kissing death and loosing my breath

The young witch couldn't help the fashion at which she rolled her eyes, her head shaking ever so slightly in an exasperated fashion. "I'll have you know that due to the acidic nature of vinegar, it can last up to five years regardless of whatever the ridiculous 'expiration date' says!" She pointed out in a disgruntled fashion, clearly entirely unwilling to admit that her culinary abilities were entirely worthless. She did have some skills, didn't she?! There was a small humph to her lips as she declared the man leave her to find whatever her sparse kitchen seemed to lack. Her arms folded over her chest, glancing upwards at him only at his inquiry, a small fleeting simper crossing her sweet heart lips. "Strawberries?" She inquired, presenting him with large, grey puppy dog eyes, clearly begging for the fruit in some childish fashion. It was only with the promise he'd return with her strawberries that caused Serafina to allow him to leave. In his absence, Serafina took the opportunity to finish his dicing, cutting with precision that come from years of slicing and dicing herbs. If there was any one area she knew of cooking, it was surely that one.

She busied herself as best as possible whilst he was gone attempting to at least remain useful in some aspect. His disappointment of her kitchen had affected the young girl more then she had perhaps been willing to admit. Her stormy grey eyes glanced up at the sound of his voice as he walked through her door, her simper faltering immediately at the young girl that stepped in behind him. Her lips were pressed together ever so slightly, her grey tinged gaze following their newest guest. She certainly hadn't anticipated for Davante to bring home another woman to their "date" evening - much less then proceed to ignore her all together. A small frown crossed her lips, her gaze slowly being dragged from the female to Davante's questioning gaze. Her gaze darted towards the woman then back to the man standing in front of her. "You don't....?" She inquired, her sentence never fully forming on her sweet heart lips. Serafina wasn't quite sure what was going on. She didn't understand why he seemed so oblivious, why he seemed not to notice her. What she was certain of, however, was that something was about to happen...she just wasn't exactly sure what.

Serafina noted the fashion at which the woman looked at Davante, her eyebrows furrowing as her arms crossed beneath her bosom in an almost annoyed fashion. "What is it to you?" She inquired, her stormy eyes narrowing. It was quite clear to her that whomever the female was - she clearly had a history with him, one that seemed to be romantically inclined based on the way that the woman looked at the warlock. Her gaze shifted back towards Davante at the sound of his baritone voice, her head shaking ever so slightly. She was clearly confused, her gaze drifting again at the woman's voice, noting the proximity at which she stood next to him, her touch lingering upon him with a genteel, lovers caress. Serafina stepped away cautiously, her eyes shifting between the two as she began to realize that she had become the intruding third party. Compared to this woman....Serafina had no claim upon him. Her head shook from side to side again, her ebony locks stiring ever so slightly in the process. She could deal with it, if he'd just told her he wasn't interested. If he'd just said he'd made a mistake she would have understood, to some degree but this. This was just cruel. "Why would you bring her here?" She whispered softly, a subtle but present hint of hurt settled within her soprano voice.