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[attr="class","ctopline"]So tell me now

[attr="class","cscriptcriminal"]if this ain't love

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[attr="class","clyrics"]Then how do we get out?[break]
'Cause I don't know

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[attr="class","cbody"]He had come back to London and he had not expected to run into Kali again. He knew that it would be easier that way, in all honesty. Part of the reason why he had been left had been because he was getting too attached to her, and he knew that it could never go anywhere. Finn was well aware of what he was and what she was. She was a pureblood, from a good family, that still had the traditional bullshit beliefs that she needed to marry pure, have pure babies, all that shit. And he was a halfblood. His mum was a Muggle and he had been raised entirely in the Muggle world. He had grown up on the streets of that world—he didn’t even have riches going for him. At least being from a rich Muggle family might be a point in his favor.
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But he wasn’t. He had not come from money. If there was a term that said the opposite, he was that. He had come from absolutely nothing. There was no chance in hell that he was ever going to be what the Parkinsons wanted for their daughter and he’d had no reason to think that she was going to go against that. It was nothing against Kali. He just knew that marrying well was pretty much what purebloods had been raised to do. He didn’t have to a part of that world to know that.
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He was smart enough to know that he was better off having no part of that. Leaving had made sense. Home had never been much of a home to him and he was tired of London. He’d looked forward to going somewhere else and seeing what it had to offer. He had not known where his travels would take him or what he would be doing when he got there. But somehow, he’d ended up in Moscow. The dangerous side of Moscow… well, it made London look like a bloody amusement park in all honesty. He had gotten on the wrong side of some people, which had not ended up all that pleasantly for him at the time.
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There was a reason that he did not fight in the ring all that much anymore. The use of his left hand was still… well, he could use it of course. But there were days when it was tenser and harder to use than others. Once that had healed, which had taken a bit of time for obvious reasons, he had already started working for the man that had ordered the stabbing. Years had passed and the work that he’d done had been good enough to be trusted for this. To move back to London, to run Paroxysm, even though he’d never run a business before. He had learned enough about it, at least, that this place hadn’t completely fallen apart over the past months since his return.
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Since his return, he had seen Kali on occasion, despite not having expected it. The first time had been on accident. The times after that, less so. He hadn’t expected her last night, but she had come anyway. Sleep had come easily after that, and he had been deep in that sleep until he had heard his phone ringing. Not even bothering to get out of bed, he’d reached over to check the caller ID to see if it was somebody that he could ignore. It was six in the bloody morning. But, of course, the area code had the familiar 495 area code, and he cursed under his breath.
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He didn’t mind these calls, but he really liked them a lot better when they didn’t happen at the crack of bloody dawn. “Привет¹,” his voice was still gravely from sleep as he sat up and pulled on a pair of shorts. The voice on the other end of the phone was irritated already, and he shook his head as he stood up. “Нет, нет. я был вверх. Все в порядке².” He headed out of the bedroom as he spoke, with a quick backwards glance at the witch still in his bed to ensure that she was asleep. It was then that he headed in the direction of the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. It was definitely going to be necessary to get through this conversation.
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Once he had a mug in his hand, he pulled the papers he needed from the safe and sat down in the living room. “Мы были заняты в этом месяце. Какие цифры вы хотите в первую очередь?³?” While he waited for his answer, he took a swig of the coffee, knowing he was going to need it.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]783 ● Kallisto Ophelia Parkinson ● shirtless + just shorts[break]
¹ - Hello[break]
² - No, no, I'm awake. It's fine.[break]
³ - It's been busy this month. What numbers do you want first?

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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If this ain't love

How do we get out? Cause I don't know

Pressed into the flesh like sand
Now do you understand?

Kali tried to never lie to herself about what this was between her and Finn. It was something. It had always been something. As far as she could tell, it would always be something...but whatever that something was, it was complicated and far from traditional. There had been no professions of love. Not once in all their history had either let that dirty four letter word slip. She didn't think either of them were at much risk of saying it either. Kallisto didn't even know if she believed in love, in the first place. She wasn't looking to be loved. She wanted to be wanted. 

And she always felt that way when she was with Finn. The feeling didn't always last after they parted...and it had obviously been very absent during his disappearance off wherever it was that he had gone. She still didn't know. She hadn't asked. All she ever asked of him were the stories of his scars. Not that those were quite considerable requests to make... But those were the thing she could ask him for without feeling like she was pushing him for too much. 

