[the carthin,mayfair] when the stars align,will you promise to find me?|wolfgang

When her cousin had inquired about her availability for the night of the gala at the grand opening of The Carthin Hotel, Genevieve expected to somehow be cajoled into commitment to attend together with a half-hearted promise of fun and a night she would never forget. The Grosvenor girl served as the ideal companion, and had oftentimes been used by her older cousins as a wing woman of sorts, with the hopes that she would entice whatever desperate fish available wherever they found themselves for the night. In a rare act of compliance, the young woman had agreed. Genevieve had naturally purchased the most inclusive ticket as soon as they had gone on sale but had been so distracted with her visit to her mother at Azkaban followed by her meeting with Nathalie, she had missed her opportunity to find a suitable date. She received several invitations of course, but had refused to open any letters not belonging to family. For once, Genevieve’s mind was preoccupied with something other than men.

Therefore, it was to much surprise that her cousin arrived with two men, one as her date, and the other, whose name she came to know as Nicholas, as hers. The young witch was pleasantly surprised, particularly when she became aware that her dear cousin Eliza had indeed been paying close attention on one of the many nights she had divulged her ideal type. Tall and incredibly handsome, a beautiful combination of grey-blue eyes and strikingly black hair, Nicholas introduced himself with a suitable amount of decorum, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine when she imagined it close to her ear as it whispered incredibly inappropriate things to her.

It was much too early in the night for all of that, but his discreet hint that he, too, had purchased an all inclusive package that included a one night stay along with his desire to see her for brunch the next morning told her everything she needed to know. Genevieve made no protests. For once, she was very proud of her cousin and started to see a glimmer of hope for the night.

By the third extra dry martini and a few stolen kisses, Genevieve was thoroughly enjoying herself, coming to the very pleasant realization that she would indeed be spending a majority of the night with this Nicholas and if he made good on the promises he had whispered to her so far, possibly the next morning as well. That was at least until she finally saw the last man she had expected to see that night: her fiancée, @Wolfgang Reinhardt (http://www.magical-hogwarts.com/index.php?action=profile;u=25481) . Her eyes lit up for just a fraction of a moment when she spotted him across the room; it was almost as if her eyes could not avoid him, her insides melting just a little as he smiled in conversation to the people that surrounded him. Thoughts of Nicholas immediately disappeared as she discreetly attempted to make her way over, not daring to interrupt the conversation but rather to get him to notice her. Surely, he would make the first move if he wanted her attention. If not, well she would have been rejected once again without proper protocol but that had always been Wolfgang’s way of dealing with this sort of thing. Uncultured.

Genevieve pondered over how close she would have to get to be noticed by the everlasting object of her affections before she stopped dead in her tracks as some woman returned to their circle, immediately holding on to Wolfgang’s arm as if to lay claim on his attention. She could feel herself visibly become upset, evident in the way that her hand folded into itself and pressed harshly into the palm of her hand, her jaw clenching ever so slightly as a frown formed on her face. How dare he bring someone else and not once think to ask me?

When a waiter came by offering her a drink off of the silver tray, she forced herself to look away for the sake of not drawing unneeded attention, resorting to softening her expression and feigning a smile. She walked a little closer when the waiter left her side, observing the woman in a similar way a predator might size up his prey. She was pleasant to look at; long brown hair framed her beautiful face as a red dress hung delicately on her petite frame. Naturally, Genevieve looked much better in the color, hence why she had chosen it for tonight's attire (https://www.pinterest.co.kr/pin/413205334558532581/). She was well aware that Wolfgang liked the color red and based on the way that other woman took so many liberties in his space, she could only assume that the two of them knew each other intimately. The thought that the two of them had been together in that way infuriated her.

She barely noticed Nicholas when he pressed a hand gently against the small of her back and instead, handed him her drink and a few vague words promising to return as she made a beeline straight to her fiancée and that woman. Pretending to be distracted, she unceremoniously bumped into the woman, not so much so as to cause a scene but enough for her to turn in their direction and feign in apology. “Oh, pardon me, I’m so sorry,” she said in as much as an apologetic tone as she could muster. Genevieve’s eyes lingered on the woman for a second before glaring up at Wolfgang.

