"What's That Supposed To Mean?" She Raised An Eyebrow, Haughty Look On Her Face. As Always, She Wasn't

"I think so too. If anyone deserves a party in their honor, it's me. I am practically perfect." A statement like that couldn't be said with humility and she didn't even bother to feign it. Serra was sure of herself and her qualities, insecurity was an unfamiliar concept. "Depends on if I like how it looks." She shrugged her shoulders softly, her eyes focusing on the present once more. "Do continue talking, I love multiple presents.

His gaze flickering down to their arms as she took hold of his, Evan offered the younger witch a reassuring smile before starting towards one of the balconies. "I think it wise to take any opportunity to be celebrated as you're very much deserving." The wizard's compliment sneaked through his lips with ease, green eyes gleaming with mischief as they met hers. "Not just yet, but I could definitely get my flirt on, long as I get to see you wearing my gift some time soon?" He wondered, coming to a halt as they were out of the main hall, his grin growing wider at her words. "It should, and I could most certainly make it entirely about you. Now that I'm thinking more into it, perhaps there's another gift I could give you."

@themalcolmparkinson

location: malfoy wedding status: for @alaraselwyn

"I guess congratulations are in order. For you that is. I'll be sure to personally give Evan my condolences for being stuck with you." Her smile was saccharine as she looked over at her cousin, her eyes blatently trying to figure out how many carats the engagement ring on Alara's finger had.

"Well then try it and tell me what you think of it." She knew Mira had good taste, certainly better than that younger sister of hers had ever displayed. Then again, few could be as excellent as she could, competing would be hard for anyone. Especially someone that inferior. "Thank you. So do you. I like your dress, the color suits your complexion."

While Mira wouldn't openly admit it, she hadn't really wanted to attend the party. There was too much going on, too much turmoil for her to truly enjoy herself. Still it would have been unacceptable not to make an appearance, and so she'd arrived with a smile on her lips and a small wrapped present in hand, adding it to the already growing pile that had been left for the birthday girl. She snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray, taking a drink as she watched her cousin make her way over to her. "I just grabbed a glass actually. Happy Birthday Serra, you look gorgeous tonight."

"I suppose that's right. I think it is important to be a perfectionist about yourself first and foremost. Appearances matter. How is someone supposed to take you seriously if your hair isn't styled or your outfit is all wrinkled? If you cannot even be trusted to take care of yourself, how are you supposed to handle anything else?" If there was one thing she could do, it was talk about herself. She liked the way he complimented her, it felt thought out. She could hear how gorgeous she was a thousand times over, but this was nice too.

"I am already polished, but I suppose I could make myself available if you make it worth my while." She had a busy life of doing nothing after all. His gaze mesmerised her, biting her lip at the intensity she found in it.

"You are very good with your words, you know?"

“Any subject can be interesting if executed well or in an interesting way, it’s one reason you are so attention grabbing.  People can say what they will, but they could never accuse you of being anything less than a perfectionist especially when it comes to yourself.”  He kept his eyes glued to her as they turned about, sparing no more than an odd glance to keep them centered, it wouldn’t do to trip or drop her. “You may watch me, consider it an open invitation, but I would love to teach you, see that perfect attention put to something. Magic is like dancing, talking, just gestures and phrases polished to perfection.  You are a woman worth knowing and I would like to polish you, give you a skill to set you further apart from this rabble. How much more beautiful a flower is for its thorns.”  He came to a stop suddenly, releasing her for a moment to wave off the rest of the dancers dismissively before bringing his hands up to caress her cheeks, hold her, look  almost through her, ardent gaze slightly betrayed by a quick peek at her lips before tracing down her arms, finding her hand and hip, bowing and starting the dance again. “Truly, you are finer, and most welcome, everything I have said was earned, or will be. I do not take to idle flattery. If I was not serious, I would not care how you were trained no matter how interesting.”

"Yes I am sure. Stop trying to get into my head and project your insecurities onto me. Just because that happened to you doesn't mean it'll happen to me." She huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance.

There was something satisfying watching Serra close up and let her words sink in. None of them were safe when it came to a pureblood marriage and wanting to make sure names were carried. "Are you sure about that? Or, are they buying time until the right match comes up. I bet you'll be in one soon and you can kiss your freedom goodbye."

"With the colors you just said about any color I wear should match. Adding little accents of whatever I plan on wearing should do the trick. A tie, cufflinks, a pocket square. Little details that aren't garish but attract the eye and make sure the look is cohesive." Him not having the most colorful wardrobe didn't surprise her much, he didn't seem like the flamboyant type. Short answer? My favorite color is green. I like all shades of green, but I also like soft pinks. I look good in basically every color so I do occasionally like a deeper red, for the holiday season."

