/repost For Your Gif Changing Needs - Blog Posts

rabastanlcstrange​:

WHO @blanchexxprimpernelle​ & @nvmalfoy​ WHEN 12 June 2003. WHERE The Augurey Club.

The sunglasses were a poor disguise. Perched upon the bridge of his nose and designed to keep the world out or another world in, they had done little in the way of providing a shield either way — he felt scrubbed raw and exposed, every nerve awake and inflamed. Bash could hear the whispers floating around the patio, could taste the distinct lack of champagne in his mimosa (clearly Rolf had gotten to them here, too) and with each passing moment the urge to drive the stem of that crystal glass into the nearest overly-deferential neck was becoming a more viable option. And yet.

He took a sip of orange juice and soda water (a monstrosity), nose wrinkling and teeth bared in a smile that had turned half-feral as his head turned in anticipation of the click of heels upon the tiles of the patio. “You’re late,” he offered, raising his half-full glass of not-mimosa into the air in the hopes it might be swept away and replaced with one less disappointing. Time was slippery at the moment, skittering away between his fingers whenever he tried to pluck at the strings of it. “You missed the shift-change for the pool boys.”

Small sunglasses slid down to reveal a judgement filled gaze, a sliver of eyes and skin not hidden by the sun hat gracing her blonde head, as Narcissa tilted her head down to get a better look at her brother-in-law and almost first husband. “You’re early?” She sniffed, raising her chin up in even more judgement as she stole the glass from his hand. “I don’t know what I expected after you fled to host your little theatre games.” Without inviting her.

The sip was horrific and Narcissa had half the mind to spat the concoction out on the patio stone but ladies didn’t spit. Instead, she swallow the horrific citrus-y drink as her lip curled and slid the glass across the table and as far away from the pair of them as she could manage. “What was that? Poison?” Not willing to spend another moment with the foul taste on her tongue she removed her glasses, tucked one ankle behind the other, and glanced in the direction of one of the cabana boys. He came running.

“I’m not sure who in their right mind decided that–” A french tipped nail pointed to the offending drink. “–was an acceptable thing to serve but I’ll need their name. Immediately. Three fresh mimosas. Bring the bottle.” Her eyes slid over to Bash. “A black coffee.” When the pool boy didn’t scurry along to fix the grave error, Narcissa’s gaze shifted slowly. The effort of acknowledging a cabana boy who couldn’t even have the decency to unbutton his shirt quite taxing. She blinked and as if that simple action had broken the spell, the boy spun and left in a frenzy of flurried embarrassment.

Leaning over, she planted a kiss on Bash’s cheek and patted his face to see if some color could return to the sour disposition she adored. “You look terrible.”

@blanchexxprimpernelle​