getoffyourfeetandmakethiscount asked: Lydia and Mary go to the mall.
It's embarrassing, but Mary actually likes some of the stuff at Hot Topic.
Her Contemporary Political Theory professor would be disappointed, having spent a good part of last semester lecturing blandly on illusory happiness and the inevitable decline of capitalism. Mary can recite her lecture on Baudrillard and consumer-oriented societies almost word for word.
It's easy for Professor Monfort's voice in her head to be drowned out, however, by Lydia's continual exclamations. Mary isn't sure how Lydia manages to find anything to be excited about; she goes through the garment racks so fast. Everything Lydia does is a blur.
"OMG." Lydia has a habit of pronouncing abbreviations, like text-shorthand is her natural language. "This. Would look perf," she holds up a dark hoodie.
It has a skull on the back, and Mary wants to roll her eyes at the predictably macabre design. Clearly this corporation was trying to cash in on the faux-emo posers of the teenage world.
"That's practically Amish by your standards, but far be it from me to stop you from buying something that isn't pink, rhinestones, or form fitting."
They'd been to Victoria's Secret just before this, and Mary had seen some things. She suppresses a shiver.
"We're not shopping here for me, you dork. Not that I wouldn't rock all of these looks, but I like my adorbs way too much for this depresso stuff. You should try it on!"
Mary is caught off guard, as always, that someone is thinking of her. She must have missed that portion of Lydia's chatter, and she feels a stab of guilt. Lydia is looking at her with pure, unadulterated elation. Lydia's happy to be around her. It's unnerving.
Mary's sure Lydia is that way with everyone, though.
"Fine," she grabs the hanger and tries not to sound too excited, "But just this one."