Prologue:
Set in Aoi's POV - not much in character, but I like the dude, so I made his thoughts, in a way, talkative. And don't worry about the future chapters, they're not going to be this wordy.
enjoy the prologue for now...
"500,000 yen?! Are you kidding me?!"
I asked to no one in particular except to my disbelieving self, as my face leaned flat on the sheet of glass.
Well, it wouldn't make sense to cheapen something as sophisticated as a state of the art sewing name on the box said 'Cloth Bond One Thousand' - what a stupid name.
I looked at my chapped, prickled hand and wondered if it would be worth sacrificing 4 months' worth of lunch money just to buy the darn thing. It would certainly cut my dress-making timeframe in half, and maybe I wouldn't end up with soar fingers in the morning.
Then again, it doesn't really matter, since the means are just as fun for me as the end. So long as I'm able to contribute to the cuteness of this ugly world, it's worth it.
I pushed the detail of the shop into memory. Maybe when I'm not so constricted budget-wise I'll be able to buy it. I spent all my allowance in some high quality materials for my new dress I didn't have enough cash for one lousy snack.
But this sacrifice threatens to be wasted without a descent design, the lack of which has forced me out of my house in search of an inspiration.
Normally, if not making dresses, I'd spend the entire day brandishing my identity as net-idol Aoi. Taking poses, mixing dresses and adjusting colors. Yes, that's right- I'm the center of my own world, and no one can deny me this since every other world out there doesn't except someone like me.
And so my stroll took me to the park, momentarily forgetting the sewing machine, and silently praying it would still be there by the time I get the money.
As I was considering the practicality of it all, I stumbled upon a familiar face – an infuriatingly cute, yet neglected face.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright without me?"
"One-chan, this isn't my first time in a flea market. I'll be fine by myself."
"But there are a lot of dangerous people out here."
"I doubt they'd show up in a public place like this, especially this early in the afternoon."
I ventured closer just to confirm it was in fact the ugly hag. In front of her, someone strangely familiar was kneeling on a sprawled mat, surrounded by a bunch of seemingly worthless stuff.
"Oi, Misaki-chi."
"Aoi-chan!" she gave me a smile as if my presence was pleasant. I gave them both my default scowl, but neither of them seemed affected, since Misaki knows it's who I am, and the younger version of her didn't seem to have any other face than the one that she currently has.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I just helped my sister set up her goods. Oh, perfect timing!" she said, tapping a fist on her palm as an idea seemed to have struck her. I already knew it's going to be bothersome. "Is it okay if you spend the rest of the afternoon with Suzuna?"
"One-chan, that's not necessary."
The girl said, obviously intending to spare me the trouble. But her older sister paid no heed and stepped closer to me.
"Will you please? She can take care of herself, I just want someone to keep her company."
"Okay, but what's in it for me?" I asked, purposely taking a villainous and selfish tone. Misaki should be aware by now that I don't really do things out of kindness.
"Hmmm, good question."
She placed a pair of fingers on her chin as if in deep thought, but I knew she was just toying with me. Okay fine, maybe I can be a nice person sometimes, but that doesn't mean I do things without compensation. Like I said, I'm still the center of my own world.
She finally decided on something and scratched her head, smiling and saying thus: "Nope, couldn't think of any. Oh well, worth the shoot! Suzuna, be home for dinner, okay?"
"Okay. Bye-bye!" the girl blankly bid, waiving at her sister like a cat pawing a string.
"See you around, Aoi-chan!"
In what seemed like a new method of harassment, Misaki leaned towards me and placed a quick kiss on my cheek. It was an unexpected phenomenon, which left me screaming curses at her retreating form while I blushed mad and vigorously wiped the spot where her lips landed, pretending it didn't effect me in the slightest.
Unfortunately it did. That bastard Usui must've told Misaki that I have a crush on her. Sneaky, intuitive jack-a-
"Would you like to buy a bottle of alcohol?"
The bored, disinterested voice cut through my thoughts, and I instantly remembered that someone else was present there.
I gave her a long, good look and considered her appearance as she handed the cheap bottle of alcohol to me.
Age? Probably mine, maybe a year younger. Height? Short, not much to say about that. Figure? Thin, at least judging by how she's seating there, clad in an insulting choice of clothing. I heaved a sigh of frustration – bad taste must run in the family. Complexion? A bit tan, fair, and seemingly – smooth?
No, I did not think her skin looked smooth.
"No thanks." I said.
"How about a can-opener? Or bag of sparkly marbles?"
Seriously? A can-opener?
"No."
"Maybe a pair of second hand shades? It goes well with the sunny days. And also a sunblock to protect your fair skin."
Did she just gave me a compliment?
"Look, I don't want any of your stupid stuff, alright?"
Whether she was slow to process a thought, or considering another sales-pitch was already beyond me. But it was clear in her emotionless eyes that there was something going on in her head. Part of me dreaded the possibility of having offended her, and having to answer to a monstrous older sister in the future, but she didn't say anything. She just looked at me in a very penetrating way, so penetrating in fact that it made me think she was already stripping me in her mind.
