"I Look Way Better Than You Do." Serra Scoffed, Looking At Her Cousin. There Had Always Been This Sort

"I really don't see how you could've missed me." Serra exclaimed doubtful, looking at the other witch. In her mind she was noticed everywhere she went and by everyone. It was her impeccable style and her looks that brought her the attention she believed to deserve. If there was one thing she wasn't lacking it was self confidence. "You know what. I'll be gracious and I'll accept your apology. You should watch where you're going next time."

( open interaction !! )

esther's heels clicked softly against the polished floor of st. mungo's as she made her way through the corridor, her raven-black hair neatly braided and her green eyes sharp. a stack of parchments was clutched to her chest, the top sheet revealing complex potion formulas. as she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with another person. with practiced grace, she steadied herself, her free hand instinctively reaching for her wand before she caught herself.

"my apologies," she said, her voice cool and controlled. "i should have been more careful." her gaze swept over the individual, assessing them quickly.

@alaraselwyn

Knowing how to handle herself in a public setting was something she had been taught at a young age, never losing her cool and keeping a mask of passive indifference even if her enotions were going haywire. She hadn't expected to run into Malcolm, they'd successfully managed to avoid each other for years and now here was right in front of her, thinking he could talk to her like nothing happened. How dare he? Sure the presents were nice and she was currently wearing a bracelet he'd sent to her a couple of months ago, but that didn't mean she'd forgiven him, it was not the jewellery's fault that he was a cheater. "I look good everywhere." She dismissed his compliment. "No one liked her anyways, so they're all over it by now." Serra crossed her arms, having to look up to keep eye contact, but not wavering. "What do you want?"

At first, Malcolm thought that he saw a ghost and when he realized it was really Serra, he opted for a ghost instead. It had been years since he saw her, doing his best to keep his distance and not cross paths. It was a moment of relief when he was told that she went to Paris. Malcolm would have done the same thing if he had a family member who dismantled the family name. He was glad to not have any siblings any only a few well-behaved cousins. Malcolm also thought that the Loire Valley would've been his choice if he were fleeing from domestic disputes. But it was because of Serra being in Paris that he was forced to readdress the first gift there and after that, he sent messages to French boutiques to send her locally designed jewelry and clothes. "Well, you look much better in London than in Paris," he commented, not shying from offering a compliment. It was only an innate reaction. "You're still saying her name? I can't help but feel sorry for the rest of the family. I hope they're well."

"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."

"Are they?" She scoffed shaking her head. "I can assure you my personal owl is looked after much better by my house elf. "Well obviously I am charming and beautiful so people will not think of my owl, but some people need all the help they can get. So making a good first impression matters."

"The post owls are well looked after." Well-looked after enough, anyways. They certainly had more muscle mass. "I get that, sure. But once someone meets you, it's not like they'll spend all their time comparing you to whatever owl brought them a letter."

She hid her face in his chest, embarrassment taking over. How could he find her attractive once he saw her like this? This was a disaster! Her life was supposed to be perfect and this was an absolute mess. "She's crazy stalker obsessed with you! She said you two hooked up...but you wouldn't cheat on me..." Serra was still half crying and hiding her face between her hands so he couldn't see the bloody nose, trying to rack her mind for a spell to get rid off blood but she'd never had to use that before so she came up empty. "Wait it's like you're crazy stalker obsessed with me! Did you do this to get back at me?" Serra let out a yelp of pain when Charity threw her on the floor. Gasping in shock when Charity hit Malcolm, not his face! It was his best feature! They had that in common, that was why they photographed so well together. The more time passed the less like a lie it seemed. Could it be true? Could he actually have cheated on her? With Charity of all people? She stood up, her head a little dizzy from the quick motion and she caught her stumble. "Shut up charity case!" Turning back to Malcolm, once again hiding the lower half of her face so he wouldn't look at her bloody nose, she continued. "Just tell me this is all a bad joke. That this-" she pointed between him and Charity. -didn't happen."

Malcolm was walking back from class with friends when a commotion erupted down the corridor. A surge of students rushed forward, forming a tight circle. He overheard someone shout, "Girls fighting!" and quickened his pace. This wasn't a common occurrence, and he wasn't about to miss it.

