"Oh I Would Love To Meet Her! You Think You Could Introduce Us?" Her Eyes Widened In Excitement, A Gasp

"Hey! Like everything about me, my vision is perfect. I do not have a single physical flaw."

Serra's parents always told her so from the moment she was born, so that stuck with her. They didn't want her to run the shop, which was a good thing because she didn't want to run it either. It was better off left to the employees, they could get their hands dirty. Working was not for her. Even the idea of it seemed exhausting. She liked having her free time to do whatever she pleased. Like shopping and relaxing.

Regulus had truthfully never been a fan of events like this, especially weddings. He had never seen much of a point at all in them and he wasn't disillusioned to the fact that they were only an excuse to make people pay attention to you. He was also just becoming so tired of the extravagance. He felt like weddings were the only things his family talked about now. Bellas, Narcissa', his, it was just so exhausting. He'll just be glad when its all finally over and done with. He's stealthy in the way he grabs a glass of wine off a waiters tray, not that it would have been an issue, but, its one less person to talk to if he wasn't seen, all to turn and see Serra of all people ready to greet him. Really though, Serra wasn't bad company, at least compared to most of the people on the guest list she wasn't "Hey," He greeted with a smile. "Well, I've not been hiding, maybe you need your eyes checked." He teased lightly.

location: flint and vanity wedding status: open for everyone

"Have you seen some of the dresses people came in here with? it is a shame that taste is not something that everyone's been born with." Serra grimaced, her tone pitiying letting her eyes glance over a woman in a black feathered dress. It looked like she wanted to emulate a raven and failed terribly.

"Wonderfully. With lots of champagne." She sighed wistfully, already missing the beautiful city she got to call home for a few short months. It had more charm and elegance than London did. It felt more refined.

"I ran into him on the street as I was going to visit my father at the shop. He said something about me looking much better here than I would in Paris, so I said I would look good everywhere. Because that is a fact." The last bit was said as an afterthought. "He's been begging for forgiveness for years. With all the jewellery and dresses he's been buying me. I have yet to see him on his knees though."

"How did Paris treat you? Too many hours spent at the Avenue des Champs-Elysées" Willa asked intrigued, quietly thanking the waitress as two teapots were sat in front of the pair. Serra understood Willa's love for the finer things in life, and while most would expect their attitudes to clash, in fact it made quite the harmonious balance.

Pouring tea for herself and Serra, Willa's eyebrow quirked in response the the mention of Malcolm Parkinson. Back at Hogwarts, Willa recalled first talking to Serra after the commotion between Serra and Malcolm, and of course, Charity Burbage. She was slightly older, but that didn't stop word from spreading. "What happened?" Setting the teapot back down, she looked back at her friend. "I sure hope that he begged for forgiveness."

"I am indeed. I do apologise for not sending a letter ahead of my arrival, but it was all rather sudden." Her parents had taught her better manners than that but she had been quite impatient and had decided to just stop by instead of bothering to send a letter and then wait for a reply. This was more efficient.

"I had an idea for this dark dress, perhaps navy or even black, big skirt and some sort of sparkling fabric that looked like the night sky." She could picture it in her head already.

There was joy within her features, a smile lighting up her eyes when she spotted the other witch. Oh, their shared history had turned into a rather wonderful little thing. The last she’d seen the other the blonde had made sure to confirm said internship. And what a joy it had been. “You’re back in London. Look at that.” Leta pointed toward the back of the shop as she motioned for the shop clerk to tend to the rest of the show room.

“Come on, tell me about that dress of yours. And about Paris. And everything else one needs to know. I’ll make sure to fit it in somehow, even if it may take a moment.” Leta Rosier felt no hostility toward the other witch. In fact, whatever games had been played by others were entirely up to them. They had walked separate paths and eventually they had become on; and the seamstress was more than happy with it. - @serraborgin

"Those are two of my favorite words. Closely following diamonds and presents." She had never made an attempt in faking humility, she'd never be any good at it. Serra oozed privilege and high standards, spending money and never wondering if it would stop coming.

"You would assume so, but alas.." She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "They have always liked him, but come on."

"You had me at champagne and shopping," Willa smiled warmly, lifting her cup of tea and taking a small sip. While her father did provide Willa and her mother, the difference between Willa and her peers was evident. She had enough to live a lavish life in London, but not quite Paris.

