Basil grinned as Ms. Victoire nudged him in return with her light quip. He loved how uncomplicated a parry could be with her; she was quite easily becoming one of his few best friends and he would be forever grateful for it. “Not at all,” the brunette replied gallantly. “You are the pinnacle of perfect, as always.” He smiled then, raising his glass in a small, teasing toast. It was said with all the honesty and truth he dared however. Ms. Victoire was a marvelous woman. If only there were more like her, perhaps he’d have been inclined to marry before— Basil blushed at the turn of thought his mind had taken and decided to bury his nose in his drink to sweep it aside. (A mistake that would shatter lives.)For a moment, all was calm. The drink went down with a slightly unusual sensation, something that smelled far too pleasant considering what he’d expected from a measly glass of…whatever this was. (Gin, perhaps?) Basil took a moment to revel in it before he looked up and settled his gaze once more upon Ms. Victoire Malfoy. By George, she did look lovely tonight didn’t she? Basil wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed before how… how splendidly perfect the petite woman was. Her dress acutely accented the color of her brilliant, mind-bogglingly gorgeous red hair, and her jewelry seemed to hang as if droplets of water upon a marble statue the Greeks carved themselves. She was… in a word: breathtaking.
Feeling a stupid, languishing smile stretch across his face, Basil made no movement to step away from the lady as he might have on any other occasion. He liked being quite close to her, something he’d never realized before. She was so delicate, so pretty up close. “Might I be so forward this evening as to say you are always a marvel, Victoire,” Basil heard himself say. Somehow, the mix of some slight inebriation with this last drink had made him brazen. He lifted a hand gently to her face, brushing his knuckles against her cheek ever so fleetingly. “I’m ashamed to realize I’ve never admitted it before,” he whispered.