+- Knockturn Bound (https://knockturnbound.net)
+-- Forum: Portkeys (https://knockturnbound.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=14)
+--- Forum: The Wizarding World (https://knockturnbound.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=71)
+---- Forum: Districts (https://knockturnbound.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=78)
+----- Forum: Residential Wizarding World (https://knockturnbound.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=198)
+------ Forum: Estates/Manors (https://knockturnbound.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=221)
+------ Thread: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia (/showthread.php?tid=1318)
Pages:
1
2
Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-03-2026
Friday, December 1, 1922
4:00 PM
♫
♫
There was a twisting in his stomach, one that he was wholly unfamiliar with as he crossed the sitting room to arrive at Liliya's bedroom door.
The night he'd fetched her friend, Lev had realized the villain's role he'd played in all of this. He'd never wanted it. He'd only wanted to help the girl who was thrust into his life understand what was in front of her, and how their life would have to play out. He'd thought he'd understood - to an extent - that Liliya's upbringing wasn't conducive to immediate obedience, and had tried to be cognizant of that.
But perhaps his patience had run out too quickly, or perhaps he'd never really shown any the way he'd thought he had. Lev could admit he wasn't the most empathetic. He had a difficult time with it, relating to others that he didn't know implicitly. While he could turn it on in a meeting, that was business, and that fake charisma had no place in a personal relationship he was meant to nourish.
To his credit, Lev had never known what a healthy relationship was meant to look like. His father had never loved any of his women - at least not that Lev could ever decipher - capitalizing on their usefulness and no more. The way Oleg sometimes spoke about Katya made the young man realize that even the gentlest of souls hadn't found their way into whatever affection the man had ever possessed.
Lev realized, he didn't want to be the same. He didn't want to be his father. He didn't want to be feared by his wife and his children. He wanted obedience, yes. How to cultivate both, he hadn't yet figured out. For a man as smart as he was, he felt hopeless in this arena. How did he learn softness when he had no example of it? How did he regulate his anger and rage and lead with something else?
How did he convince Liliya to trust him and allow him to start over, when he'd betrayed her so horribly? Lev wasn't one to brood or lament anything, but he realized he was longing. For the chance to make things right.
He had to marry her. They deserved to have some sort of peace between them, didn't they? Even if it was never romantic, it could be respectful.
He knocked, twice, his voice stopping against the heavy wooden door.
"Come in."
It was a start, even if she didn't realize it was him.
He closed the door softly behind him as he entered her room, his lips parting for a moment, before closing quickly again. Words came difficult, not sure where to begin, but he knew he couldn't stand here all day and gape at her.
"I was thinking," he said slowly, his heart picking up in it's rhythm. "I'd like to take you somewhere. Now." He shifted uncomfortably. "You'll need to change into something nicer." Was he asking her or commanding her? Jesus.
"If...you want to."
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-03-2026
She had been trying to read, but with little success. The book rested in her lap as she sat on the bench in her reading nook—one finger slipped between the pages to hold her place, forgotten. With her shoulder pressed against the window, Liliya watched the snowflakes lazily drift past the glass.
They were thicker today. Slow. Lethargic. Comforting somehow.
Something pretty.
The past two weeks had passed without much notice. Everything had settled into a monotonous haze. She woke in the morning, had breakfast, did whatever was expected of her until lunch, worked some more, ate dinner, and went to bed.
Repeat.
The only bright moments were the ones when Rosie visited. A few short hours with her best friend were enough to ease some of the burden and tightness in her chest—talking, smiling, hearing about the things happening beyond the walls of Harewood House. A small reprieve. Always over too soon. Always leaving her a little sadder when Rosie went home.
She was fighting it, this melancholy. Trying to stay present. To stay on track with the things expected of her: the work Nadežda placed on her table, the dinners she was supposed to attend at her fiancé’s side, a smile on her face and pleasant words on her lips. But it was hard. It was so damn hard. Like a possessive lover, it always returned to drag her back into its saturnine embrace.
The knock at the door broke through her motionless absence. Liliya inhaled sharply, pulling herself back into her body as she straightened.
“Come in.”
Her gaze landed on Lev.
She stiffened almost imperceptibly, eyes darting to his hand as he closed the door softly behind him before flicking back up to his face a beat later. It wasn’t unusual for him to knock at her door or to step into her room. They shared the same quarters, after all. He usually didn’t close the door, though. And he certainly didn’t usually look so nervous.
Something about that made her stiffen a little further.
"I was thinking, I'd like to take you somewhere. Now. You'll need to change into something nicer.”
A brief silence stretched.
"If...you want to.”
If she wanted to.
Liliya didn’t think Lev had ever said these words to her before. Not once. The unfamiliarity of them left her momentarily speechless. She wasn’t entirely sure how true they were, either. Did she really have a choice? She was past the point of trying to find out. Perhaps he was simply trying to make things a little more digestible. Give her the illusion of choice while expecting a certain response anyway. His way of…trying to be nice? She didn’t know. She assumed he had another business partner and his wife to impress at dinner, making connections or something, and naturally his fiancée would have to come along. And so she would, she supposed.
After a moment, she finally shifted, sliding her finger from between the pages and closing the book. “Okay.” She swung her legs to the floor and stood, the book loosely held against her stomach. For a second, she simply looked at him. When the moment grew awkward, Liliya gave a small, uncertain gesture towards the door.
“I’ll change,” she said quietly. “I’ll meet you in the sitting room.”
A short while later, Liliya emerged.
Instead of the simple dress she had worn all day, she wore a long-sleeved, deep-green silk dress with a high, softly rounded neckline. It fell to her ankles, the skirt gathered into delicate pleats that shifted with every step, her waist slightly cinched by an embroidered belt. Fine goldwork wound across it in the shape of slender branches, the same embroidery tracing on the outside of her sleeves and catching the light whenever she moved.
She had swept her hair back from her face, her curls gathered at the nape of her neck and pinned with a small jewelled comb that complemented the pearl earrings hanging from her ears.
Over one arm she carried a cream-coloured coat trimmed in pale fur, and in the other hung a small beaded evening bag.
Her eyes found Lev as she paused just inside the sitting room.
“Okay.” She drew a breath and pulled herself a little taller. “Where are we going? Who are we meeting?”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-04-2026
She would go.
