’m sure.” Her lips twitched into a small smile, one she tried to hide as she rolled her eyes, “A modern day King Arthur, are you? Lucky me.” She shook her head fondly, letting out a soft laugh. Only Lance Ahn could say something so utterly ridiculous and still manage to be endearing.

“I don’t know if you realise that I have no shame, boo ting. If you wanna’ check the merchandise before you purchase the product, this shirt is as easy taken off as it is put back on, feel me?” He executed a jesting wink and met her smirk with a rather mischievous grin of his own. Lance always had been a merciless flirt, and it seemed being in Nadia’s presence only encouraged that part of him. Whether it resulted in copping a berating, or a slap, or —- if he was lucky —-  the subtly flirtatious sass she was dealing out that night: he just couldn’t help himself. ( And honestly, how could he be expected to not with that lip bite thing she was playing at? ) He chuckled at the teasing. Then drew in a rather long breath just to release it, as if he was about to push a weight off his chest and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Would you believe mans feels like he could be in Italy, surrounded by premium foreign hunnies, and he’d still only be interested in the premium hunny he’s with right now? Man, I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Nadia,” Lance laughed again, and it sounded almost steeped in disbelief. She had him acting proper moist. Like Dominique Weasley had been lately for that Yaxley bellend. And it didn’t even seem to bother him at all, really. Like, Lance was okay with chirpsing one girl? Lance Ahn. Chirpsing one girl. “Yeeaaaah, King Arthur, that’s me, baby gyal. Royalty, safe.” 

James strung his eyes tightly shut to the familiar nickname. A fuzzy recollection was brought forth from its use, of Lance using it when he spoke of this not being James, when he rose a wand to them. And he remembered with a cold clarity that it had been Lance that had been quick to jump forward when James had fell, though what happened after was unknown as he’d slipped into the darkness. Lucy had been so scared, reasonably so, and Leon had already been knocked out by that curse thrown by the Death Eater. Had they managed to catch the other two? What had happened after James had lost consciousness? So many questions spiraling through his head, yet his throat was clamped shut. There were many words hanging on the tip of his tongue, so many that they were all scrambled, choking him with the weight of them. As he heard from behind him Lance move to take a seat beside him, James’ eyes looked to the figure in the bed beside him. Leon. Had he not woken up yet? A fear seized James, just as strong and heavy as the guilt and shame that made his body feel as if it were lead. How he almost wished he were hollow. How much easier of an existence that would be. 

“How you feel like people should see you, and how your family and all your mates sees you for reals: bare different, bruv,” Lance disagreed, though his demeanour wasn’t argumentative in the slightest. Only warmth oozed from the boy. Maybe a little sadness, too, but he hoped James wouldn’t notice it. A part of him, caught in the tangled web of emotions, at odds with an inherent need to turn everything into a joke, just wanted to cry. For Leon, for Lucy, for James and his siblings and their family. They had lost and been through so much. He’d never been particularly close with Harry Potter —- more cordial toward each other than anything else as a result of his friendship with James. And yet, as he caught a glimpse of the hazy morning light reflecting off the other boy’s teary eyes, Lance felt a sharp, sympathetic pang of longing for the man. For a guiding light that had been stumped out. ( Really, he just wanted to pull his friend into a hug —- but he was still in a hospital bed for a reason. ) James didn’t deserve any of this. And Lance couldn’t fix it for him, couldn’t make it all less grim with a laugh. Before he considered a reason not to, he extended his good hand, and rested it over James’ —- a gesture that seemed simultaneously unfamiliar, but one of the easiest things ever. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you question it for a moment because of fucking Tuft. He’d be proper proud of you,” Lance didn’t say the name aloud. “How could he not be? You’re one of the good ones, Jam. Even if it all seems a little fucked right now. He’d know that. You gotta trust, he’d know that.” He squeezed James’ hand once, lightly, and released it. 

There was a gap in his mind. One that stretched to a week’s worth of time. He remembered being on the Clock Tower, arguing with Nate, and then the next thing he knew, his wand was pointed to Leon, Lance, and Lucy. He’d been able to break the Imperius Curse, but at what cost? He had woken up mere hours ago, sometime in the dead of night, to a pitch black that was all too familiar, almost comforting. The side of his face had a slight sting where the blow of the Sectumsempra had hit, but it was nothing compared to the aching in his chest. As if a hand had taken ahold of his heart and was squeezing it dry. Nate’s hand. Bile rose to his throat as shame filled his entire being. What a familiar feeling that was. Shame, guilt. He had thought he’d gotten passed this. That he was a better person now. How many times did he have to burn himself before he got it right? Would he ever get it right? What had he said, what had he done during that week? He’d already seen the singed mark in his skin, etched in like it was a tattoo, but having no place among the rest of them. 

DIAD + Parks & Rec

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Benji rolled her eyes, grabbing the boy by the ear to yank him up and away from Lance before she tugged him up as well. “Bro. You’ve had enough, don’t you think?”

He grumbled inaudibly and shrugged Benji off him, wobbling as a result of rather high intoxication levels. “Looking to shit all over another one of Kir’s relationships with someone that’s not you, Benj? At least Sienna’s out of the picture now. Nice one.” 

