Tick. Tick. Tick. The grandfather clock, positioned in the corner, echoed the nearly empty bar that occupied the ground level of Batra's Inn. The woman's nails rapt against the countertop, their rhythm matching the pulse of the secondhand.

Long green locks shadowed the woman's visage, as she sat at the bar, charcoal colored orbs peered into the dark liquid pooled in the mug in front of her. She had been nursing the drink for a while, but still nearly half the mug remained full.

She had been stirred by a nightmare nearly an hour prior, and had promptly delivered herself downstairs. She knew that if she attempted to go back to sleep, the nightmares would continue, and be followed by terrors, which she was certain would be coupled by screams and shrieks. Ari was too courteous of the other patrons of this establishment  to allow that to happen, which is why she was staring into the depths of her coffee.

She was deep in trance-like contemplation, the gentle purse and pull of her lips suggesting silent whispers deaf to even her own ears. It wasn't until the booming chime of the grandfather clock, that the woman's attention was pulled from this contemplation.

There was only a single chime, a suggestion of the time. "Only one, huh?" The words were audible, as they pressed past her lips. She let out a soft sigh. It was going to be quite a while before the sun would rise again.

She allowed her sleepy orbs to return to the coffee, before she rose the mug to her lips, tilting back the now cold liquid.

If, on a winter's night.

The man's journey to Crocus had been one unmarred by the misfortunes that often befalls travelers, or so one hears; he had not been attacked by a wild pack of wolves in the night, robbers did not attempt to mug him when he decided to take an ''off the map'' shortcut, nor did orphaned children steal from him while he slept. All in all, it was an uneventful, but not altogether unpleasant journey, and here he was now in the capital. He had made it to Crocus in relatively good time too, the sun was just beginning to wane, but still he had enough time to find a suitable inn to bunk down for the night. On the recommendation of some kind locals, Houren found himself outside the lodging establishment known as Batra's Inn, peerless even among all the inns of the holy capital.

The room that he had been assigned was conveniently close to the staircase, and such favorable treatment stirred a certain curiosity in Houren's heart, as he was not used to fortune taking his side; perhaps the kindly innkeeper was aware that he had traveled from quite a distance to be here?

Houren would never know, yes, but he was glad to have chosen this place to lodge at for his brief stay at the capital. It was rather late when the Fairy Tail mage managed to 'settle' down in his new room, having begun the tedious act of unpacking, only to fall asleep while folding a rather colorful pair of undergarments. When he awoke, the sun had long since set, and as though it had been willed by the innkeeper himself, the crescent moon was visible from the window in Houren's room; with the exception of the moonlight that was bathing one side of his bed, the room was in complete darkness.

It would have been easy, exceptionally simple, for Houren to simply shut his eyes and return to his peaceful sleep, but the heavy groaning of his stomach prevented him from doing just that. Houren gathered his thoughts and returned to his feet, giving the soft kisses of serene slumber a rain check by doing so. Kicking one of his unpacked luggage bags to the side, the Fairy tail mage exited the room and headed towards the restaurant and bar that was located on the first floor of the inn; his steps were rushed and heavy, at a hurried walking pace that did not befit a gentleman, yet that only emphasized just how hungry Houren must have been.

The place was practically empty when he arrived, and it was worth noting that his indifferent features did not reveal just how much of a rush he had been. "Of course," he murmured under his breath, catching a glimpse of the outrageous time of night it was on the equally indifferent face of a grandfather clock that was in the room. The early risers and beauty queens have long since gone to sleep, and even the night owls were likely in their rooms, either slowly drifting to their zany dreamland. At this time of night, the bar served only insomniacs, nocturnal beings, and well, him.

Houren took a seat at the bar and knocked on the glossed wooden counter with his knuckle. "Milk coffee, and can you be generous with the sugar, please?" he inquired, using both hands to gesture that he wanted ten spoonfuls of sugar. It was an unusual order, he knew, but it was the version of coffee he enjoyed most, and the one that earned him the most stares, which never really did sit that well with him. Determined not to be misunderstood, he shifted to face the green-haired girl that had been sitting in a seat close to his own.

