@themalcolmparkinson

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.

"That is good, I am glad to hear it." Serra said, without lying for the sake of politeness. She did not wish ill upon him, the ending of their liasion much more amicable than the one she had with Malcolm. "I have enjoyed Paris very much I must admit, I did not expect to have to be back in London so soon, but my parents insisted." She sighed, shrugging her shoulders. Defying them was not an option. Her eyes shined with excitement when she took in the diamond bracelet. It was gorgeous, more understated than expected but she understood his reasoning once he explained it. It made sense, that way she could wear it every day without it becoming stale.

"I like it. Thank you. You chose well. Did Leta help you with it or did you choose it yourself?" She trusted the other witch's taste.

Antonin’s brow furrowed as if recounting recent events.  He laughed.  “I have been busy, but well enough, I appreciate you asking, but know you’d much rather talk about your adventures.  Paris seems to have agreed with you.  I’m sure you didn’t come back just to celebrate your birthday, you must have something juicy to gossip about.”   He gave Serra a soft smile still toying with the small box almost tucking it away.  “I bet you were born with a sparkle in your eyes weren’t you?  A token.“  He relented, opening the box to show her a diamond bracelet.  The stones were a good size and cut enough to add to an outfit without drawing focus from it. “Something for every occasion. I’m sure you could pull off anything sparkly enough, but why give a gift whose only use is to fill a box.”

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Being a good host was important, even if technically her parents were hosting this birthday party and she was the guest of honor she felt like hostess duties did apply to her. "I speak French fluently so I had no issues there." She exclaimed quite proudly. "I was shadowing a french designer, learning her craft. It was quite educational." Fashion had always interested her. "I suggest getting them started on lessons early, it is much easier to learn a language as a child."

"I'm sure she is," Rabastan replied without hesitation, knowing that Alecto would simply make her own fun if she were bored. At her latter assessment, he laughed, quiet yet clipped. "Some of us are better made for the limelight, it seems. Do tell me about Paris. What were you doing there and have you learned any French? I will take my children when they're older. It's important they know their roots."

"Thank you. London certainly has seen better days now that I have returned." While the Nott name was one familiar to her, she did not spend much time with the other witch so Serra concluded her to hold no significant importance to herself. "Clearly you were the wrong person to talk to. My apologies."

Pandora was grabbing a few items needed for the shop that when she heard a voice talking, she turned to make sure it was her being talked to. "Welcome back?" She knew of Serra Borgin, younger than her, but not by too much. The witch had also heard about what happened with Alara Selwyn, but chose to stay out of it. It was not her business. "I don't know how you want me to answer that."

I dont ever have to make sense cause im cute

"And once we find her we will have the best night ever." She had missed her friends while in Paris, she was glad that they were both here to celebrate with her tonight.

“Lucky her!” Lydia said, looking around the room. It seemed like all the same faces she normally saw, but there really were so many people. “Let’s check the gardens first. Then maybe the coat room? The private tour highlights.”

It was a scary thought, opening up to him again. She'd kept herself and her heart away from him purposefully, for many years now, as she'd worried about the power he had over her. They were like magnets, pulling towards each other, helpless to do anything against it. Was it the same for him? She wondered. Did he feel the same way she did? Still, she was too proud to show him how much he affected her. Of course she wanted him too, she thought a part of her would always want him, it was in her nature. He had only gotten more handsome in their time apart, the dark blue of his suit bringing out his eyes. She had only half listened when he spoke about traitors and nodded her agreement, distracted by how close he was standing. "You want me? Prove it." Her tone was playful, a hint of a challenge in it. She wasn't planning on making it this easy for him, she wanted him to put in the effort to get her back. Him giving her the upper hand in the wedding planning was a good start, she'd always known how she wanted her wedding to look like. The groom in her childhood fantasies had always been him as she grew up and he had broken her heart she had pushed those thoughts away. "I know what I want."

Malcolm couldn't remember what he had for breakfast on a good day so it wasn't a surprise that he couldn't pinpoint the exact timeline of him and Charity. There was a part of him that did remember, but it was all a haze that got lost under a weird thrill. Malcolm knew that Serra meant every word that she said and he would be the fool if he didn't believe her. It wasn't about being careful. He would've wanted this even if there wasn't a contract binding them together. "Trust me, I understand what can happen to a family's reputation. There's traitors making a mess of society and I'm glad none of them are here. I want this, I want you," he says. "I've wanted you and I wouldn't do anything to change that again." Maybe this wasn't the best place to have this conversation, but he had yet to ask if this was what she wanted. She probably had a line of suitors wishing for her hand, but they weren't the ones standing in front of her right now. "Oh, I do not question how green might look on you, but I was referencing the floral arrangements. We can plan whatever you want. I've heard that Emir had little to say in the arrangements here and look how good it turned out."

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."

Alecto Carrow had always intimidated her, there was just something about her presence, you could not miss her when she entered a room. Especially now that she had snagged one of the most eligible bachelors. She had heard he'd been betrothed to her cousin Mira for a brief stint and she did wonder what happened there for things to end up the way they did. She would be looking forward to the next issue of Rita Skeeter's column. "I agree. Evelyn looked wonderful. Do you know who made her dress? It is gorgeous."

where: fulham palace who: open

This was their first event since their own wedding, and she could feel the eyes on her, not that it mattered. She was quite content with how things had turned out and wouldn't have it any other way, slowly accepting what would be of her life. Rabastan was always there to put her at ease and turning her thoughts into a more logical one.

The witch walked around with a glass of champagne, not having taking a sip, not wanting to draw more attention since she was able to conceal her pregnancy still. "I will say, I'm impressed with how this turned out. Evelyn looked beautiful in her dress." Her head turning to the person beside her.