The sight of Charity and Serra locked in a fight was the last thing Malcolm expected. He shoved through the crowd, muttering curses as they shouldered against him. This moment was torn from a nightmare. He'd justified his cheating, but never imagined this—a public confrontation. He'd planned to tell Serra on his own terms, when he was ready. That moment, that control, had been stolen from him. Then Serra was in his arms, and instinct took over. His eyes scanned her face, searching for injury. He spotted the smear of blood and his gaze snapped to Charity, a cold tension settling in. "What the fuck is happening?" he demanded, pulling Serra close. A sliver of denial flickered; maybe this wasn't about him at all. Now he didn't feel as excited about girls fighting when they were his girls-no, just Serra. Malcolm's chin raised to glare at the other onlookers. "Well, get fucking lost-nothing to see-"

Serra had been off conversing and pretending to care what other witches were saying when Antonin grabbed her hand and they disapparated before she could come up with an excuse to say goodbye. Not that she cared about what they thought, but people talked. Especially because they were jealous of someone as gorgeous as her. It was only natural for them to be so. She looked around the unfamiliar area, confused to where he had swept her off to. Serra wanted to ask, but he had kissed her before she could utter a single syllable.

His kiss had consumed her, distracted her. There was something going on and she didn't know what it was. Perhaps he would tell her, perhaps he wouldn't. If it had nothing to do with her, she could do without knowing, but if it did thought she had a right to know. His words alarmed her, never liking to hear the word serious, but the compliments soothed her enough to listen to him. "What do you wish to tell me?"

Who: @serraborgin Where: Zafar x Evelyn Wedding/ Antonin's Flat There was no time, no explanation. He needed to get away and take her with him somewhere they could speak in private. He apparated the last place she had been and took Serra's hand before apparating again before she could protest. It had been enough time he thought, and he couldn't risk something worse happening. They appeared inside the safety of one of his flats. A nice quarter of London, tucked away. No one would notice their sudden appearance with the curtains drawn. Before any words could be exchanged he kissed her. The same fire in his eyes was there. He needed to be close to someone and he wasn't sure what light she would see him in once he was done talking. He stared at her hands clasped on her shoulders, breathing in slowly trying to get ahold of himself. "You don't know how long I wanted to do that, give you a proper snog, something too scandalous for that uptight wedding." He stroked her chin. "You are gorgeous. I don't deserve you. Can I speak with you, be serious for a moment. I need to tell you something that I didn't want anyone over hearing. I needed to be alone with just you, Serra."

"I am enjoying my free time right now. Summer is always my favorite time of the year. And I got a lot of new dresses recently so I am excited to wear them." In her mind the it was definitely worth mentioning. "You make a good point." She nods with a polite smile, lightly resting her hand in his, letting him take her to the dance floor.

"I know I could, Rita lives and dies by her adoring public, can't have a paper without readers after all, but enough about her, I'm sure you'll get to ask her anything you like, what's happening with you, anything worth mentioning?" He waved his hand at the mention of her escort's whereabouts. "I'm sure he'll find you when he's finished with your cousin, why not enjoy yourself in the meantime?" He smirked and held a hand out as if offering to take her from the drudgery of her lonely table.

"Oh I would love to meet her! You think you could introduce us?" Her eyes widened in excitement, a gasp leaving her lips. Serra had seen the witch around before but she had never been formally introduced. It'd be amazing to hear gossip straight from the source. "Oh I know a ton." It would be a perfect moment to dish on Alara too. "I think I've got a few minutes. He said something about going to speak to my cousin Emir."

"Would you like an introduction? I'm sure she wouldn't mind getting to ask some questions to someone so interesting. You must have heard some things. Yes it's better to show up with a date to these kinds of things isn't it, gives you someone to get back to suddenly when approached by less than desirable company." He looked around for her escort. "I hope you don't have to wander off too soon?"

"Mr. Lestrange. It is an honor to have you here tonight." Her parents had instilled good manners into her at an early age, especially to those pureblood families they deemed worth it. The Lestrange family was an honorable one, an influential one. "Thank you, that is very kind of you." And true, obviously. She knew how good she looked. It was a fact. "Oh, that is quite lovely. Thank you." It would suit the powder blue dress she had gotten last week. "I am, very much so. What about you?"

Rabastan was indifferent to Serra. He barely knew the girl, and did not especially care to rectify that social distance. Still, he was here at her parents' invitation, so it was only polite to wish her a 'happy birthday'.

"Miss Borgin," he greeted, taking a moment to note her appearance. That dress certainly stood out. No doubt it had been her aim. He smiled, offering her a glass of champagne. "Happy birthday. You look very lovely. Alecto and I brought you a gift. We left it with your parents when we arrived." It was a small thing; an antique carryall, solid gold and decorated with pearls, containing a mirror, powder, comb, lipstick, etc. "Are you enjoying your evening?"