Disclaimer: I still don't own, so don't hate on me.
A/N This was my entry for the November 2011 edition of the Iron Pen Challenge. This time, we had to tell the story from the point of view of an article of clothing. I chose Bella's grey cashmere sweater, which she wore in the final scene of Too Young for Me and Confessions of an Idiot. Thanks Detochkina from Project Team Beta for looking over my shoulder!
The Brief Adventures of a Grey Cashmere Sweater
When I was first put on display in the Victoria's Secret shop on Bellevue Square in Seattle, Washington in February, I never could have imagined where I would end up and with whom. I was hoping I would be bought for a beautiful woman who would wear me with pride, maybe as a gift from her lover or husband. I was already imagining my luxurious future surroundings: silk curtains, thick carpets, leather sofa, satin sheets, candle light, romantic music... So, to make sure I would obtain these dreams, I tried to present myself to the best of my abilities. It really wasn't too hard: I was a grey cashmere sweater, after all. I know, grey usually isn't a very appealing color, but my shade of grey would look good with any skin tone, and the designer had been smart enough to provide styling options. I was supposed to be worn with wool leggings in a variety of colors, and maybe a pretty scarf or necklace.
February passed, and I hadn't left the shop yet. It made sense; people were more inclined to buy frilly, lacy lingerie for Valentine's Day. But after that, the cold winter weather would definitely move them to buy something warmer and more comfortable. I bid my time.
It was a dreary Friday afternoon in early March when my life changed. I would be bought today, I just knew it. A vibrant young girl walked into the shop, talking animatedly on her phone.
'Yes, Jazzy, I know. I'll be quick. Just need to pick up something for Bella. She's been so down, locking herself in our room...' she sighed. 'Well, this won't fix it, but maybe she'll feel a little better with a gift. I know it always helps me. Right, I'll see you in an hour. Bye, baby.'
She purposefully walked over to where I was waiting and rifled through the pile of me and my sisters.
Please tell me you need my size, I thought hopefully.
She took hold of my tag and smiled.
Yes! I'm the one!
I ended up in a bag with a pair of plum leggings and matching striped tube socks. We greeted each other excitedly and exchanged thoughts about where we were going.
'This lady's sister?' the leggings wondered.
'Maybe. Or a friend,' I offered. 'I hope she's as nice as the lady who bought us.'
'I just hope she doesn't have smelly feet,' the socks grimaced, to which we all laughed.
Our questions were soon answered as we felt our bag exchange hands once more.
'Just a little something to cheer you up,' the lady from the shop explained. 'And comfy doesn't exclude cute, so I figured this would look adorable on you.'
Bella reached into the bag and took us out. The first thing I noticed was a ratty high school sweater, obviously worn too much. It sighed with fatigue; it was ready to retire. I frowned. What kind of person would we be wrapped around? But then I caught sight of the face that went with the sweater. Pale, creamy skin. Deep brown eyes with long lashes. Full lips. The girl - yes, she wasn't quite a woman yet - was beautiful. I did worry, though, about the lack of expression in her eyes. What was troubling her?
A few hours later, we were all snuggling on the couch. Nothing fancy, probably a student dorm. Bella was a nice owner, though. She didn't smell, her skin was soft, and from time to time she would stroke us lovingly. At one point, she started crying, however. I felt tears hit my neckline, and she pulled her hands back into my sleeves, wiping at her eyes. I did my best to provide comfort, making sure to be gentle against her skin. What was wrong?
That question was soon answered, as there was a knock on the door. She walked over to open it and we were met with a gorgeous specimen of man in a red plaid shirt, a black leather jacket and torn jeans. His clothes weren't cocky, though, like they would be if they had been bought in some hipster store. They looked well-worn, and sighed in greeting as they saw who they were meeting.
'Took him long enough,' the jacket exclaimed.
What followed was a lengthy discussion between our two owners. I wanted to smack some sense into the guy. He had obviously hurt my Bella deeply. He had said she was too young for him? The nerve! I cheered for Bella, though, by hugging her chest a little tighter, because she tore him a new one and told him he needed to man up and just be honest with the both of them. That seemed to spur him on, because he cupped her face in his hands and told her he loved her.
She gasped and stopped breathing. When she had recovered somewhat, things happened so fast.
Within minutes I was thrown across the room, landing on a desk.
I didn't care too much. My owner was happy, and I had helped her get there.
Just a little bit.