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[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

WHO: threadthefire and EVERYONE!!
WHERE: passionné (along with cafe satiné and salon lustré, of course)
WHEN: Saturday evening.
WARNINGS: Not a one, unless Finnick decides to strip. Then it’s anybody’s guess.

It’s opening night at passionné and everyone’s invited. There are models wearing Cinna’s latest fashions mingling amidst the guests, answering any questions the attendees may have about the gowns and suits they’re wearing. Pastries and hand-made drinks from cafe satiné are being passed around as are flutes of champagne and glasses of wine from a local source. Music, played live by local musicians, fills the air as guests wander the boutique and look at Cinna’s wares in the intimate spaces.

And should anyone be so moved, they’re currently taking appointments for consultations, fittings and commissions in the salon area.

Comments

[thenormalsquint]

"You wouldn't dare."

She wouldn't dare. Not tonight. Not on his night. Her face says as much. Angela is not going to have him worrying about her, here or not. She reaches out for his arm, rubbing it lightly before leaning her forehead against his. Here, in this corner of the room where they have the strangest amount of privacy in a big gala, she needs this moment in the outside life more than Cinna will ever know.

"I'm fine, Cinna. I'll be okay. I can't stop living just because of this. Eventually, I would have to leave the house. Might as well do it tonight."

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

Taking her hand, he presses it to his lips in a soft kiss. Her strength is inspiring, he knows she's still struggling with things.

"I promise, once everything here settles, I can spend more time with you out in the world instead of just coming back to fall into bed. Not that I'm complaining," He gives her a slightly lecherous grin. "But I know I haven't been as present as I should have been these last few weeks."

[thenormalsquint]

She never thought he was lacking in the presence department. Angela's run her own openings, though of a different sort. and knows how much work and time it takes to make sure it goes off without a hitch. Everything has to be perfect and everybody has to be happy because one bad apple does indeed spoils the whole bunch and all your hard work goes swirling down the drain in a matter of seconds. She never begrudged him being gone most days; if anything, Angela understood and preferred it that way. He shouldn't have to deal with her cleaning up her act.

"Babe, it's okay," she whispers, returning that grin with the volume turned up, "Just make it up to me then if you know what I mean."

[threadthefire.livejournal.com]

He leans forward to place a kiss just below her ear so he can whisper close to her skin, "I think something can be arranged."

He keeps an arm around her waist and turns her towards an open space near Menolly and her harp. "Care to dance with a genius?"

[thenormalsquint]

"Sure." Angela pauses to look around at nothing in particular, playing all innocence and purity, thought she's finding it hard to keep the smile off her face. "Where are they?"