“What a surprise to see you here, Mr. Reinhardt,” she said with spiteful undertones, “I assumed that when my fiancée didn’t bother to extend an invitation to the gala, he had found himself a… woman, seems that I was right,” she turned to the young woman and gave her as much of a smile as she could, it was obviously fake. “My dearest Wolfie, don’t you know that putting a red dress on a pig won’t make her your beloved Genevieve?” she teased, dropping her voice just slightly before she waved at the air in between them as if to dismiss his words and return to her façade of pleasantness. “Anyway, I ought to be getting back to Nicholas, we should catch up again another time, Nicholas and I will be here for brunch tomorrow morning, will you?” she asked, hoping that her hints were enough to upset him, drive him to jealousy somehow.

It would have been better had he come alone or not at all, but, then he would have missed such a delightful night. His cool gaze had found her early in the night and from the distance provided by the room he grew more and more jealous. MAsquerading around with riff-raff as if such was acceptable. She had forgotten in their time apart that she was his. There she was giving hope where Wolfgang believed there shouldn't have been. She was playing a dangerous game without knowing the stakes, that would be soon to change. He would make sure it did, even if he had to misbehave to do so. Mother would be most furious but she more than most should have understanding that love held no boundaries. That time and distance didn't change the depth of caring. Caring, strange concept of emotion that equated ones need, ones longing and at times ones hidden desires. He wouldn't hide, what was the point when he risked the loss of far more than he was willing to wager. No, she would be reminded that his claim overshadowed false promises and soon dashed hopes. He was all the should have mattered and to see her so carelessly with another man was bound to cause him to soon forget himself.

His gaze shifted as he was tapped and he laughed along with the group, having missed the joke at hand. He nodded once more as he tried to pull his thoughts away from murderous dreams. He didn't move as his date arrived, clinging to him like some prize she feared losing. These women and their false sense of possession. An invitation to a gala did not a relationship make, but it served to cause a bit of drama. He could feel her there watching him as he had watched her and he wondered how she felt to see his arm occupied. Of course, whatever her name was, he'd forgotten soon after his mother told him and just as fast after she redressed from time in his bed, held no candle to what he truly desired. After all her accompanying him had not been the man's idea but he found himself glad she was there, a buffer in a sense. She didn't know the history that rested between them, no one did. They shared moments that seemed far more than distant memories. He couldn't say that he had ever been in love until her. It had been young back then and even still it felt raw and unbridled.

In a sense, he had learned the ways of the world through the scattered moments of their past. Kisses in closets and secrets spilled in front of fireplaces. Those were the building blocks, the ground that his hopes stood on. He knew the type of man he was, had seen the wake of his aftermath. He had felt the destruction of his actions. Wolfgang knew that he was truly a son only a mother could love. Though, there had times in her presence where behind those beautiful eyes of hers that he saw she was capable of. That even if what shined wasn't love it was affection and that in the very least was far more than he deserved. So, to see her with anyone who wasn't himself rubbed him wrong. Watching her laugh at ill-placed jokes and flatter egos pissed him off. To see her flirt with her hands and hair boiled his blood. But more than it all combined he hated most that she had stopped writing. That she had gone silent after so much intensity to his heart. She sparked life into him and then she left him there to ride the buzz alone.

Genevieve made an attempt at attention Wolfgang found it cute. How subtle of her, though he knew her intentions. Rebeccas, as he finally remembered, opened her mouth to speak and Wolfgang rose a hand to hush her. This was a battle of will and wits and his date had neither. A job best served for someone who knew how someone such as the beauty before him thought. "You're excused, it's hard to watch where one is walking when their gaze is preoccupieed." he retorted with a slight smirk on his lips. "Surprise? I would say it rests in your choice of company tonight Ms. Grosenvor. We might have expected more from you, but foolish of us correct?" His weight rocked on his feet as an amused expression took over his features, "Such invitations work two ways. My choice to be in attendance tonight but tonight has cleared up wonderings due to lack of word from you. He gazed at her for a moment watching her as she shifted.

