#nox.tier3

he     carries     himself     with     a     confidence     not     entirely     earned          /          a     𝐇𝐔𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒     to     every     graceful     ,     langorous     move          :          case     in     point     when     he     balances     a     cigarette     on     lower     lip     ,     lazily     snaps     his     fingers     to     light     it     .          (          no     regard     ,     of     course     ,     for     hypothetical     rules          ;          who’s     going     to     hold     him     accountable          ?          )          ❛          my     wife     and     i     ,     we     have     our     own     personal     bets     as     to     who’s     going     to     𝚠𝚒𝚗     .     she’ll     accuse     me     of     having     the     damned     thing     rigged     ,     of     course     ,     if     fortune     favours     the     bold     .          ❜          throaty     laugh     is     rich     ,     genuine     if     slightly     restrained          /          like     he’s     trying     to     𝒈𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏     the     sound     .          ❛          i’ve     rather     a     soft     spot     for     the     bulgarian     .     i     suppose     you’ve     got     your     OWN     favourite     ,     though     .          ❜

“is this in poor taste?” she hasn’t actually thought about it before now, and her eyebrows knit together. it occurs to her ( for the very first time and perhaps much too late ) that betting on the result of a hippogriff race and being there at all might be considered as much, by some people. surely, as draco’s nearest and dearest, she’s meant to hold some sort of a GRUDGE to the species as a whole, though truthfully, his earliest near death experience had been forgotten amidst the rest of them. she frowns at her betting stub and then looks towards theo with bemused expression now glued in place, “do we know why he isn’t here? salazar forgive us - are we making light of his trauma?”  

“i thought you said that niko was going to be here,” she hisses in mikaela’s ear, tugging her by the elbow ( discreetly grabbed as she walked past ) into a quiet corner of the event. she feels ridiculous surrounded by so many higher ups from the ministry of magic, no less, and perpetually flush with her embarrassment despite the flimsy slip of a dress that she spent half a paycheck on. it isn’t mikaela’s fault, of course, that luca doesn’t belong ; but she's more than happy to vent at least one of her frustrations now that she’s nabbed herself the chance, “i thought he was going to keep me company while you were bustling around all important.” 

"bellamy,” theodore opted to skip any form of polite greeting, instead lowering his sunglasses as he narrowed his eyes to look at his former schoolmate. “they actually let you in here?” he couldn’t resist a snide remark, knowing knox would’ve said something similar if she had the chance. he was just beating her to it. “tell me, did you have to bribe someone?”