Lev wasn't sure what he expected when he'd decided to ask her on an outing, but when she agreed, he felt the tension in his muscles deflate slightly. He felt the tiniest of curls at the corner of his lips, but he suppressed it, pushing it back beneath the surface as she moved towards him.
They could start here. Lev wasn't an optimist or a dreamer. He didn't believe her agreement meant anything one way or another, but it was better than rejection. Whatever the reasons Liliya had for going - duty, resignation, curiosity - none of it mattered when it meant he'd get a chance to show her he wasn't a monster in wait.
“I’ll change. I’ll meet you in the sitting room.”
Right. His eyes followed her gesture and he swallowed, nodding once before taking his leave to give her privacy.
When she emerged, Lev was ready. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he smoothed his short hair and turned, taken aback immediately at first sight of her. Lev had seen Liliya dressed up before, but he was remiss to admit that he hadn't taken the time to really look at her. A girl that he'd been convinced would eventually persuade the family to marry her off instead of to him - what had been the point?
Blue ice drifted over the green silk, before he cleared his throat and looked away, wanting to remain respectful.
“Okay. Where are we going? Who are we meeting?”
Lev offered his arm as he guided her towards the door. "Just us," he admitted quietly, "You'll see when we get there." His eyes drifted to her as he opened the door and ushered her through. "I think you'll like it."
Café de Paris
3 Coventry Street, London
5:30 PM
5:30 PM
The West End nightlife was already waking up.
Situated between Picadilly Circus and Leicester Square, Café de Paris beckoned them.
The whole street glittered as the city's finest arrived for a night of cabaret, dinner, drinks and intimate dancing. Created especially for the wizarding kind, the entrance was a non-descript door across from the Prince of Wales Theatre, leading below the street, where it opened into a grand nightclub accentuated with gold, art deco and fine wood detailing. It was a picture of luxury for the wizarding elite, catered to their youth, the sounds of jazz filtering through every inch of the establishment.
At the bottom of the first set of stairs was a small lounge where their coats were taken and checked, before the pair were ushered beyond ornate double doors into a a grand double-staircase that descended into the main ballroom. A large crystal chandelier hung over each small table while the room dimmed and illuminated with each change in tempo from the band.
Overhead, the ceiling was enchanted to depict a grand cathedral with intricate stained-glass covering the entirety of the atrium. "What do you think?" he asked, his usual confidence not as apparent as it normally would have been in such situations. Lev had been on countless dates over the years. Many women and girls had hung off his arm, and he'd never felt any nervousness about it. What any woman thought of him on some deeper level had never been his concern, content to simply show her a good time and be done with the whole affair.
With Liliya, he wanted her to be impressed, though he couldn't understand why.
Lev had given up understanding anything when it came to his fiancé, especially his own feelings, complicated as they seemed to be.
"They just opened a few months ago," he explained as he guided her to the table he'd reserved for them. "They have the best drinks," he offered her a small smile, "and the best music, from what I've heard." As they approached the table, she'd see a small vase filled with a soft floral arrangement of white roses, ranunculus, lily-of-the-valley and gardenias. He'd ordered it earlier that morning to be delivered just for her, unsure as to what her favorites were and figured an assortment would work well.
The waiter pulled out chairs for them both, greeting them formally before asking what they'd have to drink. A vodka on the rocks for him, and whatever Liliya wanted. When the waiter had gone, Lev cleared his throat awkwardly and looked about the place briefly. "After this, if you don't want to dance, I know of a place. An enchanted garden over in Chelsea. We could walk there."
His gaze drifted back to hers as the waiter dropped off the drinks, and Lev brought his to his lips, tilting his head back to finish it in one go.
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-04-2026
Just them—
The hand resting on Lev’s arm stilled momentarily as Liliya looked around, brow drawn in surprise. Why would they go somewhere alone? What was there to gain? She couldn’t remember a single time they had gone out together, just the two of them—like a date of some sort. It simply wasn’t something they did. Why he suddenly wanted to now, Liliya had no idea. Nonetheless, a sliver of tension eased from her shoulders.
At least she wouldn’t have to perform for another business associate for hours on end.
Dinner alone with Lev sounded strange, but it was too late to say no now. They were basically through the door. Besides, she wouldn’t have anyway.
No more fighting—wasn’t that what they’d agreed on? Just do as he said and be done with it. Peace, she supposed. Or surrender.
Lev’s gaze met hers as he gestured for her to go on. A month ago, she would have laughed in his face, turned on her heel and made her way straight back to her room. All she did now was stare at him a second longer before nodding once, gathering herself as she stepped through the door.
But he was right.
She did like it.
The ballroom opened before them like a sea of opulence, golden light reflecting off crystal and gold, gleaming over polished wood, sparkling beneath a ceiling of colourful glass. The music drifting through the room wrapped around her heart immediately, and for a moment, Liliya felt it swell.
When had she last heard live music? When had she last been somewhere nice? It felt like a lifetime ago.
Lev’s voice reached her from beside her, and Liliya looked up at him. A small smile played on her lips. “I think it’s very pretty”, she said quietly, letting her gaze drift back out over the room. “I like it.”
A short moment later, they were seated by a waiter.
Her gaze got stuck on the flower arrangement in the middle of the table as she sat. Had he…ordered those? Liliya’s eyes flicked to Lev before darting around the room. None of the other tables had flowers. She had no idea how to react to that.
Thankfully, the waiter asking for their choice of drink spared her the humiliation. Liliya ordered a glass of champagne, unsure of how…loose…this…date?—was going to be. She really wanted an Alexander, but perhaps she could save that for later. When the waiter had left, Liliya awkwardly settled her hands in her lap and looked over at Lev.
"After this, if you don't want to dance, I know of a place. An enchanted garden over in Chelsea. We could walk there.”
She blinked.
Dancing. Dancing with Lev in an enchanted garden in Chelsea. Talk about things she never thought she’d ever agree to. But despite how much she didn’t want to like the idea, Liliya couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of excitement. She really did want to go dancing. Even if it was with Lev. It wasn’t like she had anyone else.
After a beat too long, Liliya nodded. “Okay,” she said, trying for a polite smile and a light tone. “I’d like that.”
How strange that sounded. How strange it felt.
She glanced down at her hands, fingers worrying against one another before she forced them still. What was she supposed to do now? Ask him about his day? About the garden? Thank him for bringing her here? She had spent three years learning how to argue with Lev. She had no idea what to do beyond that.
Her eyes drifted back up to the flower arrangement.
