prettyawkward | [ For asthedrivensnow ]

Rabastan arrived at the Black's manor with a satchel that was full of everything he'd need. A resonant ring announced his arrival, and he found his hand automatically moving to his hair as he waited, rather nervously, for the house elf to allow him into the foyer. Fingers twisted and tugged at a few strands of long, black hair as his eyes wandered around the familiar scene. Rabastan had spent many occasions here, certainly, but somehow this seemed different. There was a fleeting thought that he might have a chance; that perhaps this would be the moment where he'd finally be able to say he'd caught the eye of a particularly stunning Black sister. Soon after that thought came the whispering doubt that caused a slight contortion in his face as he ignored the house elf's ramblings. Maybe he was asking about taking his coat, or bag, or whatever it was that house elves do. Rabastan was far too caught up in the noise inside of his own head to really pay much attention to anything in the real world. This had become more and more common since he'd been living on his own, and his lack of sleep was apparent under his eyes.

With another strange fidget, and sudden realisation that the house elf was still trying to get his attention, he glanced down at the creature, "I'm here for your mistress Narcissa. She should be expecting me."

He had remembered to send that owl she had asked him to, hadn't he? He thought he remembered, or maybe he had dreamt it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Flatter me a little more, I love it," she laughs, tilting her head back and tugging on a lock of hair. "May I see it now, or do I have to wait for the finishing touches?"

Narcissa isn't sure if he'll give in or not, and she levels a hopeful gaze on him that doesn't quite balance out the smirk curling her lip.

At first he seemed excited to allow her to see it, but a flicker of muttering thoughts caused him to want to play this out.

"I think you'll have to wait. That makes it more enjoyable when you finally can, doesn't it?" he asked as he started to clean everything up with a few flicks of his wand. "I wouldn't know. I'm shit at patience."

For a moment, she thought he'd allow it - but then she sees the indecision on his face and knows he's changed his mind.

"They do say good things come to those who wait," she points out, a little wryly.

Narcissa is very aware that she's pretty, and she doubts the portrait will be hideous. That doesn't stop her vanity from wanting to see it now.

"I'm a bit particular about my work," he mentioned, as he finished up packing everything else, and miniaturising the portrait to fit into his pack.

"It will absolutely be worth it. And on top of it, when we do actually go on that date, I'll have something lovely to bring to you! So it's a deal, then?"

She watches him pack up, his efficiency and care for his tools at odds with his often clumsy motions the rest of the time. It's obvious that when he has a focus he cares for, he's a different young man.

"It's a deal," she agrees, and slides her legs out from under her skirts, stretching them out in front of her and wriggling her toes before she stands and moves towards him.

"I can't wait to see what you've done."

He watched her approach, straightening his posture, and running a quick hand through his mess of hair, as if it made any sort of a difference.

"Well, I can't wait to see you see...what I've done...heh. So, ah--when would be the best time for you?"

Pursing her lips in thought, Narcissa mentally runs through her schedule.

"Thursday would be alright," she says, turning her back and looking at him over her shoulder. Her gaze drops to the lacing on her gown before lifting to meet his. "Would you mind..? I don't want to spend all day in this."

"Thursday, then. Thursday it is!" he offered a grin along with his excited tone.

When she turned her back to him with her request, it took him a moment to understand what she wanted of him. After what seemed like several moments of blank staring and frequent blinking, it seemed to click into place and he helped to undo the lacing. Maybe it wasn't all that complicated, but to him it seemed like navigating a labyrinth.

"Are all women's dresses this...complex?" It wasn't until after he said it that he realised how that had made it sound as though removing dresses from ladies was rather foreign to him. Maybe that was for the best in this case.

He seems perplexed, and Narcissa hides her smile until he realises what she's asking and begins to unmade the back of her gown.

"Some are," she replies, a hint of amusement in her tone. He's obviously used to a different kind of lady. "Sometimes it's just easier to have help."

Rabastan had never made it that far with any proper lady. And now he was contemplating learning a few spells to help him out in that case. Clothing should never be this difficult to remove from someone so beautiful. It was just unfair.

"Haaa, yeah. Well, if you ever need any help. With that. Any time. I mean...well, wait...I didn't mean---er, that all came out rather forward..." He was stumbling over his own tongue, now.

"I can undress myself the rest of the way," she laughs, sweeping past him to the room-dividing bookcases she'd changed behind earlier. There is a rustle of silken skirts as the gown falls, followed by the quiet shush of softest cashmere over her skin.

Her feet go back in her flats and her hands are busy repinning her chignon as she emerges.

"Why, were you going to offer to be my lady's maid?"

He let out a deep breath, hand back up in his hair to tug at a few strands as he realised how ridiculous he had sounded just now.

"I...haaa, no. I mean. Just if you needed...the help, but haaaa lady's maid." He was only making it worse, wasn't he? He sounded like an idiot laughing so nervously at all that.

"It's a little early in our acquaintanceship for you to offer to remove my clothing, Rabbie, though its sweet of you to do so."

She moves back to the chaise, pulling the pins from her hair to start over.

He gave her a sheepish sort of grin, "I know. I...I sometimes say shit I shouldn't. It just sort of...comes out. It seems like a good idea at the time, and then I just...say it. Sorry."

He watched her for a moment, not sure what else to say.

"I really like this. What we have going on here. Simple and fun. I suppose I'll see you on Thursday, then. I hope to impress you," he offered her a more daring smile.

Her fingers are expertly twisting her long hair back into place as he speaks, and when he fidgets himself and swears again, her lips quirk in an amused smile.

"Restraint can be learned, you know," she points out, sliding pins into her hair. "You just need to have a reason to exercise it."

She stands, then, smoothing down her dress.

"Thursday will be lovely. Are you coming here, or..?"

Restraint? He felt as thought he exercised restraint all the time. If he didn't...well he'd probably have been in prison a long time ago.

"I'll come here. I'll take you someplace special."

Then he's doing it reasonably well, since she's only referring to his habit of speaking without thinking.

"Six, then. Don't be late."

"As you wish, Love."

He approached her to take her hand, so he could kiss it, before heading out with his things and disapparating back to his flat.

It would be an understatement to say she was surprised by his sudden suaveness and the little endearment, and she remains in the music room a little while longer, thinking over things.

[ For asthedrivensnow ]

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ugh, autocorrect. "unmade" should have been "unlace", I'm sorry!

no probs!

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