[paris] ribbons in our hair and our eyes gleamed mean [zara]

“No, not that one.”

Luciana flicked her dark tresses over her shoulder, waving her hand dismissively and turning her head from the assistant holding up a white, empire-line dress to focus on the options in front of her. The Italian had an aversion to white right now; it was not a colour she wanted anyone in her family to see her in, especially in the form of an evening gown – the jump to a wedding dress was not a big one, and it was one she had no intentions of taking in the near future.

She was in need of a new evening gown. The brunette was attending a symphony with some cousins this weekend, and though she had a multitude of dresses at home she had nothing to wear. Luciana’s manicured hands flicked through the rack, pausing every few hangers to run her hazel gaze over something that had caught her eye. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone in particular, but she wasn’t going to show up in something sub-par when she knew that her cousins would each be trying to outdo the other.

Finding a deep navy number she pulled it out and held it up, looking at it from the floor up. As her eye line reached level with her hand, a familiar face caught her attention. Genius struck. Zara would be able to help, whether she wanted to or not. Luciana’s arm moved to her side, holding it out expectantly for the assistant to grab, shaking it a little impatiently when the woman was slow to respond.

“Zara!” she called out, letting go of the hanger just as the assistant rushed forward to grab it. The brunette strutted forward towards her former peer with her arms open, “Darling!” Luciana pulled the blonde girl in for a loose hug, kissing her once on each cheek. “How are you?” The elemental certainly hadn't been the friendliest student in her year, but Zara probably had been in the top ten, at least. Luci liked Zara, despite the persistent rumour that the former Ombrelune hated everyone, and the Papillonlisse certainly had her uses. Her choice in friends left a little to be desired, excluding yours truly, but all humans had flaws. Barely waiting for the blonde to answer her, Luciana got straight to the point, “Come,” she grabbed the other girls wrist starting to drag her back towards the gowns, “help me pick out a dress.”

@Zara Rousseau

"Oh, I like that."

The voice came from a petite blonde girl who was currently rifling through a rack full of exquisite dresses before stopping on one. It was gorgeous. A floor length midnight blue gown, v-necked and full of crystal embellishments. Whatever it was made out of felt lightweight but expensive and she knew she'd look good in it. With trepidation, she flipped over the price tag and gasped. Her bright blue eyes widened in shock as she hastily dropped it and hung it back up and stepped away as if it had just caught fire. "Wow, no I don't."

Zara often came in here to window shop. It wasn't often that she had an excuse to wear evening dress. As a ballerina, her costumes were often pretty fancy and expensive but they weren't something she could go out on the street in or anything. Most of the time, she looked like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Zara!

Her name rang out like a bell clanging in her ears. It sounded like a dill sergeant. She spun around and instantly wished she hadn't. Luciana Bertinelli was the type of girl who put the fear of God into the average mortal. The blonde's eyes widened in both shock and fear. Prosper didn't speak much about his clandestine rendezvous but her name had come up. Zara imagined now that the shorter girl was about to punish her for her ex boyfriend's mistakes.

The ballerina stood perfectly still as she was embraced, pausing only to awkwardly pat Luciana on the back as she was kissed. Eventually, she managed a rather tepid smile. "Fine thanks," she answered in a voice quite unlike her own. To say that she was scared of Luciana was an understatement. She was one of those dark and broody girls. The type that could freeze you with a single look. Luciana could easily ruin anyone, which was why Zara hadn't gone near her for a long time.

"Oh, no, I don't -- ow," Zara whined as the brunette yanked her forward. Like a ragdoll, she had no choice but to follow her. She didn't think either of them had anything in common, besides Prosper. Zara hadn't seen him or heard from him in weeks. For a while, she'd been upset but then Diederik had pretty much moved in and the warehouse felt more like a home. A love nest. It was pretty cosy without her overbearing dancer pal. She just hoped Luciana wasn't going to ask where he was because she couldn't give her an answer.

The ballerina stood awkwardly behind her, hovering. Luciana had a very womanly shape, all hips and curves. Zara, on the other hand, was all bone and muscle. She was slim but powerful. With an up and down figure, these dresses would look good but on Luciana, they'd look downright indecent. The blonde chewed on her lower lip as she didn't say anything, half out of politeness but mostly out of fear.

Zara cleared her throat as she folded her hands in front of her, subconsciously trying to shrink and take up as less space as humanly possible. "Colour?" She asked. Luciana was a wealthy girl so she assumed she could buy whatever she wanted to. "Going somewhere nice?" She ventured as a rather pitiful stab at small talk.

Luciana flashed a convincing smile at Zara as she let go of the blonde’s wrist, “I’m so glad you’re here.” With zero hesitation the Italian snatched the dress back from the assistant and dismissed her with a glare. “Useless.” She offered by way of an explanation to Zara, rolling her eyes.

