date: 19th june? 20th? dates?, 1925
location: random unknown speakeasy
closed to @tcbedestroyedâ
âso⊠dâyou come here often?â
as far as introductory lines went, peterâs was far from original, and hardly the most engaging, but it was difficult, what with his line of work and the constant uncertainty that accompanied it, for him to feel normalcy or some semblance of it, and act in the same measure â the higher the marauders climbed and the more that they did, the greater the risk, so nowadays he found himself questioning each new person that crossed his path and stayed there.
rabastan was⊠an outlier, for what valid and practical reasons, he didnât know (there were none); maybe it was nothing more than the desperation in peter to make a friend outside of the messy, bootlegging world, someone who could let him know if the grass was greener on the other side so he could actually consider jumping the fence towards it. their first meeting was fine enough, but even then there was the dull clanging of alarm bells in the back of his head warning him against something, the subtle offness of this man with his charming smile and nonchalant attitude⊠and heâd ignored it then just as he ignored it tonight, sharing drinks and conversations with the same man at the same speakeasy theyâd had their first encounter at. by the time he was ready to leave, the slightest buzz was coiling around his head, and he was eager to simply go home, fall into bed, and sleep till noon the next day.
âyou heading out?â he asked gruffly, pushing his empty glass up the bar and getting to his feet, ready to leave. it was a habit of his to walk the city streets alone, lost in thought and memory, but he could sacrifice one night of that to walk with a⊠friend? acquaintance? as peter held open the door for him, he thought that maybe this would be his chance to get to know rabastan further, see if a friendship really was possible.
after all, it was just a walk⊠whatâs the worst that could happen?
here is the thing: rabastan had never really been one to have friends.
it wasnât obvious, falling through the cracks when he had attended those fancy schools his parents sent him too and being a little higher up than the average joe in the death eater hierarchy. so when he met peter, rabastan thought of maybe having a real friend. one that was rough around the edges, but still a friend. that illusion was shattered when regulus had given him his task. rabastan preferred his wild goose chase, his position behind the bar- no, he wasnât getting soft. there was no room to be soft.
he didnât even know peter was a criminal, although it never occurred to him that maybe he shouldnât judge the book by the cover. as much as a he liked the guy, however, he knew where his allegiances lied. peter was nice to have a drink with, sure, but regulus was nice to spend the rest of his life with. the list of pros and cons was obvious in this scenario, and the puzzle pieces all clicked in to place once peter held open the door for him.
âyeah,â once out of the establishment, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket. that nasty habit he had to kick, especially when he felt the jitters creep up. iâm not getting soft. no, not at all. âyou happen to be headinâ this direction?â he said around it, motioning down the street. an arbitrary direction, but it wouldnât matter.
