Callie watched with something like rapture on her face. Magic... had a certain allure to it. It was especially enthralling as the color gold shimmered along the guitar strings, running along its smooth sides and twisting through Zachary. She'd never really seen any magic in practice except for her own. And to say the least, her magic wasn't anything particularly fascinating or brilliant. Just a few colors that when put together somehow formed a coherent spell that made something happen. Or stopped something from happening. Almost like a generic witch, minus the words. Which was particularly odd and even odder to explain. So she since stopped even attempting to tell people what she was whenever she came across the chance to use magic, which was quite rare.
"That is great," she told him in this level honesty, without gushing or enthusiasm but with a sincerity that was hard to ignore anyway. She stated it as a nearly indisputable fact.
She looked like she was about to say something more before a slender, delicate hand landed on her shoulder. Visibly, Callie tensed before identifying the person. Grace, the person who'd been shrieking earlier. Callie marginally relaxes, a brow lifting in question to Grace. Unquestionably, Grace was the 'beautiful' sister. Oh, you know, the best of the brood, making the others seem less. Grace was more slender and taller, barely any lighter in complexion than Callie, with long brown waves and a light delicate cast of freckles with sensuous features and blue eyes similar to Callie's, minus the vibrancy of her eyes.
"If you'd stop your flirting could you get back in the kitchen? I have to go meet Robin." Grace was more or less demanding, her tone slightly malicious.
Callie, by the looks of it, wasn't affected. Instead, Callie deliberately pulled out the chair across from Zachary, made sure it was clean (more of an attempt to make Grace wait) and seated herself. The tilt of Callie's chin suggested a mulish stubbornness.
"I didn't have to come in today. It's your day. I'm not going back in the kitchen," Callie spoke evenly, in this practical, factual way. She sounded polite with the same detachment she spoke to Zachary in.
Grace's eyes narrowed. She drew herself up to her full height, possibly only two inches taller than Callie. "Don't be spiteful, just because Robin chose me instead of you," she hissed.
Callie's eyebrows lifted in this, 'excuse me?' way. "I don't remember ever competing."
"That's not what Robin said." There was definite smugness in her voice.
"Then he's as crazy as you." Factually spoken. Nothing malicious in her tone, just as if Callie was speaking as if it were the weather.
Grace's face turned red, stomping her foot in a way that screamed spoiled brat. She spun around, her jaw set angrily and ignoring the men trying to console her and distract her from her obvious anger. Callie almost grinned. Almost. She stopped herself in time.
She opted for shaking her head instead, looking at Zachary. "I suggest if you run into her again this evening, avoid her. She won't be happy." Callie told him honesty, just a friendly warning for him. "She's not a bad person. Just crazy," she said, mostly off-handedly, feeling an obligation to try to do right by her sister. A kind of protectiveness.