It was most fortunate that of all people who could possibly have been in this particular store on a drizzly day in Paris that it would be someone Luciana knew – and knew well enough to be able to coerce into assisting her. Zara was a bit of a pushover, a people-pleaser. The Ombrelune had picked up on that early in their years at Beauxbatons, and since used this to her advantage.

Someone who was genuinely interested in their companion might ask why they were here, or what had been going on in their lives lately; idle chit-chat. Luciana could small-talk if she needed to, but with someone like Zara it was unnecessary. “I don’t know, something bold,” as if that needed to be made clear, “no white. Or black. Dreadfully morbid.” she added as an afterthought. Luciana sighed a little dramatically at Zara's question, “I’m going to a symphony, and I have absolutely nothing to wear.” She held up the blue number in front of her for Zara to look at, “Too prudish?” she asked, referring to the high neckline and long sleeves.

Zara winced visibly at Luciana's rather callous treatment of the sales assistant and she mouthed the word "sorry" at the poor girl as she looked like she might burst into tears. Unsure of what to say, she offered the brunette a rather brittle smile. She didn't like this. Zara loved her comfort zone and she hated being shunted out of it. Most of her friends were male. Why? Because she didn't like the bitchiness and the cattiness that inevitably came with it.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Luciana that black was timeless and classy but she was clearly on target to make a statement and she nodded. Black never went out of style and Madame Maxime used to wear a lot of it and she looked glamorous of heck.  Shopping with and for other women was an absolute minefield. The two girls looked nothing alike. Zara had never had curves or boobs and she didn't think the Italian would look good in her type of dresses.

Zara blinked her big blue eyes. "Baby," she addressed Luciana with a grimace. "Is this symphony being held in a convent? Non. No." With that, she snatched the dress from her fingers and hung it back on the rail. The first thing she thought of was red. Against Luciana's dark hair and olive skin, it was sure to turn heads and red was never a quiet colour.

Like a magpie, Zara's eyes were caught by a floaty and daring red number. She daren't ask Luciana what her size was so she made an estimated guess as she held the dress out to the shorter girl for her to take. "That's a gorgeous colour on you," she insisted as she jerked her head towards the dressing room before pausing. "This one, too," she added as she held out another gown. Zara knew it wouldn't suit Luciana. It needed a tall frame to carry it off. With the brunette's curves and the sweetheart neckline, there was every danger that a tit might pop out.

Yanking the curtain shut behind the former Ombrelune student, Zara turned and perused the rails, occasionally picking dresses out and holding them against her bony frame. "Who are you going to the symphony with?" She called out. And why did no one invite  me? Zara thought sulkily.

Luciana looked at Zara appreciatively as the blonde took the blue dress from her hands. Part of her wanted to be offended that the Papillonlisse had dismissed her first choice so quickly, but another, larger part of her was impressed. The Italian did want an honest opinion, after all. Really, she should have brought one of her male cousins with her. It might seem a little inappropriate, but at least they’d tell her if she looked good from a man’s perspective. As it was, Zara was her only hope.

“Oh,” the brunette’s eyes widened as Zara pulled out a red gown. The elemental held the dress up to her front, her free hand playing with the floaty fabric of the skirt. Her hazel eyes flicked up to meet Zara’s and a knowing grin spread across Luciana’s lips; yes, she did look good in red. She knew it. She’d been told many a time, but it never hurt to hear it again. “Hm,” her brow furrowed lightly as Zara produced a second option. “I’m not sure, I’ll try them both.”

She slipped into one of the dressing rooms and began stripping down to her underwear (really, she should have gone strapless today, but she hadn’t thought about it until she was already here). Luciana’s ears pricked up at hearing Zara continue speaking to her through the curtain. “Oh, just my cousins. It’s a family thing. We do it every year.” She said nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Realistically, to Luciana, it wasn’t. She had bigger and better things to do, but she also didn’t mind hobnobbing for a night at someone else’s cost.

As she finished sliding into the first (well, technically second, she'd gone for the sweetheart neckline) dress Luciana pulled back the curtain, stepping out and turning to expose the unzipped back, her lacey black bra strap in stark contrast to her pale skin. “Could you?” she said, quietly but not timidly, pulling her long dark hair out of the way. Was this what it was to have a friend? Or, close to. Luciana had almost forgotten; too busy holed up being bitter and alone. When she’d been in school there had been people around all the time – she could just reach out at any time for whatever social interaction she wanted or needed. It was much harder as an adult. You had to actually make an effort. Maybe she would have to start. “How is your dancing going?” she said flatly, as if to try and make this whole exchange less awkward, but in doing so probably making it more so.