"Your birthday party seems very harsh," She stated, surprised. "And quite a public setting too, would it not have been smarter to organise something a bit more private?" Willa knew if it was her ex, she would much rather an intimate setting to reunite.

If there was one thing that was constant, it was her dislike of Alara. The two of them had never gotten along, despite their parents trying to force them together at every family event growing up. It only made Serra dislike her more. "Please, you wish your hands looked as well maintained as mine. Here I thought you'd be proud of your workers hands." She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't want to be in charge. But they'd totally leave me to it if I wanted to be." Which was a lie.

One would think cousins were close, and she would have wished that, considering they were close in age, yet the opposite happened — driving them apart. Azure hues glance down at her perfectly manicured nails, keeping them tidy for work. "I'd hate to take it away from you. Your claws really need working on." A sweet smile on her features. "You sure about that?" It shouldn't come this naturally to insult family like this. "You are here, in the shop, and I can assume they would not leave you in charge." The place would surely burn to the ground if she was left alone to her own devices.

@alaraselwyn

For all her effort in acting blasé and cool, she was more nervous than she let on. Especially when he was so close to her. He was a handsome man after all, someone she was interested in rather than a boy not worthy of her time. "I think I could definitely think of something." A masquerade would be fun and she knew her parents wouldn't deny her if she wanted to throw a party. She was focused on him fully. He was in her space now, standing centimeters away.

"Perhaps I do, but only if you care for me." Women of her standing had certain standards and he was a prime example of an eligible bachelor, but she wanted him to admit that he liked he first, simply for her ego's sake she wanted to hear him say it. While she hadn't planned on settling down anytime soon before she met him, he had definitely captured her interested. His intensity was intriguing to her. "It interests me very much." Truthfully she was only half listening, his closeness distracting her.

He smiled. It was both cute and impressive the way she held his gaze.  He got closer to her arm’s length then a bit closer. “Too bad, but as long as it’s hosted and I got an invitation I don’t think I would care too much, you could always find a way to make it up to me.”  He moved close, demanding what was left of her attention.  Despite being surrounded by outfits, that made him smile too.  He dared to move a hand to her cheek, touch light, but firm. He wondered idly if her challenge of his gaze would falter at the open intimacy. She had earned a bit of his attention in return especially if she was serious about the masquerade. “Do you care for me Serra, the way you’re blushing I think you might, or might wish to. Does it excite you to be the one to make such a choice? A young woman’s heart is a precious, yet fickle gift, are you sure you wish to entangle it with a cruel old thing like me? I can promise you a whirlwind romance, it will not be easy, but you won’t be bored.  Pressed to the edges of comfort and strength.  You can only truly be pampered after you feel too tired to take care of yourself. Does this interest you?”

#Legend

She stayed until she saw the expression of horror on Charity's face. That made it oh so worth it. With satisfaction she thought that the blonde got what she deserved. Her high didn't last long as Charity followed her into the hallway, a crowd forming due to their argument. People couldn't help but be nosey. "You are trying to take what's mine! You're the used goods." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I am not desperate! He likes me! Not you!" The retourt came automatically, fully believing her own words. Never having been in a physical fight before she hadn't expected Charity to punch her, much less in the face. A scream of pain left her lips as her eyes started to well up with tears. "Salazar! What is wrong with you? You're crazy! You ruined my face!" Serra started to panic, barely seeing where she was walking due to the tears, trying to make her way to the hospital wing when she ran into a chest, the smell familiar. Malcolm. What was he doing here? He couldn't see her like this! Her voice whiny and barely comprehensible to due to the crying. "Don't look at me!"

She was very much used to being called names, insults didn't hit that hard these days for she'd learned that biting back was immensely more fun. Serra was the kind of person who believed herself to be above others, as though they were better just for the sake of it, and the witch had called her ugly many times, so when the new insults flowed from her lips, it did Charity no harm. It wasn't so until she looked up and saw her hair in the mirror, the last straw as she'd take no more mistreating on her part, not when she held the upper hand this time. The witch followed the other into the hallway, her voice loud for everyone to hear. "Wow, cheap, easy, desperate. Darling, are you sure you're not referring to yourself? Easy to get flustered, cheap enough to want used goods and desperate to go back to someone who's clearly not into you." She took a step further, grabbing Serra by the arm and forcing her to turn around and face her. "You're thinking he went for the ugly one, right? Let me help you then, become the ugly one instead." She mused, a smile flashing on her lips right in time as her fist came in touch with her nose, a nice strong blow.