For a split second, she wanted to grab the thing and smash it to the ground.
The thought dispersed when the waiter returned with their drinks.
Liliya muttered a small thank-you before taking a tentative sip. The glass stilled against her lips, though, as she watched Lev down his drink in one go. She didn’t think she had ever seen him behave so unlike himself. Everything about this evening was so unlike him that Liliya almost felt as though she were in a dream.
Swallowing, she set the glass down again. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment.
“Do you even...enjoy dancing?" Her voice sounded more uncertain than she would have liked. "I didn't take you for a dancing sort of person."
They had danced plenty before. At every damn gala and event, to be precise. They always managed well enough together, their movements fitting neatly into the practised rhythm expected of them. But that had been different. Those dances had been obligations, performances. Something they had to do because they were engaged, because people were watching. She had never pictured them dancing anywhere else.
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-04-2026
He stared at the empty glass in his hand as he twirled it between his thumb and index finger. The last time he'd gone out drinking, it'd been with a girl he'd met at the office, having stopped in to inquire about memory erasure. She'd wanted help removing the memory of her former lover, and Lev had convinced her there were better ways to go about that than obliviation. A few drinks in and he'd had her behind the pub he'd taken her to. A quick fling and they'd never seen each other again.
He couldn't count how many times similar interludes had happened if he'd tried.
Was Liliya the same type of girl? Had they met on the street or at a venue like this - perhaps through mutual friends out for a good time - would they have had the same type of fling? Lev's jaw tightened slightly, his memory flicking to the news she'd been with a stable hand. Easy. Unchaste. Ugly words for the girl he was meant to marry. So much crueler than he'd ever been about any girl he'd been with.
He pushed the anger away.
If they were to move forward, he had to let it go. He set the glass down and glanced back up, noticing her eyes on the flowers. She'd said she'd like the venue - krasivyy. He'd done well, then. Café de Paris had seemed like the type of place Liliya would enjoy, but he hadn't known for sure. As his gaze drifted to the flowers, he'd mulled over the idea that he'd never taken then time to discover anything that she liked. What her hobbies were. What made her smile. They type of music she liked. Her favorite people, and who they were. Her least favorite - surely him.
"I ordered them this morning for you. They'll deliver them to the sitting room before we get home."
He knew how stiff he sounded. He didn't know how to stop.
She blinked at his suggestion of dancing.
“I’d like that.”
Oh. His eyebrows lifted slightly and he inhaled, with an easy nod. "Good. Me too, I think." They'd danced together previously, at galas, garden parties and various parties their family forced them to attend. Neither of them had ever showed any enthusiasm, pushing themselves to get every aspect of their 'appearance' over with and without a scene. To think they could be so close, and not feel the animosity that coursed between them....was it possible?
Lev flicked his hand, signaling the waiter to bring them both another round.
“Do you even...enjoy dancing?"
It drew a genuine grin at the corner of his lips, along with an incredulous scoff. Did she take him for an old man? He was only twenty-tree, in a month anyway. Of course he liked dancing, as much as any other young paren' his age. What man didn't like having a pretty girl against him, her soft scent filling his senses? Who wouldn't take enjoyment of having their hands along a slight waist, staring into the seductive gaze that held them hostage?
"I didn't take you for a dancing sort of person."
"I'm rather good at it, actually." His grin grew as he nodded his thanks to the waiter when his second drink was placed in front of him. He studied her for a moment, before he brought the glass to his lips, sipping slower this time. "You just never noticed. We were too busy trying to escape each other." He savored the bitterness that coated his lips and tongue, letting the vodka burn its way down his throat.
He paused a beat. "I suppose that's my fault. I wasn't as gentle with you as I should have been." Another tip of his head, and the rest of the drink followed the first.
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-05-2026
Lev’s hand flicked out for a new round of drinks before Liliya could take a second sip. Her mouth fell open, halfway to a protest, but the waiter had already turned away and hurried off.
Well. She probably would need it. Whatever this evening was supposed to be to Lev, to them, Liliya wasn’t sure she could deliver it. Her body seemed to tense with every passing second, that stupid flower arrangement laughing in her face somehow.
He had ordered them. This morning.
They were going to deliver them to their sitting room before they went home.
Why did that make her feel angry?
The scoff from across the table drew her attention, and Liliya forced the thought away. She hadn’t even noticed her gaze drifting back towards the flowers until she caught the grin hovering at the corners of Lev’s mouth, and for a beat, she simply stared at it. Then her eyes flicked back to his.
"I'm rather good at it, actually.”
As Lev’s grin grew, Liliya could only look at him with a blank expression.
Seeing him like this was oddly jarring. Like reality itself had been distorted. Warped. Lev Zdravkova. Grinning at her over the flower arrangement he had ordered for her, in the establishment he had chosen to take her to, talking about dancing as though she should have known he might actually enjoy it. As though he hadn’t spent the better part of three years being anything but a robotic, unmoved, unfeeling statue around her. More machine than human.
"You just never noticed. We were too busy trying to escape each other."
Liliya’s jaw tightened, and she dropped her gaze to her hands, fingers curling into fists in her lap. How the fuck should she have ever noticed anything but his animosity and critique? How had she been supposed to see anything beneath the exterior of steel and ice that greeted her every time she so much as looked at him?
God, she wanted to lash out at him so badly. Flip this table over and scream in his face until she blacked out.
"I suppose that's my fault. I wasn't as gentle with you as I should have been.”
That made her still. Her gaze lifted again, a faint flicker of surprise crossing her face. Liliya watched him down his second drink.
For a moment she could do nothing but stare, conflicted. An acknowledgement. Some kind of apology? How long had she yearned for him to be gentle? A little less harsh, a little more encouraging. How long had she waited for him to be nice to her?
And now here she fucking sat. In the wake of his guilt.
Flowers. Drinks. Dancing.
Now. Now he did all that.
It raged through her like fire.
Before it could break through the surface, Liliya looked away and grabbed her nearly untouched champagne, gulping down the entirety of it as quickly as elegance allowed. She set the empty glass down, meeting Lev’s gaze only momentarily before reaching for her second.
Fuck this shit.
She downed that one too.
Stomach heavy, Liliya placed the empty glass beside the first and took a slow breath, collecting herself.
“It’s alright,” she finally said, forcing a faint smile as she looked back at Lev. “I should have tried harder.” Did she believe that? She wasn’t sure. But it was easier than accusations and defiance—they didn’t do that anymore.
