Sabrina doesn't give Rosie time to prepare for the armful of handsy witch that's tossed at her, and if her own gaze is imperious and pleased when turned on the interloper, she only compounds it with the kiss that's far closer to the corner of Rosie's mouth than her cheek. The way her arm slides around the neatly corseted waist will surely be a factor too. Very friendly, if that's what one wants to see-- and very intimate.

"You, my dear, wild rose," and it's possible Sabrina's a little tipsy, "do not look like a fish at all. You look amazing. A queen of the night."

She leans against Rosie's shoulder, utterly content as she watches the party spin around them.