Gabriel / Zania
Getting invited to a fancy dress party had caught Gabriel a bit off-guard, but he’d been happy to accept when Zania pitched it to him. Even though she’d told him a bit about her family, it was difficult to remember that she was one of these rich people. She just seemed so down to earth. As much as a fire witch could be, anyway. Definitely not spoiled rotten, at least. With her help, he’d put together something decent to wear, and Gabriel had left all the animals at home to pick her up. It might not have been his crowd, but it was a date, so Zania deserved a ride.
His tux was mostly black with just a few pops of red, simple enough and elegant. Gabriel had been rather tempted to wear a dashiki or something else African and brightly colored, sure he would be the only black person there, but he’d decided against it. He didn’t want to make waves just yet, not with his business and position in this town being so new. So he would just follow Zania’s lead, and dress to the theme. Black and red were good colors.
As they arrived and walked into the country club, Gabriel reached for her hand and glanced offer to offer her a little smile. “It’s open bar, right? You want a drink?” he asked.
Despite her best efforts, Zania was nervous. Not about the gala itself, she’d been to plenty of them over the years and knew enough people that she fit in, even if she didn’t always look it, but about inviting Gabriel. She didn’t know what he’d think about this side of her life, of where she came from and how her parents could be, and she really didn’t want to run him off. But none of that was going to change. She was always going to have rich, snooty parents who had rich, snooty friends. The benefit to rubbing elbows with them was that it drummed up business and kept her in the know. And, occasionally, these things were fun. She just hoped that Gabriel would feel the same way, that everyone would get along and have a good time.
She wore a black and red sequined dress, with fishnets and heels. It looked like something out of the fifties and Zania had considered putting black gloves with it, but decided she’d just end up carrying them if she did. She was glad now, as she preferred to feel Gabriel’s hand in hers, a little skin on skin contact to chase away her nerves. “Yes, definitely,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager, but a drink would also help her nerves. “Drinks first, then we can decide what we want to do.”