signed_sabrina | (no subject)

Sabrina Spellman is turning seventeen tonight.

Honestly, in the time since her sixteenth birthday, she's seriously doubted that she would make it to this day-- and certainly doubted that she would be free from the Path of Night and the Path of Night, able to do as she pleases. She's not sure she can say she expected anything that's happened to her over the year, really, not a single thing.

But standing outside the warehouse Kavinsky has thoughtfully offered for her use, in a somewhat accurate Halloween costume, she's absolutely happier than she ever foresaw. Where she'd been worried about losing her boyfriend and best friends, she's got three people she loves so much she can hardly stand it, in entirely different ways. Where she'd had a ghost or worse for a father, she has a dad who knows who she is, her capabilities, and loves her only for being herself. She misses her aunts and Ambrose, but knowing that she's still back with them is of great comfort. She can't say she's doing much better on the high school front, but she's not sure she cares.

Enough people seem fascinated by the sex cult rumors that when she and Salem had littered both high school campuses, Sabrina had got plenty of takers. The party itself will start soon, and Sabrina looks up, comforted by the lack of full moon. Taking her broom, she carefully sweeps each step clean, feeling the ritual settle her. The warehouse inside looks a lot like a clearing in the woods, complete with bonfire, and if the punch is spiked, well-- it is a high school party.

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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.

"How many glasses of that punch have you had, Sabrina?" she asks, laughingly chiding as the other girl wraps herself around her murmuring all those silly compliments in her ear. "I don't even know what it's spiked with, but it's strong."

Her own head is spinning a little, thanks to the two glasses of punch she's already had, and it's easy for Rosie to lean into her friend as they both stand there. It's close and intimate and friendly--and much more than friendly--and if Rosie's hand wanders a little, skimming along the curve of Sabrina's back, it's only understandable.

"Only a couple," Sabrina hums in her ear, hardly releasing her. "I'm fine, I promise." She's feeling warm and easy, and despite the possibility of eyes on them, watching, she's also feeling utterly secure.

Sabrina's own hand skims up Rosie's side, and then around to her back, giving the ribbon lacing the bodice a tug. "What a lovely corset you're wearing tonight," she says, warm and pleasant. "I really do love it."

"Why, thank you," she says, her breath catching for a moment as Sabrina pulls at the laces, the motion edged with that sweet possessiveness that comes so easily to her friend. Rosie's tried hard not to give up any secrets around what she and Nick have planned for Sabrina's birthday, but it's definitely been on her mind more and more the closer they get to the end of the party--and all of Sabrina's lazy fumbling and murmured praise is certainly not helping in the least.

Not that she minds at all.

"I wasn't sure about the corset at first, you know," she admits, her tone easy and conversational, even a little playful. "But someone whose opinion I trust had some very persuasive thoughts on the matter, the day I bought it." Rosie grins, her hand sliding down to find what she can of the swell of Sabrina's ass through the flouncy skirt of her costume. "It was a terribly convincing argument."