Liliya waved the waiter over again. Poor guy wouldn’t get a break today the way this was going. This time, she ordered herself that Alexander, because apparently the rules were off tonight. Once the man had gone, her attention returned to Lev. She quickly brushed past his strange confession.
“I suppose you can show me all your skill later.” If they weren’t completely hammered by then. Though, on second thought, that might actually make it easier to pretend this was normal.
A brief pause. Liliya could already feel the champagne seeping into her blood. Her brows flicked faintly.
“Assuming you’re not all talk.”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-05-2026
She stared at him, and he held her gaze, his lips eventually straightening to fix her with a more curious look. He could see the tightening in her jaw, and for a strange moment, it gave him some sense of victory. Not because he'd thought he'd gotten one over on her, but because he could see the rage in it. She felt it too, as long as he had. Rage at being forced into something that neither of them had wanted. Rage at having their future decided for them. Rage for not having a say. They'd both swallowed it, internalized it, and when it became unbearable, they'd turned it on each other, instead of the people that had done this to them.
Because they couldn't. They were powerless. Perhaps it was why Lev enforced and Liliya resisted. It was the only way, either of them could feel some sort of power over a situation from which there was no escape.
Did that exonerate him? Lev didn't believe so, nor did he blame Liliya if she didn't.
“It’s alright. I should have tried harder.”
It took every ounce of his self control. Lev bit down on his lip as she ordered another drink, willing the annoyance that he immediately felt to dissipate.
She should have tried harder.
It was easy to say and harder to hear. Lev had spent a great deal of time and effort willing his cousin to do better. He hadn't led with warmth, but that alone shouldn't have been the reason for her resistance. He'd often thought if she just tried harder that they wouldn't face so many of the problems they did. They wouldn't be living miserably, crawling beneath each other's skin.
Did he believe she'd ever really tried? He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, dropping his gaze to the third drink that was set in front of him.
“I suppose you can show me all your skill later.”
Hm. Lev's smirk returned as he gave a little twitch of his eyebrow before taking the third shot straight to his head. He grimaced at the burn - stronger this time - before setting his glass down a little rougher, reminiscent of when he drank with his friends or brother.
Blue eyes settled again on Liliya as his head swam for a moment. He saw the twitch in her expression, his own grin spreading wider. Was she...flirting with him?
“Assuming you’re not all talk.”
"Have you ever known me to be?" His voice came lighter, lower than she'd be used to, the alcohol giving his muscles leave to loosen. Lev only said what he meant. Whether he was observing a flaw, or reassuring of his own prowess, his confidence was unmistakable. Annoying, his brothers would say, but Lev knew he was.
He leaned forward a bit. "When your friend came the other day. She called you...your old name." He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, popping it between his lips to light it. He flicked the match between his fingers as smoky tendrils rose, leaning across the table to offer it to her. Had she ever smoked before? Lev had never seen her do it.
"I can't remember now what it was, but...it was pretty. I'd never heard before then." He assumed his father knew her name from before, but Lev had never bothered to ask and Oleg had never said.
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-06-2026
There it was again, that fucking grin. So incredibly foreign. Liliya couldn’t help but stare—at his mouth, curling wide and open; at his eyes, more alive than she had ever seen them; at his cheeks, rounding above those ridiculous cheekbones. There had been a time she had looked at him and thought him handsome.
That notion had been lost somewhere between annoying and cruel.
She supposed the third shot of vodka entering his system then contributed a great deal to his loose demeanour. To the fact that he was suddenly talking to her like a human being.
And how poetic and beautiful it was. Vodka and champagne. The things it took for them to talk to each other at all. Perhaps that was her destiny, then. To become an alcoholic so she could endure the life she had been dealt. It felt jarringly familiar to Ruslana’s fate. The thought cast a strange new light over the woman.
"Have you ever known me to be?”
Now it was Liliya’s time to scoff. With her glass already close to her lips, she let her gaze flick away briefly before settling it on Lev again. “No, you’re right, Lev. You love to brag and then swing your dick about to prove the point.”
She froze. Had she just said that out loud? Liliya stared at Lev in shock before gulping down her drink. Well, whoops. He could think what he wanted. Crass. Unseemly. Vulgar. The words bounced around inside her head, but the alcohol swimming through her blood had made stopping herself impossible, and now she hardly managed to care how he reacted.
She could regret it later. At least no one was here to witness it. Liliya only hoped it hadn’t been enough for Lev to call an end to the evening. Now that the alcohol was starting to smooth over the awkwardness between them, she found she didn’t want to leave.
"When your friend came the other day. She called you...your old name.”
Her old name.
Liliya watched as Lev lit a cigarette and then proceeded to offer it to her. For a moment, she simply stared at it. Strangely enough, the gesture almost felt like a peace offering. A bridge of some sort. A hand across the divide. After another second, Liliya took it.
"I can't remember now what it was, but...it was pretty. I'd never heard before then."
The smoke scratched all the way down into her lungs, but she fought to keep it there. She hadn’t smoked since Durmstrang, and it burned like hell. Tasted terrible, too. Nothing like she remembered. The grimace on her face gave away what her voice wouldn’t.
“Eira.”
Slowly, she exhaled, tasting the ashy bitterness on her tongue. Her name sounded odd in this setting. Something that didn’t belong here. Or perhaps something that belonged only to her. She almost hadn’t wanted to tell him at all. But instead, she added more.
“It’s Welsh.” Her gaze lingered on him through the thin veil of smoke curling between them. “It means snow.”
Liliya took another small pull of the cigarette before handing it back to Lev.
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-06-2026
“No, you’re right, Lev. You love to brag and then swing your dick about to prove the point.”
Lev stared at her for half a second before a laugh broke from him, sudden and wholly unrestrained. It surprised even him, his head tipping back slightly as the sound escaped, before his gaze found hers again with unmistakable amusement.
The liquor had certainly started to take hold, not helped by the quick way Lev had downed the drinks in rapid succession. Ordinarily, he might have bristled at the comment or dismissed it as Liliya being her usual haughty self, but with warmth spreading through his blood and his thoughts loosening at the edges, he could only find the bluntness of it unexpectedly funny. More than that, he was almost impressed she’d actually said it.
