Hung over, hair sticking up in all sorts of unacceptable direction, pillow marks still relatively visible on his face, Reid managed to drag himself out of bed and into respectable(ish) clothes, stopping by the bathroom just long enough to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face, attempting to rub away the red from his eyes (nevermind the
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"You know I always look fantastic," she assured him, wrapping her favorite mint scarf around her neck. The coffee had helped but there was still a dull throb in her head that only pancakes could fix. "And you look just adorable, as usual."
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"I'm forever in your debt and I owe you a new shirt," she promised, taking a sip of her drink.
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He shrugged, finally grabbing at the menu in front of him, rather pointlessly flipping it open. He'd be getting the eggs benedict with a side of sausage and extra homestyle potatoes, obviously. But still, perusing the menu for the sake of brushing off all other subpar options was part of the tradition.
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Skylar looked over the menu, even though she knew what she was getting. Every Sunday Skylar treated herself to the breakfast sampler - two pancakes, two eggs, bacon, sausage, homestyle potatoes. Her mouth was watering.
"I need extra pancakes this week. Somehow two doesn't seem sufficient to soak up this hang over."
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Sure, he could have been ordering his own short stack. But they always seemed to taste better when they were being snatched from across the table, the added challenge of making it past her swatting hands somehow a better seasoning than any type of syrup.
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"The usual?" she asked, already noticing that they had finished off the first round of drinks. "And two more mimosas?"
This was one of the reasons they liked it here. Skylar liked the service and she liked being remembered. The two of them weren't any other type of customer here.
"Better make everything doubled. It was a really rough morning," Skylar admitted, handing over her menu. Really, she wasn't even sure why they bothered giving them a menu at all.
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He laid back in his chair as their waiter walked off, stretching his legs out beneath the table. "Any plans for the rest of the day, then?" he asked, letting his gaze wander across the room, casually observing the crowd.
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"Actually, I was thinking of popping in on Harry this afternoon," she admitted, giving Reid a knowing look.
Her relationship with Harry had been interesting, thus far. Mostly late night hook ups that never pulled through into the morning. It wasn't often they saw each other in the day light, but when they did, he was pulling her off to a secluded area.
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If there was anything that had been a constant in his and Skylar's long friendship, it was that things always came back to Harry freakin' Potter. From schoolgirl crush to hero-worship admiration to, as things now seemingly stood, booty call/fuck buddy dynamics, he had always taken up some kind of space in Skylar's life. Reid had never particularly understood what all the fuss was about, but he did get a kick out of hearing about his girl's exploits.
He wasn't, however, so much a fan of the imbalance he knew existed where the two's feelings were concerned. It was all fun and games until Skylar's emotions got fucked with.
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It was true, Skylar had returned their fifth year after DA practice over the moon when Harry had kissed her. She was practically squealing. But then Ginny had moved in....Skylar was pushed aside.
"I will not be pushed aside all over again, Reid."
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Skylar reached her arm across the table, extending her pinky finger. They had always pinky promised anything that mattered.
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Not that he was hoping it wouldn't work out. But after everything, he had simply grown wary of the Boy Who Lived's intentions. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the emotional wreckage of their fifth year on his hands.
"Promise."
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As much as she pined over him, it was true that the girl owned it to herself to move past him if it didn't work out. She had already lost too many years, missed out on so many opportunities.
"Then it's settled."
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"Ugh, brilliant, thank you." Reid turned hungrily to the magnificent display that was the plate that had just been slid in front of him, already picking up his knife and fork and bracing himself for the oncoming attack.
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"Wonderful. This looks great," she said, immediately picking up a crispy piece of bacon.
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