Nadia gave him a bemused smile, her hands sliding up his chest and linking at the back of his neck as she mulled over his proposal. “A tempting offer, Ahn. I do love a good holiday, and you’re not a terrible host. You’d make sure I was… suitably entertained, right?” She asked innocently, tilting her head to the side, eyebrow arched. She knew, deep down, she couldn’t seriously consider it. It was nice, though, to pretend that the biggest obstacle to his plan would be convincing Leonie to get on a  boat with Lance and Kiran in the first place, or making sure Amma didn’t throw anyone overboard–not that they were on two ideologically opposing sides in an escalating war. Not that there were people–people she was friends with, even–who wouldn’t mind seeing Lance dead; not that he could be in even more danger if the wrong people found out that he meant something to her. She could only imagine someone like Astoria’s reaction, especially given the arrangement between their families. And it was selfish of her, to know these things and choose to ignore them, to indulge in… whatever they were doing, and maybe she’d be more logical about it tomorrow (because above all she knew she wanted him to be safe), but for now she didn’t care–it was just them and she wanted to enjoy that for as long as she could without thinking of the consequences.

“Suitably?” He scoffed. “Talking to the Mac Dad here, Nadia. I got entertainment locked down. Trust.” Lance's mouth pulled at the corners into a rather fond smirk as he looked over her features. “We could see the coast of Italy, or Ibiza, anywhere.” It seemed a dream. Kiran, Lance, their lads, Nadia and her gal pals, on holiday together. Somewhere hot and sunny, looking over the ocean below. No stressing about who of their friends would be taken or tortured or worse. Not fighting another generation’s war. Not on opposing sides of it. Not even in it at all. It was a dream Lance would keep safely tucked in his back pocket for a time when it became a possibility. ( If it ever did. ) “Real question is —- would you be able to handle yourself around your boy shirtless? All tanned and looking like a piff beach babe. Dunno, man. How can I be sure you won’t faint on me?” He looked into the distance in a theatric manner, cocking his brows in that old Hollywood movie hunk kind of way, “even if you did, though, I’d catch you. I’m proper heroic that way, gyaldem.” He broke character, if only to laugh at himself. Lance knew Nadia would, too. Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable with her. She didn’t take him half as seriously as he’d try to exude with other girls. A lot of the chicks he made movements with bought into his whole act, and whilst at the time he’d been more than pleased with it —- someone who either laughed at, sassed him, or just outright called him out on his behaviour ( who wasn’t his Mother or Reggie, ) was something he hadn’t really experienced before. 

“Well,” She drawled, raising an eyebrow at him, “It has been seven years, one was bound to slip out eventually.” She looked thoughtful, the corners of her lips quirking upwards into a small smirk, “Tanzania, Antarctica, the moon–I wasn’t picky, you know.” Her words might’ve been misconstrued as malicious, if it had been anyone else–but this was Lance, and there was probably no one who had as much experience with Nadia’s banter (or insults, she supposed) as he did, and the fondness in her tone was undeniable, her words decidedly teasing instead of insulting. Putting even the smallest amount of distance between them as she pulled away from the kiss felt wrong; Nadia didn’t want to stop kissing him–almost like she was making up for lost time ( imagining the smug grin that would illuminate his face if he could’ve heard that thought made Nadia’s stomach flip in the best way ). So she stayed as close as she could, leaning into his touch–leaning into him–rolling her eyes and fighting back a smile as he teased her. “You know, my mother told me even then that you only did those things because you liked me. Maybe your approach needed to be little more finessed before it caught my attention.” She knew she wasn’t fooling either of them–if there was one thing Lance had been able to do from the start, it was draw her attention. And when he pulled her into an embrace, she felt so many things–wanted, and safe, for starters–that she allowed herself to relax, nuzzling into his chest as he spoke. She usually prided herself on being good with words, always having something eloquent to say, but now she wasn’t sure how to begin to articulate her thoughts. There seemed to be so much to say but every way she thought to say it just didn’t sound right–didn’t perfectly express what she was thinking. So instead she leaned upward, pressing her lips against his, softly, briefly, before pulling away, murmuring “I am–I’m glad I came, too.” Because he had, without a doubt, been the best part of her night as well.

“I’ve been counting on it for years,” he snarked right back, chuckling. “Y’know, Kiran has this wayyyy sick boat and all these houses that he takes some of the lads to for vacays. You and your gal pals should come with one time. Sun, mad chill vibes, your homeboy Bromeo. How else you gonna’ spend your hols, forreal?” Lance, somewhere in the back of his mind, knew it was, at least at present, not likely. Not with the war. Not with everything in such a mess. Was it wrong for him to think he and Nadia had a future? As friends, as something more, as anything. It could mean danger. People on either side of the war would have their reasons to not agree with Nadia and Lance. And people seemed to do bad, bad things as a result of disagreements lately. For now, though, standing with her in the battlements, in the cool night air —- he brushed away the thought. Up there it was so easy to pretend the war wasn’t raging on below them. “Your ma was right then. Though me fucking with Amma when we were in first year, that was legit just me fucking with Amma. Such a temper on your girl, man. Always proper cracked me up whenever she popped off at the lads for annoying her. Remember when she punched me for stealing her quill? I remember you. Yelling at her to use her wand instead of her fists.” Lance laughed, loud and full of nostalgic amusement. It was odd to think how many memories they shared, even though they’d really only started moving beyond the banter and teasing that year. Throughout the year, she’d slowly become one of the most important people in his life besides family. ( Which, by definition, included Reg and Kiran. ) And he hadn’t even really realised it had happened at all. It was just suddenly true, that there was very little he wouldn’t do to keep her safe. That he wanted to see her happy. He traced her jawline with his thumb, eyes opening after they fluttered closed for the kiss. “Should I get you back, then?” Lance didn’t want to leave, but, “don’t want Leonie or Amma gutting me for keeping their gyaldem.”