"You have been holding onto that one for awhile haven't you?" He shrugged his shoulders as his laughter tapered off, but his grin turned insufferably smug. "Would be rather embarrassing to brag and have nothing worth swinging about." An eyebrow flicked upwards, unapologetic.
Having gotten the hint, astute as he was, the waiter had brought another round without being prompted.
“Eira.”
That was it. He remembered now as she took the cigarette from him.
“It’s Welsh.”
Welsh. A name originating in a country - a culture - meant to never have her found. Her father had done well to ensure the girl remained hidden from them, but like everything else, the Zdravkovas always found what they hunted.
“It means snow.”
He was quiet a moment, before finally speaking again. "I think it suits you. It's sharper than Liliya." He didn't mean it in any sort of disparaging way; rather it was the closest he'd come to what could resemble a compliment.
Cigarette back between his fingers, he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs. The burn of ash swam with the burn already laced along his throat from the vodka, and he tipped his head back against the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He exhaled letting the smoke tendril above him.
"Hungry?"
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-07-2026
To her complete startlement, Lev didn’t reprimand or sigh, but instead burst into unrestrained laughter. Liliya nearly jumped, her breath catching as she stared at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Had she ever heard him laugh before? The sound was so jarringly human that something inside her knotted.
She was beginning to wish they had gone out for business after all. At least that would have spared her this strange mixture of feelings swirling through her chest—part sorrow, part revulsion, part anger, and part something she refused even to acknowledge. Lev sat there like the opposite of everything she had learned him to be, and Liliya suddenly wanted no part of it.
It was strange. It felt wrong. Unsafe, it whispered somewhere at the back of her mind.
"You have been holding onto that one for awhile haven't you?”
She didn’t doubt the vodka was the only reason she hadn’t found herself on the receiving end of another correction, saved by whatever miracle had descended upon her tonight, surely to be righted by morning when the effect wore off, and Lev returned to himself. But her own tongue had grown loose, and she was dying to live. Even though she tried, she couldn’t seem to keep everything locked inside anymore.
Her gaze flicked toward him as she brought the glass back to her lips. “You have no idea,” she muttered into her drink, taking a tentative sip. How far was she allowed to reach? How long did she have? How many more comments could she make before Lev finally reverted to his normal self?
The thought didn’t matter for long.
"Would be rather embarrassing to brag and have nothing worth swinging about.”
Liliya choked on her drink. She quickly covered her mouth with her napkin, setting the glass down as she looked at Lev as if she were seeing him for the first time in her life. His grin was smug, and his eyebrow flicked, and to her absolute horror, heat crawled into her cheeks. Liliya immediately looked away, banishing the image that had surfaced in her mind uninvitedly.
“Don’t—say that. Ugh.” Looking anywhere but at Lev, she gulped down the rest of her drink.
Thank fuck for this waiter and his impeccable timing. Just as Liliya set down her empty glass, a new one appeared.
Should she stop? This whole affair felt like a freight train steadily accelerating toward a spectacular derailment. But she really didn’t think she could sit through this without blasting herself into oblivion—with this stranger sitting across the table, dressed like Lev, wearing Lev’s face, behaving like anything but Lev.
"I think it suits you. It's sharper than Liliya.”
She wanted to fucking scream again. Or cry. Or both.
Liliya took a slow breath and bit down on her tongue. “Yes,” she said quietly, watching him as his head tipped back against the chair, entirely at ease. “It does.”
The change of subject toward food was welcome, then.
Liliya reached for the menu immediately, burying herself in it longer than should be necessary. The words blurred together beneath her gaze, and it took a moment to decipher the descriptions. In the end, she simply settled on whatever.
When the waiter left with their orders, her attention slowly returned to Lev. She tried not to stare. That lasted perhaps three seconds. Then, before she could stop herself, the question tumbled out.
“Why are you doing this?” Her tone held no accusation or anger. Only an almost nervous curiosity. A desperate need to understand what he wanted from her. “Why are we here?”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-08-2026
“Don’t—say that. Ugh.”
His smile widened, and he shrugged his shoulders, completely at ease now as the sloshing in his head made his words come easier. "You started it," he said lightly, but he'd stop. No reason to turn this night anymore awkward than it already felt.
Leaving the cigarette between his lips, he was engulfed in the dry bitterness of tobacco, cut unexpectedly by something softer. Sweet. Peach. The faintest trace of her lip balm lingered against the paper where her mouth had been, mellowing the smoke on his tongue. He'd never wondered about those sorts of details with Liliya, but between the liquor and the way a flush pinked her cheeks, he found himself unexpectedly intrigued.
She was a young woman, and young women her age liked silly things like flavored balms. He'd tasted many before, but he supposed he'd never seen her the same way. She was never an interest for him, so suddenly stumbling along these little details was jarring. He took a long drag, holding the smoke deep in his lungs, before he plucked the cigarette again, blowing the smoke out above his head.
"Here. Finish it off," he offered, handing it back across the table, before he took to his drink again. The waiter came to take their order, and once he'd left again, Liliya hit him with a question he'd expected, perhaps just not so soon.
“Why are you doing this?”
He looked at her over the rim of his glance, cold blue eyes meeting their mirror.
“Why are we here?”
He swallowed the last of his drink, and pulled his lips inward, relishing the last of the burn. He missed good vodka. He missed the cold chill of a Russian winter. He missed the nightlife in Moscow and hearing his native tongue all around him. There were a great many things Lev missed, but fighting constantly with Liliya wasn't one of them.
"Because I don't want us to hate each other." His answer was clear and honest as he set the glass back down on the table, nudging it towards the edge so the waiter could take it when he returned. "We'll be married soon, and I don't want us to be miserable. I don't expect anything from you, Liliya, but if we could learn to respect each other, then I think we'll be better off."
He waited a beat, pushing down the annoyance that threatened to rise again at the way he'd always known her to behave. He didn't expect she'd happily agree, and he'd likely be subjected to another of her biting remarks, but he supposed he'd have to be the bigger person for now.
His voice came quieter, more reserved. "If anything it'll keep your aunt off of you, and my father off of me."
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-09-2026
"Because I don't want us to hate each other.”
His words floated into the space between them, swallowed by smoke. Liliya simply looked at him, cigarette held between her fingers, thumb circling the filter.
That was…rich.
After everything that had happened. After everything that hadn’t.
Hate had been the only thing she’d felt towards her fiancé for a long time now. Resentment. Bitterness. Rage. Up until the very moment he had stood and watched as Nadežda ripped through her mind, when it had finally reached its peak. And after that, apathy. Defeat. Fear. Resignation.
