Savannah was dressed to the nines – her hair pulled to one side, so that gentle curls of auburn were draped over the delicate curve of her exposed shoulder, smiling at the man who was standing in front of her. The smile should have been genuine, since most women were more than thrilled to get all dressed up, and wear suicide heels and bat their lashes at people, but she was just trying not be rude as the older gentleman rambled on about some sort of auction he had attended, where he had been the highest bidder on an old set of peacock quills. She lifted her brows to feign interest, and nodded her head along with what he was saying before she lifted her glass of champagne to her lips, taking a long, much needed sip before she lowered her glass and rolled her lips under, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

She did enjoy getting all dressed up, but…Savannah had always been the type of girl who would much rather be hanging around in jeans and a t-shirt, and had always been the one to be wrestle around in the mud with the guys instead of taking ballet lessons, or doing something else little girls were supposed to do. Having a twin brother definitely had an impact on her hobbies and interests, so standing there in a dress wasn’t really…her. The only reason she had come was because she felt obligated, since it was for a good cause, and because someone in particular had decided to join her.

That person met her eyes the next time she took a glance out to the crowd, and his soft blue eyes held her attention, this time smiling genuinely for the first time since she had been standing there listening to the old man. She would turn to her company, not wanting to appear rude, like she was completely ignoring him. After she realized he wasn’t going to stop talking unless she said something, she reached out to place a hand on his arm.

“I’m so sorry, will you please excuse me?”

A kind smile, and the old man nodded, warranting another smile (thankful, and apologetic this time), finally able to turn away from him to approach the Quidditch star who had been stopped by a few fans – sports writers, who she had tried to warn him again – stopping once she found a place in the small circle he had been standing in, gently clearing her throat to get the group’s attention

“I hope I’m not interrupting….”

Oh, she knew she was, but she didn’t care. Her eyes locked onto Geoff Brand’s, her target, stepping towards him so she could place a hand on his arm.

“Mind if I borrow you?”

Graeme knew that things had been rough for Liz – and that was putting things lightly. He wished there was more he could do for her, and tried to be there for her whenever she needed him, even if she didn’t say it. After being best friends with her for all these years, he knew when she couldn’t handle things on her own, and when she needed a shoulder to lean on.

This time, however, he had gotten specific instructions to come over and retrieve the gifts she had bought for his son, Jackson – God, that kid was his entire world. After talking to Liz, he always felt compelled to kiss Giada, and tell his wife and his son how much he loved them – the thought of something like what happened to Liz ever happening to him was terrifying, and it broke his heart, which just made him feel even more sorry for his friend.

But he hated feeling sorry for her, because he knew she didn’t want him, or anyone else to. He always tried to act like things were okay, around Liz – try and get her back into the swing of things, since, well…she didn’t have many other people left, and he loved Liz too much to let her go through all of this on her own. So, he told Giada that he would be gone – for how long, he wasn’t sure – and that if she needed to contact him, where he would be. Another set of kisses to his wife’s lips and his son’s forehead, and he was off on his way.

Arriving at her place, he lifted a hand to curl his fist into a ball and rap his knuckles against the door. Stepping back, he hooked his thumbs into his pockets and waited for the petite blonde to open the door.