"Life is bitter, so coffee, at least, should be sweet," he gave a languid smile.

In the same regard that the booming voice of the grandfather clock had drawn her attention, her new bar mate had kept it. Grey eyes shifted from the clock's visage to that of the man who had sat himself in Ari's proximity, the rapt of his knuckles against the glossy finish of the counter, and his particular order had piqued her interest, the outstretched digits emphasizing exactly how he wanted his order. Lips pursed subtly as she imagined the taste of such a drink, the sweetness paired with the creamy milk coffee-- she couldn't decide if it would be delicious, or disgusting-- though she was quite certain that it would be either one or the other.

The man seemed content with his order, as he shifted in her direction-- his words an attempt to justify the decadence of his commission. Had Ari the energy or capacity to smile back at the man, she would have returned his languid grin with a smirk of her own, but as always such expressiveness failed her. Instead, she allowed her head to tilt forward in a nod. It was not one necessarily of agreement, but rather of recognition, a silent signal that she heard and understood the words that pressed past his lips.

She allowed such words to settle into stillness between them for a moment, though the smoke colored orbs did not stray from the man's form. She knew that most likely the silence would be interpreted as the contemplation of a response, rather than her curiosity of why the man seemed familiar to her. She wasn't sure if it was the tone of his voice, or the shape of his face, or both that hinted at recognition. She suppressed the thought, for the time being, in order to respond.

"At the very least, I'm sure a sugar rush will only aide in the alertness the caffeine will provide." she began with a shrug, picking up her own mug, of the cold, bitter fluid. Her voice was bright and cheerful, a stark comparison to her near-expressionless countenance. "Though... It is certainly a bold choice, particularly so early in the morning. It's not one that most people would make, if they had any hope of sleeping..." she trailed off some, giving him time for a response-- some justification... some mutual bereavement of sleep, or at the very least, whatever he was willing to offer her in an exchange. As she waited, her eyes would narrow, though the shift was subtle enough to remain unnoticed, the suppressed suspicion of his familiarity surged back into her psyche.

''I'm sorry, I...''

He stood without warning, his long fingers grasped at nothing on the varnished counter surface, as his mind began to flow in and out of consciousness. It was one of those spells again. He had pushed his body too much during his travels from Magnolia to Crocus, it seemed, and while he had managed to get by simply on adrenaline and willpower, the reaper of exhaustion was coming back to collect his due, and in the most inappropriate of times. Houren wasn't particularly worried himself, since this had happened before; it wasn't something that a good night's sleep couldn't fix, but he felt somewhat sorry for his bar mate, the person who, out of what he assumed to be the goodness in her heart, had seemed willing to spend her night idling away with him here in this bar.

It wouldn't be long until he completely passed out, and murmuring some simple excuse that he would not remember in the morning, he began shuffled away, fortunate not to have knocked down his coffee concoction or the stool he had been sitting on. He used his left hand to rub his temple vigorously in a desperate bid to stay awake. He would allow his body to crash and shut down completely for the night once he reached his room; he didn't even need the bed, just crumpling into a heap on the carpeting of his small room was enough for him. As he walked past her, the center of his back began to burn ever so slightly and he suddenly remembered where he had seen her before.

Their meetings had always been short, so insignificant that she probably did not remember them at the end of the day. The Fairy Tail guildhall was a lively place, after all, and simple courtesies like 'good morning' and 'afternoon!' were often taken for granted. Yes, he had definitely said something along those lines to her once, and probably received a fitting greeting in response. That was the extent of their relationship, superficial really, but he still felt somewhat ashamed at having forgotten the voice, the face, the figure of a fellow guild mate.

"I'll make it up to you the next time so... well, until then," he left the bar, found the prospect of climbing the stairs too daunting, before falling asleep in an adjacent storage room.