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Then you saw him. He was easy to pick out of a crowd- pretty faced, long, girly braided black hair. That blue sash he insisted on wearing overtop everything no matter what it was. That hair like <span class="mu-i">his</span>, that blue like his cloak, they reminded you of Hell. Your father figure, your first love however unrequited, however much you didn’t know it. Magnus had captured some of that fading light that you remembered less perfectly than you hoped, and let you see it again.
Your feet carried you forward without thinking, and he didn’t notice you until you were practically right in front of him. Was it the dress? The glasses? Both? Had he expected you in something else? You wouldn’t say the first word, at least, you’d resolved yourself to that, as you stopped six paces from Magnus and waited, arms at your sides, expectant. Butterflies in your stomach like the last time you’d met him, cursed little bugs whose only favor was that they waited to hatch and swarm around until the shells had stopped flying near the two of you.
He bowed, ever so slightly, with a reverence you felt wrong to show towards you, but he ever did as he felt- and you couldn’t help but like that.
“Lady Nowicki,” he led off. <span class="mu-i">Lady Nowicki</span>. That way he insisted on calling you, even if it irritated you. He peered at you, a confused tilt to his eyebrows for a moment at your clothes, but that hint vanished when he arrived at your eyes, and the spectacles atop them.
Then you realized that each of you was waiting for the other to do something. Just like before…damn it all. At least this time you weren’t sauced up.
>What was there to think about? Girls kiss their boyfriends. Don’t be a pussy, snog him.
>Give him a hug. Even if you weren’t sure how he felt, you were close enough for that, weren’t you?
>Salute. Silly as it would be in this dress, it was the mutual respect you knew you shared.
>Other?