There would have been a time where she thought spending the night with him would have been too much to ask for. But somewhere along the way, that line had gotten blurred, too. It wasn't like she planned it. But it happened sometimes--and that was okay. He didn't seem to mind...and she liked it. She liked it more than she should have. She had figured out with Amy that she preferred sleeping with someone to sleeping alone. Not all the time, but more than not. And waking up with Finn was worlds better than waking up with the other witch, which was fortunate since Amy was being a giant bitch and they were totally done forever.

But when she woke up, even though she was in Finn's bed--she was there alone. It was still very early. She could faintly hear him in the kitchen. What in the world was he doing up at this hour? She would have fought to go back to sleep, but his voice--quiet as though it was over the distance--reached her keen ears. The absolute quiet of the flat made it possible for her to hear him speaking. But what was he saying? Who was he talking to? She sat up, her brow furrowed in annoyance. That slag of a manager that worked for him surely wasn't here. A swirl of jealousy burned in the pit of her stomach. Kallisto was tempted to be petty and prance out there all tousled sex hair in his t-shirt. But even as the fantasy of flaunting the fact that she had been the one in Finn's bed last night played in her mind, she heard Finn's voice again. It seemed to be a very one-sided conversation...and it was not in English.

Was he speaking Russian? And almost equally important, did she smell coffee? The witch's curiosity and love for the beverage urged her out from between the sheets and away from the comfy bed. Leaving the bedroom, she naturally came to the kitchen first. Pouring herself a cup of the coffee that the Harlow had brewed, Kali took a pleased sip. She could see Finn in the living room. He had his back to her...and he was most definitely speaking Russian. The one sided conversation made sense now, since he was on the phone. This was all very curious and interesting. She didn't speak Russian. So, she had no clue what he and whoever was on the other end of the line were discussing, but she was quite impressed that he had gone away and apparently come back fluent in Russian--or maybe it was Ukrainian or Bulgarian... The slavic languages all sounded so similar. Whatever it was, it was very sexy to hear him speaking it. She had a problem where she thought essentially everything he did was sexy, really just because he was the one doing it. She watched him appreciatively, with an easy sleepy smile on her face. The wizard was mysterious--and she loved every glimpse she got of his secrets.

@ aren't you just full of surprises • 749 • Finn's T-shirt that she is stealing to add to her collection of stolen Harlow tshirts

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]SO TELL ME NOW

[attr="class","cscriptcriminal"]if this ain't love

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[attr="class","clyrics"]THEN HOW DO WE GET OUT?[break]
'CAUSE I DON'T KNOW

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[attr="class","cbody"]His travels to Russia hadn’t been with much of a purpose. He had just ended up there. That had been how most of his travels had done. There had been no rhyme or reason behind where he had done. He had simply gone, and he had seen how possible it was to survive in each place. He figured out what to do for work and how to get by. Finn was not a person that required all that much money. He could sleep on the streets if he wanted to. He was adaptable. He always had been. That had been the only reason that he’d managed to survive as long as he had anyway.
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Finn had not traveled to Moscow with intentions of getting mixed up with any gang. As rough as his life had been, that was not a life that he knew all that much about. It had not been his plan in the slightest, but it had happened anyway. Though his relationship had started off… rocky, to say the least, over time he had earned his keep. He had stayed in Moscow longer than intended, had enough money to rent a place with more money to spare than he’d ever had before. Was a good portion of that money gambled or drank away? Yes. With the sort of people that he’d hung around, that kind of lifestyle was just expected. He’d seen people gamble away more money than he’d seen in his entire life during one game of blackjack.
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It had been the kind of lifestyle that he’d never had before he’d gone to Moscow and even then, a good portion of the time it felt more like he was playing at having that lifestyle than actually having it. Even if he had more money than he’d personally ever had before, he’d had nothing compared to what the rest of them had. He still gambled in places he could never afford, went to parties in hotels that likely wouldn’t have let him in the door otherwise. But for the wealth and the glamour that he’d seen, there was the gritty and darker side of things, and that was what he was more used to. That was where he fit more than anything else.
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That was why he was here now. When an investment opportunity arose in London, when he wanted to go back to London, it had just lined up. Who better to run an underground fighting ring than a former fighter himself? It had made sense to the people in charge, so here he was. Back in a city that he was far more familiar with than Moscow. Away from the glitz and the bullshit—he missed some of it, admittedly. There had been moments when it had had its perks. But most of the time, it had been too much opulent bullshit for him. He was glad to be back home. He had been glad to see Kali again, even if he thought they were both better off avoiding starting whatever this was up again.
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It had never had labels. They had never tried to talk about what they were to each other or what would happen in the future. The pair of them had fit together in ways that didn’t make sense to him and likely didn’t make any more sense to her, but here they were anyway. Once again shagging and forgetting the rest of the world for a little bit. In his mind, that was exactly what they were doing, after all. She might not have been exclusive with the pureblood she was seeing, but he was definitely the type of person that she was supposed to end up with. They could forget about that for a time—or she could, but reality would set back in eventually.
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It just didn’t have to when they were here. She had spent the night and he hadn’t thought to try to push her out the door. He didn’t mind her staying in his bed. Waking up with her there hadn’t been half bad, actually, even if his mind had been more immediately on the phone call at hand.
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So focused on the call, Finn didn’t notice Kali coming into the room. When he finally glanced back and saw her there, he had no idea if she’d been there for ten seconds or ten minutes. “Мне нужно перезвонить¹,” he muttered, eyes roaming up long legs that his shirt luckily did a shit job of concealing. “Я отправлю документы сегодня. Хорошо? И я позвоню тебе ... сегодня днем²?” Finn got to his feet as he continued, knowing there was little use in trying to conceal the fact that he was on an international phone call—she had to have been standing there long enough to put that together. “Да. Мы поговорим затем³.”
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By the time he hit the end button on the call, he had moved the rest of the way into the kitchen and leaned against the counter across from Kali. “Good morning.”
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[attr="class","cnotes"]838 ● @ kali ● just shorts[break]
¹ - I'm going to have to call you back[break]
² - I'll send the documents today. And I'll call you back... this afternoon?[break]
³ - Yes. We will talk then

