His eyes remained locked on Octavia's face as he down his latest glass, making sure to stretch the event out as long as possible. Rabastan held the glass to his lips for a few moments after the last of the liquid was gone, and with a sigh he dropped it back to the table, where it immediately refilled. Ah, magic.
"I am simply attempting to loosen up, my love," he drawled, sitting up and once again casting a glance over the reception. There were very few people there that Rabastan didn't hate, and were surprisingly only a few more that he knew. Who actually knew that his mother would be able to form such a guest list, though Rabastan supposed that Octavia may have had the ulterior motive of making sure everyone in the proper wizarding world knew that he was about to enter the end of his life.
Brilliant.
Taking in a deep breath through his nose, Rabastan looked back and over Octavia, eyebrows lifting. The dress she picked out was extravagant, to say the least, but it was nothing less than extraordinary. He would say it left him breathless, were he not already holding his breath in hopes of passing out and dying.
"Would you like to dance," he said, not moving from his seat.
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