When she arrives at the party, all eyes are immediately on her. Endora can begrudgingly admit that she isn't as young as she once was, but it pleases her that she can still turn the head of every warlock she comes across. Dressed in silver, complete with a headpiece that sparkles brightly in her red hair, she is a shooting star in the dull galaxy of partygoers, most of who are already too smashed to remember that it is New Year's Eve.
When Maurice sees her, he quickly waves his hand in front of the curvaceous blonde beside him, causing her to disappear. He is still in awe of his wife, despite the fact that their last encounter ended in an argument, and she deserves his undivided attention. It isn't even her party, and yet Endora walks among the guests like a queen, stopping to laugh with one for a moment. The sound sends a thrill through his entire being, stronger than anything he feels when eyeing a young witch like the one who had been taking up his time only moments ago.
Finally she spots him, and their eyes meet. Endora has never gotten used to the feeling, the butterflies in her stomach that occur briefly as she gazes upon him, even when she swears she never wants to see him again. It angers her at times, that a warlock, even one she has spent countless centuries with, can make her feel that way.
Maurice steps forward and kisses her hand, his usual greeting these days. But he lingers, raising his face towards her, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
"I didn't know parties still amused you so," Endora comments, a bit surprised at his warm greeting.
He laughs and shakes his head as he rises to take her arm, hoping that he will have discouraged any other warlock from asking for a dance. "It's the company that makes all the difference. And besides my dear, it is New Years."
She squeezes his arm a bit more tightly after that statement, seeing that he truly is in a good mood. "That it is. I sent Samantha off to a party with Agatha Cromwell. You should see her Maurice, she's just radiant."
That makes him feel a bit guilty, it's not often that he visits with Samantha these days, but he doesn't show it. "Of course she is, after all, she's my daughter."
Endora laughs, and then rolls her eyes. "Don't take so much credit, you didn't have to do any of the hard work, but I suppose you might call her...ours."
"Ours," he repeats, as the orchestra starts up. The music is slow and soft, and he turns to face her, wrapping one arm around her waist, and placing her other hand in hers. There is no objection, Endora is never one to turn down a dance with an agreeable partner.
"And you're right," he quips in reply to her earlier statement. "My part wasn't very difficult...but it was quite enjoyable." The smirk on his face makes his answer unmistakable, and Endora playfully hits his shoulder.
"You wound me, fair lady," he teases as the song comes to an end. Midnight is practically upon them, and he doesn't want to let her go, intent on achieving the kiss he's been aching for since she arrived.
It's ironic to Endora, that she is spending her New Years with the man she thought she had left in the past so many times. But in that moment she knows they will never really be done with each other, and not just because of Samantha. She leans in close, the scent of champagne on his breath mixing with her perfume.
"To new beginnings," Maurice whispers.
5
4
3
2
1...
And they are oblivious to all the cheers around them, wrapped up in a sudden and familiar passion. They are gone a moment later, eager to be alone and start the new year on a pleasurable note...