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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If this ain't love

How do we get out? Cause I don't know

Pressed into the flesh like sand
Now do you understand?

Life had brought many surprises over the last few weeks. Kallisto welcomed most of them. There were time sensitive opportunities she was taking advantage of. Quidditch for example. She had loved Quidditch at Hogwarts--and been quite talented at the sport. But she had not given any real consideration for a pro-career. Before the purist revolution, she was set for a career in fashion. She had interned at Witch Weekly. She had contributed designs to Donna's lines. That path was going to allow her to rise despite the prejudice against purebloods.

Then things had changed--and the opportunity to join the Department of Mysteries had been made available to her. Familial wealth was restored to the Parkinsons--and using her mind rather than her body to build a career had appealed to her. She wanted knowledge. She wanted power. She believed she could find answers about herself and her twin within the Department of Mysteries. And she was still committed to that search.

But the epidemic had come along and taken from so many. It had left voids on the professional Quidditch teams--and they had money. So much money... and the political climate was already shifting. Order of the Phoenix leaders were working in the Ministry. Change was coming--she could see that. It wasn't as swift as the purist uprising and seizure of the Ministry, but she thought it could be more long lasting. 

She needed to build up her own wealth and public persona outside the Parkinson family. The epidemic would be cured eventually, but until then, she would fly with the Falcons. They'd demolished their opponents in the pre-season, which her catching the snitch both matches. She was brilliant on a broom. She always had been. She had learned a lot from her cousin, and he was helping her prepare for the regular season now. Even without his magic, and even being on the bench for another team, Kali knew she could trust Asher to give her good advice. The training regiment she was on now between what he had her doing, the yoga she refused to quit, and practice with the Falcons was utterly extreme. Toss in the shagging aerobics she liked to engage in, she was burning more calories than she would ever dream of consuming. Thank Merlin for protein and nutrient potions. Who had time for a real meal with a schedule like hers? 

She had decided to drop out of Lufkin after the term finished--at least for a year. But until the semester actually finished, she was really stretched thin: the Ministry, Bangor, Lufkin, and now Falmouth, too. It was a lot. Plus, she and Donna were in talks to open up a business together. It wouldn't require daily attention from Kallisto, but she was contributing to the design decisions, modeling the line, and hosting parties to promote the brand. She had a bash planned the next week when Hogwarts Easter Holidays would have all the pure Slytherin girls out of the castle. She was convinced if she could get Rhea Nott and Oralie Slughorn into a few of the new DKP designs that everyone else would follow suit. It was just about hooking the trendsetters. 