She drew nearer and the smell of her perfume woke a desire in him he had not felt for some time. Her whispers caused his smile, hints of her jealousy running over the edge of her well-designed facade. "As I hope the copy of me does not succeed in fooling you despite his subpar nature." He commented softly, letting his gaze shift "Right, you and Nicholas." He rolled his shoulders softly before he scoffed, "Excuse us." He moved as he spoke, taking her arm to lead her away from the group. "Let's have a real chat and drop the plastered pleasantries." His jaw set and he had to remind himself that they were in public, not that he cared, and his mother would have his head - that mattered.  He nodded as someone passed them, giving a polite smile before he turned to look at her.

"You're used to men such as the likes of him." He pointed at Nicholas who seemed to be watching, "I'm nothing like them. You may walk on those men as if they are nothing but you won't do that here." He stepped forward and the air grew thick with the closing proximity, "You sit in his face all night, allowing him to..." He looked away from her as his jaw set once more "Then cause a scene." His gaze snapped back as a hand lifted to the wall, locking her in place. "I'm not that same boy that you left confused in Spain. Things have changed and I know that you haven't had the pleasure to know me now, so" He smirked softly, "this one mistake I can forgive. But," Here he leaned towards her, whispering despite there being no reason too, "should you test my limits let me warn you now that you aren't prepared for what's hidden beneath my obvious charm."

**edit -- permission to move Evie around

Genevieve could not help but to roll her eyes in response to his retort, the coldness with which he regarded her leaving a sense of distance between them that she simply could not shake off. Now that he was in such close proximity, she was reminded of how handsome he truly was; the soft line of his jaw, the elegance of his nose, the depth of his gray-colored eyes, all parts of him that she had treasured within her mind. Though it had been several years since they had been in such close proximity to each other, he had managed to maintain his boyish charm, evident in the way in which he spoke, the tone of his voice reflecting the very smirk on his lips. Her attention naturally shifted to those very lips, ones whose softness she could almost perfectly remember being pressed against hers.

The location of their last encounter did not come to mind but every action that had been taken that day had almost caused her to become distracted, her skin abuzz with memories of where those lips and hands had touched. Things were different between them now; Genevieve’s feelings for him had bubbled over in the form of a confession that had never been responded to years prior and since then, she had forced herself to control such emotional outbursts to overtake her. The feelings that she had held for him within her heart had been constructed not only through touch but through the sharing of dreams, the understanding and acceptance of past traumas, and most importantly, a feeling of solidarity which had fooled the young woman into divulging some of her deepest secrets. Now before him, the fondness she once held had been transformed into a sort of bittersweet nostalgia that was accompanied by envy as soon as her eyes had fallen on his date.

The mystery surrounding the identity of the woman only served to intensify her feelings of hate. Who was she and how dare she not recognize the very public engagement the man she was with was involved in? Though Genevieve had not allowed her engagement to stop her from seeing and flirting with many men, she saw her own actions as harmless because she understood her reasoning behind them. But the thought that any woman could have managed to take her place within the man’s heart infuriated her. “You’re quite astute, Mr. Reinhardt,” she said in response, her tone calm in comparison to the storm raging within her heart. “I was preoccupied with the bar across the room, you see,” she tilted her head in the direction of the small bar in the corner of the room where a handsome man stood making mixed drinks.

