"Isn't that a bit presumptuous to wear to dinner?" Haswell said as he crossed the threshold of his bedroom and reached for her.
"I'm a Blenntmort for a reason," Roxanne said, then smiled.
Seeing her crystal blue eyes gleam under the clear lights of his bedroom, Haswell moved closer and kissed her on the neck. "I've missed you," he whispered softly into her ears.
"I know." He wrapped his hand around her face to force an actual kiss, but she pulled away. "The time isn't right for such licentiousness, darling. I don't want to get all my make-up smeared." Roxanne said.
What could he do if she felt that way? He could tell her that she was beautiful anyway and that she didn't need to worry about such thriftiness. But knowing the woman he was about to marry, she wouldn't listen.
"We should hurry down now or we will be late, darling. I don't want to upset my mother. Dinner's already been put back because of me." Roxanne said.