Now, two weeks later, Liliya found herself trapped somewhere in the middle of all of it. Attached to each emotion in equal measure, pulled this way and that, with a mind still frayed at the edges, still broken in places, still searching for the seams to realign.
How she was ever supposed to stop hating Lev Zdravkova, she didn’t know.
Even if it had receded beneath the surface now on most days, even if her aunt’s punishment had ultimately resulted in exactly what he’d wanted—the hatred was always there. Liliya didn’t know if she would ever be able to let it go. And somehow, that made her feel sad all over again.
Her gaze dropped to the cigarette in her hand. She took a drag, watching as Lev nudged his glass to the edge of the table.
"We'll be married soon, and I don't want us to be miserable. I don't expect anything from you, Liliya, but if we could learn to respect each other, then I think we'll be better off.”
Slowly, she exhaled, tapping the ash into the tray.
Didn’t expect anything from her. How very generous. How very ironic. He already expected obedience. Duty. Submission. He expected her to marry him, to bear his children, to stand at his side one day to lead the family. Apparently, all of that didn’t matter, though. As though she had no opinion on any of it.
No autonomy, certainly.
The truth sat like a stone inside her chest, heavy and crushing: the fact that she had no choice, and that none of her feelings would ever matter. She had already tried to fight it all, and look where that had gotten her. So what was left? Obedience, duty, submission.
"If anything it'll keep your aunt off of you, and my father off of me.”
For a while, she said nothing.
Because that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Oleg. Nadežda. Aleksandr. Jailers to both of them. The realisation had been nebulous at first; that day she’d knelt beside Lev on the floor, tending to his bruises. But it had surfaced. He, too, had been hurt for stepping out of line. He, too, had been punished for refusing to obey. They were both prisoners of the same system, just in different ways.
Obedience, duty, submission.
He was shackled to those three words just as much as she was.
And yet, despite all that, they were no equals. Whatever cage they shared, his was furnished with authority, while hers came with the expectation that she would happily accept that fact. She would always be beneath him still. Maybe that was what hurt the most.
Liliya swallowed against the lump in her throat and drew another deep breath of smoke, hoping to kill what threatened to spread beneath her ribs. She exhaled, her gaze lifting to find Lev across the table. Lev. The only future she had. Well, fuck it then. She downed the rest of her drink.
At least the alcohol was finally catching up with her. The future was looking bright.
“Respect.” Liliya shrugged as though the matter were settled, setting her empty glass beside his. “Alright. I’ll keep that bargain up as long as you do.”
A soft grin tugged at her lips as she held his gaze, a spark of mischief glittering behind her eyes. She took the last drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray.
“Keep this up, and I we might actually get somewhere.”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-11-2026
The Enchanted Garden
A Large Non-Descript Courtyard
Belgravia, London
8:00 PM
Belgravia, London
8:00 PM
The garden he'd brought her to, sounded humble and unremarkable to anyone who'd never seen it.
A courtyard, nestled between Victoria Square and Grosvenor Gardens seemed as though it'd be compact and of little interest. In truth, it was as large and expansive to the magical community as the nearby parks, stretching far longer than it should have in the space it appeared to be provided. Entered through a side-gate that only appeared with the wave of a wand, the entire garden sparkled with the splendor of floating lights and endless trellises of ivy and white blooms. Along the carefully lain stone walkways were bushes of lilac and lavender, scenting the air with delicate florals.
Various fountains sprang up through each section, some innately carved statues, others abstract displays that carried the soft sounds of trickling water.
In the center of it all, there was a lively band, and an enormous dancefloor, filled with more young people than could be counted. It was classy and beautiful, but there was no mistaking this was where the glossier side of London's youth came to spirit away their nights.
They'd spent longer at the restaurant than Lev had meant them to, both downing glass after glass, until the waiter had had enough sense to finally cut the two of them off. They'd slowed a bit as the alcohol had really taken its hold, but it was excessive - even for Lev. How he'd managed to apparate them here in one piece was a mystery to anyone, but he'd done it. Now, as they stood within the garden, he reached down without thinking, emboldened by the liquid courage that had taken hold. Linking his fingers between hers, he tugged, leading her to the dancefloor amongst the upbeat music.
"Still have some life left in you?" he asked her as he raised their hands twirling her beneath them.
They'd found common ground, agreeing to treat one another with respect, so long as the other held up their end of it. It was all he could ask for, and all he would ask for. Was it the beginning of some profound romance or even friendship? He didn't pretend to believe so, but for the moment, with his muscles relaxed and all care for propriety washed away beneath the scent of vodka, Lev wanted to feel free.
Tomorrow, he could be the golden Zdravkova son again.
Tonight, he just wanted to be Lev.
“Come on, then,” he said, grin widening as he drew her closer. “You wanted proof.”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-13-2026
Every last bit of awkward unease had long since drowned in the sea of alcohol swimming through her blood, leaving behind the kind of blissful carefreeness that allowed her to exist in Lev’s presence as though their past had never meant a thing. Pushed to the outskirts of her memory and barred there, almost harmless.
Gradually, over dinner and a couple more drinks, as conversation flowed more easily and their waiter stopped by more often, Lev had become nothing more than her cousin. Her fiancé. The man she had decided to go out with tonight. A strange thought, but her thoughts had been blurring together for a while now, and Liliya paid it little mind. Right now, everything felt easy. Meaningless. Fun. She had no intention of ruining that. She hadn’t been this drunk in a very long time. Feet a little unsteady. Smile a little too wide. Every bit of sorrow forgotten.
It almost seemed silly now.
When Lev reached for her hand, fingers intertwining, Liliya let him without a second thought. Her grin broadened, and she twirled beneath their joined hands, a drunken giggle escaping as she followed the tug of his hand. Her free hand settled on his shoulder, eyes alight.
“You have no idea,” she said, the second time that evening, though now the words were laced with considerably more mischief, bordering on flirtatious. Like a hundred times before, Liliya fell into position as naturally as though this were merely another dance at another pureblood function. Only it wasn’t. The music was too upbeat, the atmosphere too loose, and the distance between them far smaller than it ought to have been. Liliya barely registered any of it, too busy grinning like an idiot, right up at Lev.
“Prove it, then.”