"Something complementary, if we're going to wear outfits that match. I usually wear black, grey, dark greens. Things that go beneath notice, unless I have a specific purpose, but I don't know if I would say that any of those are my favorite." He looked her over as he contemplated something as simple as a favorite color. Something easy but with little purpose besides blending. He hadn't thought about it in some time delegating his outfits to others, rather than picking things that attracted his attention on a whim. "Something about you is so bright, what about you, which color is your favorite?"

While they were still surrounded by people she did her best to stay quiet and calm, smiling when people clapped in congratulations. Stealing one last look at her parents she noticed them both beaming with pride. She couldn't remember them ever looking this happy. They were both more on the reserved side, but clearly they were happy about this. Would they have done the same thing if they had a son instead of her? One capable or even willing to take over the shop? She let out a huff of frustration. This whole party had not been to celebrate her it seemed, but a ruse to gather as many of their peers as possible and announce an engagement she herself was clueless about. Clearly she was the only one surprised. Engaged. Merlin, what a birthday present. She was engaged. Engaged to the one guy she had fallen for, the one that broke her heart all those years ago. It was a cruel idea of a joke. Although, Malcolm's eyes didn't mirror the shock and surprise hers held- even if only for a second. Without the prying eyes of others she had no reason to school her features into a mask of indifference. It took her a few moments to process, for things to settle in. For his words to register. "You knew about this?" He knew and yet he didn't deem it important enough to inform her? "Were you expecting me to just go along with this?" Her eyes were blazing with anger, when she got stuck on his last word. "Again? What do you mean again?"

Much to his expectations, Malcolm didn't have time to reach Serra or her parents once he got through the party. There were so many people and he caught her eye a few times, but it seemed she was putting as much effort into avoiding him as he was trying to find her. But all he got were stolen conversations with people he didn't want to be stuck talking to; they were all boring small talk, some shop talk, and Malcolm couldn't think about anything else other than talking to Serra. It was one of the few times he panicked and could feel every stroke of a clock in tandem with his heart. Like everyone else, he gathered along with the crowd when someone was about to give a toast. And like everyone else, his eyes followed Serra's parents to the makeshift stage. Fuck, his mind seemed to say like a broken record. He officially ran out of time, but he could catch them after the toast. Malcolm clapped with everyone else, holding his champagne flute and his arm went slack when he heard his name. His heart instantly took a cold plunge to his stomach. In that moment, the walls felt like they were caving around him. Malcolm shrugged off the congratulations around him and the eyes that swiveled towards him. This was the worst way to find out and he needed to talk to Serra. "Serra-" he said, breaking through the crowd to reach her once she started to make an exit. There had been a speech planned in his head and it would've gone so much better than now. "Serra-" he called again once he was closer, not even realizing they were outside as he reached for her arm. Malcolm's face softened when he turned to face him. For once in his life, he wished that Serra could look at him like he didn't betray her trust every single time. A million things were hanging from his lips, but nothing came out. Malcolm's shoulders relaxed away from his ears and he sighed out. "It's true, I found out a few days ago. Listen, I tried, okay-I contacted lawyers…i-it cannot be annulled. Again."

"I care. I'd much rather receive a letter from an owl that looks well looked after, than some raggedy ugly one." She didn't see what seemed to hard for him to understand, it was completely logical to her. "First impressions carry a lot of weight Mr. Avery."

“Who the fuck would care what your owl looks like?” Clyde asked, baffled. Was everyone else really this vain, or was it just Serra? The Minister didn’t care what his owls looked like, but the Minister was also an idiot. Merlin did she actually have a point? “Wouldn’t the letter itself leave more of an impression?”

Serra loved all kinds of parties, any excuse to put on a pretty dress and have a few drinks was her idea of a good time. The Malfoy wedding was said to be the event of the season, she pitied anyone else having to follow that wedding. Luckily for her, her cousins were both betrothed now which meant they were getting married before her and she was still free to do whatever she wanted. Serra liked the life of having no responsibilities. It was easy and convenient. Smiling as she thanked the handsome wizard she took the glass of champagne from him.

"Thank you very much. I do agree with that sentiment. Weddings are much more enjoyable with a drink in hand."

where: the garden kew, london who: @serraborgin

Thorfinn showed for appearances, and that one of his closest friends was part of the wedding party and married to the sister of the other, and he was not going to turn down free alcohol. A petite witch caugt his attention, attractive, that he found his way over to where she was standing, grabbing two glasses of champagne.

"You are without a drink. That is not allowed at a wedding. Here you go." He holds it out for her.