She would worry about that later, though, for now her focus was on the handsome bloke walking her way. That little smirk on his lips as Russian fell off his tongue was exhilarating. Her body reacted, goose bumps spreading over her. How could he do that without even trying? She would never understand it. Not that she was going to complain about it. There were zero complaints. It was delightful. But the cause--was like him--a mystery. 

He hung up the phone and she arched one meticulous brow up towards her mess of curls. A silent question was offered by the expression, but the words of her lips matched his. She gave him a simple: "Good morning." The greeting was purred in that soft, silky I just woke up voice that she made no effort to disguise. Heavy lidded eyes turned up towards Finn's face as she shifted against the counter. A small sip was taken from her coffee cup before she set it down and hopped up onto the counter. Her bare legs stretched out in front of her as she hoisted herself gracefully up. Several years out of ballet, she was still just as graceful as ever--and growing all the more agile, thanks to her dear cousin's insistence that shooting arrows at her was an ideal training exercise. She had her own opinions about that, but at least she got to shoot at him, too. So, that was fun. 

@ aren't you just full of surprises • 779 • Finn's T-shirt 

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]SO TELL ME NOW

[attr="class","cscriptcriminal"]if this ain't love

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[attr="class","clyrics"]THEN HOW DO WE GET OUT?[break]
'CAUSE I DON'T KNOW

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[attr="class","cbody"]His travels hadn’t come with many plans. Finn had never been much of a planner. Instead, it had just been with one purpose in mind: getting out of the United Kingdom. That was the only purpose that he really needed. There was very little for him in London. His mother had been mooching off of him since he had been old enough to afford a roof over their heads—it was far too young by most normal people’s standards that he had first started providing for his mother. But he had known that she was not going to provide for him. He had known that life was going to tear him apart unless he did something about it. Nothing was going to be handed to him. He’d had to get it all himself.
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And that was what he had done. He had done questionable work on the side, he had gotten into underground fights and, even better, had gotten good enough to keep winning. That had been enough to put food on the table, but certainly not enough to last his mother once he left. Who she latched onto was of little interest to him. He knew that she was alive. Checking in on her when he got into London was unfortunately something that his conscience had insisted upon.
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But while he’d been gone, she had been on her own. His travels had come with enough side work for him to eat and that had been about it for a while. That was all that he needed. More than that was appreciated, but not necessary. Finding a bed to sleep in was always nice, but he had slept on the streets enough to know that he was capable of it.
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That had all changed when he had made contacts in Moscow. Once he had proven himself to them, he’d been living a lifestyle that he was completely unaccustomed to. Most of what he’d experienced had been other people throwing their money around. Gambling, parties, escorts, sex clubs—they threw more money away in a night that he’d seen in a year at times, but he’d reaped the benefits of it right along with them. It had been fun. Definitely different. There were times when he just want a cheap bottle of whiskey, but he wasn’t about to complain when an expensive bottle was put in front of him. And there had been plenty of Russian women that had kept him occupied. All in all, though it had not been what he had expected of his travels, it had been fun. Better than he could have expected.
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But here he was, back in London. He knew there was no good reason for that, and plenty of reasons that he wouldn’t exactly call good. He had never been planning on seeking out Kali, but was he going to complain that she was back in his bed? Absolutely not. He could not get enough of her. If he had thought that time would change that, then he’d been completely wrong. If anything, he thought it had made it worse. She was an addiction that he was clearly not strong enough to break free of. And that was fine.
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He was just as aware of how it was going to end now as he had been back then. They were not from the same world. He was not the type of person that ended up with someone like her. That was the inevitable ending. But that metrosexual that she was dating was the type of person she was supposed to be with, and he was clearly not enough. He was more than willing to make up for what the other bloke lacked.
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Kali didn’t know where he had been while he was gone. Not the details of it, anyway. She knew that he had traveled, and a few stories had come out about his time away. He had new scars from his travels and he had kept up his promise in giving her a story when she wanted one. But he had avoided the stories that would really tell her what he had been doing while he was gone. The fact that he could speak conversationally in Russian was something that she did not need to know. She was smart enough to connect dots if she was given enough, and this was one more morsel of information. There was little reason for him to learn Russian as well as he had unless he was doing work in Russia—and what the hell else kind of work was he qualified for?
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His eyes returned to her legs as she hopped up onto the countertop, finding no use in hiding the fact that her bare thighs in his kitchen in the morning was a much enjoyable view. “I see you found the coffee…” He said, before moving to pour himself a new mug. It was way too early. He thought he definitely needed to see if he could coax Kali back into bed.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]837 ● @ kali ● just shorts

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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