And she let him sweep her into motion, still unconvinced of his earlier claim, despite the alcohol that seemed to make everything more believable somehow. Even the deal they’d struck over dinner. Respect.
Could they do it? Could he?
Part of her thought, perhaps, desperately wished so even, more than she would ever admit aloud. But it was hard not to imagine a life in which this might one day be normal. Laughing together, feeling at ease, moving without every interaction becoming a war to be won. Maybe they could be like this. Maybe he could be.
A good dancer, however?
Ludicrous.
Liliya let her gaze wander above his head, momentarily distracted by the floating lights scattered across the garden. “I like it here,” she said, her voice a little quieter, a silly little smile lingering on her lips. “That’s two out of two. Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-15-2026
“You have no idea."
He really didn't. When she'd said it earlier that evening, he'd drifted away from the words, not absorbing them likely the way she had meant him to. There was no denying the resentment that existed between them, each for different reasons, but now, standing here in this garden with the sensation of invincibility taking hold, none of it seemed to matter.
She was just a girl, smiling up at him, her giggle floating on the winter air to caress his ears in the sweetest way. Had she always looked like this? Had he been too angry to notice? Had he missed the sweetness behind her smile, or had she just never shown it to him? If they'd been introduced on more neutral terms, would they have had time to just be friends first and find interest in the little things about each other?
Could they now? Did they want to?
“Prove it, then.”
He loved a challenge. There'd never been one presented to him that Lev didn't rise to meet. He pulled her closer against his chest, ignoring the warmth that flowed from her body to his, and swept her out across the floor. He was prepared for the faster beat, but no sooner had they begun, the music slowed to something a little more intimate. It was as though Gospod himself was pulling the strings, watching their every movement, apparently full on the nonsense the two had piled on each other for the better part of three years.
“I like it here. That’s two out of two. Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”
He smiled, one arm coming to rest on her lower back as his other held tightly to her hand. "I have a lot in me," he teased, an almost boyish twinkle showing itself behind blue eyes. "I can be fun. Do you think work is all I do?" Probably. She'd never seen his fun side. He saved that for his brothers, his friends....other girls. Perhaps she deserved to see it to. He swung her around gently, gliding them between the other couples, his gaze on her as he watched her eyes illuminate against the lights overhead.
"What about you díkaya?" He released her hand only for a moment, forgetting himself as he reached to brush a strand of hair away that had fallen over her eyes. "Do you have it in you?"
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-15-2026
"I have a lot in me. I can be fun. Do you think work is all I do?”
Liliya’s gaze drifted back to Lev’s, an amused smirk curling her lips as she raised a brow. “Yes, actually,” she said without missing a beat, honesty apparently having become her best friend over the past two hours. “That is exactly what I think.”
And wasn’t he?
She rarely saw him outside the gatherings they were forced to attend together, the occasional family meal, or accidental run-ins in their sitting room or along a hallway at Harewood House. From what little he’d allowed her to glimpse, Liliya had always assumed he spent his time at Argentum Memoriae, Oleg’s office, or tending to whatever other business demanded his attention. Day in, day out. A working machine. A soldier. An emotionless shell that did as told and nothing more. Stoic, cold, driven.
Liliya had never stopped to wonder whether he was anything else.
Even now, the thought felt oddly incomprehensible. What did Lev do when he allegedly wasn’t working? Did he have interests? A favourite bar? Inside jokes? Stories he liked to retell? Did he have friends?
She could hardly imagine it.
But here they were, weren’t they? Out at his suggestion, in a place he had chosen, dancing as though all this came naturally to him. Flowers. Dinner. Music. A looseness about him she was wholly unfamiliar with, a man she’d never met before.
And there was this gleam in his eyes, a gentleness to his smile. Even the way he guided them across the dance floor, easy and smooth, seemed to belong to a side of him that must have always existed, even if she’d never seen it. Perhaps if she weren’t so drunk, Liliya might have found insult in that.
As it stood, however, enjoyment won out.
"What about you díkaya?”
He let go of her hand and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, the touch so gentle she almost leaned into it. Part of her wanted to, but for some reason, she didn’t. The nickname curved her smile a little deeper, though.
"Do you have it in you?”
Yet again, he really had no fucking idea.
“I’m almost certain you’d rather not know just how much I have in me,” Liliya chuckled, eyes dancing with open amusement. “Not sure if you could take it. Might give you a culture shock.” Her grin widened into something distinctly teasing. “Unless you want to find out.”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-20-2026
“That is exactly what I think.”
It only caused his lips to grow wider as he led her across the dancefloor. While some may have been perturbed at the insinuation, it only amused him. Good. He could deal with her assumptions and prove them wrong - or right - one by one. In the grand scheme of things, believing he only worked wasn't terribly off-base. He did work, more than he did anything else, but much of that had to do with his father and his age.
His siblings weren't old enough to take on any real role in the business yet, which left the majority of it on his shoulders.
He did get out though. Occasionally he took weekends back to Russia to visit with his old friends. He had a group he went out with here in London from time to time. They were always a good time, but Lev was the sort that also enjoyed his own company just fine, and didn't need to be surrounded by people. He was young though, and while he'd never been a huge partier, he enjoyed the nightlife with his friends as much as any other bloke.
“I’m almost certain you’d rather not know just how much I have in me."
"That might be true," he agreed, not unkindly, but with a soft amusement that echoed their history. He'd seen what he'd thought was enough to get an understanding of the girl, but as it turned out, people were flawed. They were layered. What they showed on the surface wasn't always indicative of what lay beneath. That much had been made clear to him when he'd stumbled back from his father's office and found himself being tended to by the girl who'd always hated him.
There was more to her, just as there was more to him. Did he think there was a deep cavern of personality beneath her colder surface, just waiting for him to uncover?
He...wasn't sure. But the way she was smiling at him - it did something to him that he couldn't recognize one way or another.
“Not sure if you could take it. Might give you a culture shock. Unless you want to find out.”
His smile curled into something almost impressed, his eyebrows raising at the invitation. When had Lev Zdravkova ever backed down from a challenge? He certainly couldn't recall a time in his recent memory, but alcohol had certainly done its job in tearing all unpleasantness from the forefront of his mind.
"And what would finding out look like?" His own tease mirrored his. "I'm game for whatever you are."
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-22-2026
"And what would finding out look like? I'm game for whatever you are.”
