She was wearing the red blazer, the one that tapered in at the waist and was ruffled at the back like a bustle. It was lovely, one of his favorites, and one that reminded him of days long since passed—days when Grelle very probably should have been wearing a dress and bustle but never would have gotten away with it.
She turned back and forth in front of the mirror, nervous, fretting, smoothing out the already smooth fabric over her waist and stomach, plucking at loose strands escaped from the high ponytail she'd managed her hair into. Even contained it still fell all the way down her back. Grelle frowned at herself in the mirror—never up to the standard in her head.
Buttoning the last of the buttons on his shirt, Sebastian stepped up behind her and met her eye in the mirror.
"You almost look respectable," he said and smiled.
She pursed her lips. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"In its way."
"Well, you're terrible for it. Don't open up a practice."
He laughed and she returned to her inspection, picking little invisible bits of fluff off the blazer and sprinkling them onto the floor.
"Stop it, Grelle. You look fine."
He took her hands when she did not stop and forced her to turn from the mirror and face him. She frowned.
"Just 'fine'?"
"Radiant, beautiful, exquisite, lovely—take your pick."
She glanced over at herself in the mirror. "I want to look…responsible, but fun."
"I'm not sure 'responsible' is a look you could ever achieve, my love."
Narrowing her eyes, she clicked her tongue at him and batted him away though she smiled and the gesture was playful. They were collecting their infant Shinigami today and Grelle had been fretting about it all week, laying out several thousand different outfits, practicing walking, shaking hands, speaking respectfully (which came with some difficulty), even signing her name. She wouldn't allow any ounce of lack of preparation on her part to keep her from getting what she wanted.
He put his hands on her shoulders. "What I mean to say is don't worry. Everything will work out as it should."
She sighed and pulled the blazer straight by tugging on the bottom hem. "I suppose you're right."
"Though you do seem to wear a lot of red. We ought to expand your wardrobe."
She tossed saucy gaze back at him, her eyes half veiled by their lids. "Said the man who only wears black."
He smiled into her face. "White today."
"Dress shirts don't count," she replied and moved away, tossing a hand in the air before tossing him his tie—black, appropriately. "Hurry up. I don't want to be late."
She grabbed her bag from the back of the door and was clicking her heels into the hall before he even had the tie around his neck, so he had to catch up as he made the knot. She paused at the bottom of the stairs to look back at him.
"Oh, and roll your sleeves up. I don't want us to look too stuffy."