“You lot might do well with champagne but seeing the more common folk here is rather sickening to a woman of my status and I needed a stronger drink to keep my civility, I suppose just about anyone can purchase a ticket to these things nowadays, it’s rather appalling, really,” she responded, looking around his circle with arrogance. Genevieve recognized some of the faces but felt no need to defer to any of them, the Grosvenors were certainly not the richest family in the room but at least she had the pleasure of knowing that the influence her family held was not in least bit matched by any one of the people surrounding her fiancée in pleasant conversation. How typical of Wolfgang to surround himself with subpar company to bolster his ego, she thought to herself. If anything, she found some comfort in realizing that rather than defend his date, he decided to bring up hers. A mischievous smile found its way on the young heiress’ lips, almost as if she had Wolfgang just where she wanted him.

“Now, now, Mr. Reinhardt, no need to become jealous of dear old Nicholas, me and him have been acquainted for some time,” she lied, the edges of her voice filled with malice, “unlike you I would never be seen in public with one of my toys, I may be many things but I certainly do have self-respect, but as you said, you had no choice,” she added with a titter, her gloved hand coming up to cover her mouth as she laughed rather dramatically at her own words. Her eyes traveling around the others in the group, their uncomfortable and somewhat troubled expressions making her laugh internally with much delight.

“Is he a copy?” she wondered, turning towards him and waving sweetly, beckoning Nicholas over with fabricated warmth. Once he spotted her, Nicholas immediately made his way over, introducing himself to the group of socialites eagerly and with much ease. “Hm, no, that sort of body and bone structure come along once in a lifetime, I assure you, I’ve had a great many other men to compare to,” she slipped in, hoping that her words would further anger him. She pretended it was a game but deep down, it was her very own flavor of revenge. Genevieve had felt betrayed by his absence, and though she had not gone out of her way to seek him out, she had waited. Genevieve had never waited for anyone else before only to be left in the dark and it angered her greatly.

Nevertheless his move to pull her into the corner was unexpected, evident in the way in which her eyes widened for a fraction of a second and the arrogant expression on her face transformed itself into one of surprise. Genevieve’s refusal to respond was in no way sensible, after all, no woman with sense would allow a man other than her own father to pull her away from a crowd in such a manner. Nevertheless, she was intrigued by his behavior a smirk appearing on her face when he finally showed his true nature. The heiress allowed him to speak at length, amused at the way in which he expressed his thoughts; the threatening tone of his voice not supportive of the words he spoke. Genevieve could not help but to lean back against the wall, her breath becoming shallow as he came closer. Her eyes traveled down his elegant neck, intoxicated by the smell of creamy sandalwood and jasmine that seemed to emanate from his glorious presence.

“Spain?” she asked in pretend confusion, “Oh Wolfie that was years ago, were you so very confused that you found yourself incapable of writing me a bloody letter? Let’s not act like children, I am not causing a scene I am simply reminding your...friend,” she said, turning to the woman who stood afar seemingly staring at her with anger in her eyes. “That we have an arrangement. Do have the decency to show me some respect and don’t pretend as if you have no idea who I am,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him in anger, leaning forward and suddenly realizing that she was only mere inches from those very lips she longed to kiss again.

It was when she caught sight of Nicholas from the corner of her eye that she softened her expression and pulled back, looking around as discreetly as she could as to gauge the reaction of others. The last thing she needed was for the Prophet to gossip. “Nicholas Barlowe, it’s a pleasure,” he said smoothly, extending his hand to greet Wolfgang as he stood by her side. “Nicholas, darling,” she responded suddenly, turning to him and leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek. “I think I’ve grown quite bored, why don’t you go up and have a nice bottle of vintage brought to the room,” she suggested softly, her hand moving along the lapel of his suit, “And I’ll join you shortly, I’ve got some business to attend to,” she continued. Nicholas looked at them both, suspicious for a moment before nodding and excusing himself.

Turning towards Wolfgang again, she extended her arm to encourage him to take it. “What about a nice little stroll, Wolfie. You seem--tense and a little confused. We don’t want you to believe you’ve fallen in love with me, it’s quite unbecoming, love,” she said quietly, though her own words felt like a lie to her.

Genevieve was projecting; her desire for him growing by leaps and bounds the longer she stood at his side.