Liliya tipped her head back and laughed before she could stop herself, light and easy, bursting from her throat in cadences of unrestrained delight. For a moment, she let herself bask in it, watching the bobbing lights blur against the night sky as Lev twirled her beneath them. Her laughter lingered on her breath when she brought her gaze back to his.
“I honestly doubt that last part,” she said brightly, letting the words hang between them as her expression settled into cheery amusement. “Have you ever done anything that wasn’t planned three months in advance? Anything spontaneous?”
She grinned at him as she paused, studying his face as though she might find something written there—what exactly, she didn’t know. A spark, perhaps. Some sign that he was more than schedules, obligations, and duty.
Widening her eyes, Liliya arched her brows as her voice dropped into something more conspiratorial. “Reckless?”
Another giggle followed, and Liliya closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the blind sway of Lev’s guidance across the dance floor.
Did he have that in him? Spontaneous recklessness? Doing something simply for the pleasure of it, regardless of the consequence? For the thrill of the risk?
God, she missed it.
The thrill. The rush of adrenaline right before she did something she knew she shouldn’t, the surge of exhilaration that followed, the dizzying high as the results unfolded before her, and the warm, trickling sensation of riding it out until the currents died down and carried her back to the shore.
She had once lived moments like that. Freely. The last time, her entire world had been on the verge of tipping over—the uncontrolled, wild orphan girl to the restrained, caged pureblood heiress. Before her name had changed, and before she had stopped reaching for the things that made her feel alive. Before she had begun to become someone else. A lifetime ago.
Liliya sighed softly. Her eyes opened, and she looked up at Lev, the corners of her mouth still faintly curled. Was she getting more drunk? Who knew. She’d ride this high as long as she could as well.
For a moment, she simply watched him. Then, her head tilted, and a slow, mischievous smile spread across her face.
“Wanna do something spontaneous right now?”
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Lev Zdravkova - 10-23-2026
Her laugh sparkled out of her, rising from her chest, and for a moment Lev though he could see the sound riding on tiny stars. Whether from the alcohol that now sloshed away any good sense he once possessed, or because he was merely enchanted at seeing his fiancée in a way he'd never thought to, Lev's own expression softened. His smile dropped lightly into something almost purely sincere, his eyes washing over her face as every movement rose and fell.
It exposed her neck, lean and ivory, calling to him in a way that alarmed him. He swallowed hard, relief flooding him when she turned her gaze to him once more. The thudding in his chest unnerved him, enough to have him falter at her last question.
Had he...what? Spontaneous? Did he have room for such a thing? He supposed this was probably as spontaneous as he deigned to be these days, but for the fun of it? When was there time? What if spontaneity resulted in mistakes? No. No, it was unthinkable. Lev planned for everything. He controlled everything he was allowed to, which in practice, was very little. "No," he answered honestly, but his smile raised again, softer this time.
“Reckless?”
Reckless? Lev tilted his head slightly, having never considered the word before. His eyes studied Liliya's trying to see if she meant it? If she wanted the real answer? "Subjective." He twirled her again, slower this time, admiring the way the emerald of her dress danced with the warm lighting.
No, he didn't suppose he went out of his way to do reckless things as a rule. But recently? What had he done that wasn't reckless? What had he done that hadn't twisted his insides, whether it was at Liliya's bedside or beneath his father's fist?
“Wanna do something spontaneous right now?”
Slowly, the young man's smile spread wider. It wasn't something he'd ever been asked before. "Like what?"
RE: Harewood House - Neon Lights | Levilia - Liliya Zdravkova - 10-24-2026
No. Lev Zdravkova was not the spontaneous type. Liliya knew that without his response. He wasn't the sort to surrender control and let a moment carry him away, or the reckless kind who acted on impulse and did something he shouldn’t just because he felt like it. Everything was planned. Organized. Correct.
Did he ever feel as she did? Trapped? Restless in this cage, itching to break a rule, overstep a line, push at a boundary just to feel something other than the weight of his obligations? Or did he like it this way? Did he ever long to feel alive?
Liliya watched Lev’s smile widen. There was something almost innocent and naive in the way he asked that question, a hint of genuine curiosity, as though he couldn’t quite imagine what she might possibly have in mind. A barely chained chaos began to rattle at its shackles. Whether he wanted to or not, Lev was about to find out.
The glint that sparked in her eyes belonged wholly and entirely to Eira alone.
Without answering, Liliya let go of Levv’s hand and turned just far enough to survey their surroundings, searching for the first thing that caught her fancy. It didn’t take long. The bar was practically begging for it. Mischief burned in her eyes as Liliya turned back to Lev. “Just run when I run.”
Before he could ask or complain, her hand found his, and she tugged him after her. She didn’t explain as they approached the bar, releasing him only when they reached the counter. With an angelic smile, she folded her hands atop it.
“What will it be, Miss?”
The bartender raised his brows at her, and Liliya glanced past him at the shelf behind his head. She pointed to one of the bottles perched near the top. “Whatever that is.”
The moment the man turned to retrieve it, Liliya bent over the counter and snatched the first two bottles of liquor she could reach from beneath it. “Now,” she half-giggled, half-gasped at Lev, and then she was off. She bolted for the gate, laughter spilling from her lips, both bottles clutched against her chest. Somewhere from behind, a startled shout rang out. Liliya ignored it, focused instead on getting them out before anyone could stop them.
A sharp tug wrenched one of the bottles from her grasp.
Her fingers uselessly grappled for the bottle as it zoomed over her shoulder and back towards the bar, Accio-ed away. “Duck!” she called to Lev, laughter threatening to steal the breath from her lungs. Thankfully, she still had one bottle left. Tightening her grip on the remaining prize, Liliya kept running.
She didn’t check to see whether Lev obeyed, trusting his agility and sense for self-preservation. A second later, she was through the gate, one hand catching the ironwork to swing herself around the corner and propel them onto the street beyond.
She ran until her lungs burned. At last, she slowed, stumbling to a halt with a gasp, cheeks flushed and grin impossibly wide. For a moment, she could do nothing but laugh. Her free hand found Lev’s again, fingers closing around his as she dragged in ragged breaths. “You need to apparate us away,” she managed. “High up. I don’t think I can do it.”
Another shout echoed from down the street.
Liliya glanced around Lev, eyes widening at the sight of their pursuer barreling towards them. Adrenaline surged through her like wildfire, and she huddled against Lev, giggling madly as her fingers tightened around his.
“Quick!”