The thought made me blush, but it was creepy, so I shove it away quickly.
"Very well." She said, placing the items back on the mat.
Phew, glad that was over.
"How about a discount?"
"I SAID NO!"
God, a few minutes with her and I'm already tired. I shifted between legs for support, not intending to move from where I stood, but not really in the mood to leave. That stupid kiss Misaki gave had a profound effect – it was clearly a reward before the deed, and of course, having received the reward upfront, I'd have to do the deed.
Not that I'd ever consider her un-cute kiss a reward.
While I busied myself with pointless denial, my fellow teen seemed content into staring at me, and in comes that creepy vibe again.
After a while, perhaps noticing my legs getting tired, she started re-arranging her products and made ample space beside her.
"Would you like to sit down?" she asked.
I looked at her incredulously. "Is it for free?"
"Yes."
I struggled in my way towards the allotted space, trying to avoid some of her goods that were located strategically. She seemed content in keeping herself prisoned in a blockade of household products.
Regret and embarrassment soon befell me as I took a lotus seat beside her, and realized that we were shoulder to shoulder.
My eyes cautiously slid sideways to see if there was any trace of discomfort from her. If there was, she wasn't showing it. In fact, she wasn't showing anything at all. All I could see was a blank, unreadable expression without a hint of interest.
-still, it's hard to believe that in that proximity, her face was undeniably pretty, and just by looking at her, I could already confirm, much to my dismay, that her skin is in indeed smooth.
Her own eyes slowly rolled to the side, mimicking the way I was stealing a look at her. I was forced to look away, otherwise she'll think I'm checking her out.
"Are you checking me out?" she asked without even flinching from such question.
"HELL NO!" I said. I could feel my face burn with humiliation.
Before I could further rant on how impossible for me to find interest in her, a customer found its way to our spot. Immediately, her face brightened with the subtlest energy to accommodate.
"How much for the can-opener?" a middle-aged woman asked, after scanning the showcase on the mat.
"600 yen."
"Hm, okay, thanks."
The lady turned around after smiling politely. I felt a sudden, unknown sting in my chest as I watched her walk away. I turned to the person beside me, and saw that her face has slightly dropped.
"Maybe I should lessen the prices."
"Do that, and you'd end up giving everything away for free. If she really needs the opener, she'll come back after checking the other stalls. Just wait."
I didn't know why I said that. Maybe it was the dim chance of a sale that was happening before us – looking at all the stuff, hardly anything would pose a fancy. Still, she clearly placed an effort to preparing them for showcase, and it was just wrong to disregard such effort.
My attempt to console was rewarded with a nod, and a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"You're name is Suzuna?" I asked, after realizing a missed introduction.
"And you're name is Aoi-chan."
Okay, so much for introduction – we practically introduced the other's name. Not that it mattered.
"Just- Aoi will do. Where did you get all these stuff?"
"Some from our neighbors, the others from school?"
"Others?"
"Confiscated things. Life this swiss knife." She reached towards an elongated, red item and pushed the button.
"Hey! Be careful!" the sharp edge sliced up and cut through her sleeve before I could stop her.
I was immediately in panic mode. The blade was thick, fortunately not rusty, but clearly sharp enough to wound. By instinct, I took hold of the almost severed arm, and found that her clothes did well to protect her skin.
"Ah, my sleeve." She said, not really stating any concern.
"Geez, you're just like your sister."
I was fingering the damage on her clothes when a university student passed by and caught sight of the utility in Suzuna's hand.
"Hey! How much for that swiss knife?"
The girl looked at him blankly, then at the item. Finally, she answered.
"It's eight hundr- "
"900 yen." I entered before she could finish. "900 yen, still negotiable."
She looked at me with the same poker face, but I could tell she wasn't expecting my interference.
"900 yen? That thing's second hand! 800 yen." The guy rebutted.
"875. Look, it's still sharp."
The ripped clothing served a purpose as I raised Suzuna's arm. It made our customer reconsider the value.
"Fine, 850 then."
Suzuna's face finally showed a clear sign of happiness. "One swiss knife: sold."
Subtle, a bit mediocre, but clear, and that worked well enough for both of us, as we exchanged knowing grins and concluded our first transaction.
"Everything has value. We just have to key in the right amount." I said, pertaining more on the value of her effort into setting up and prepping her things for sale.
And just like that, I was absorbed into her flimsy, little business. It didn't add confidence to the impossible, because clearly, there is no way we're selling all of these, but at least that drove a bit more resolve in her. I'm not much into business, but I know the value of effort.
"Hey look, it's the fag!"
My head snapped towards the source of such painfully familiar statement, and immediately, I felt my stomach turn as a gang of spiteful childhood figures made their way towards our spot.
They were my classmates during my early elementary days, and they are the reason why I started hating the world.
"How's it going, Aoi-chan? Still trying to look cute?"
"I heard you were caught making a girly dress again."
"Really, that's so gross! What kind of guy would have dress-making as a hobby."
"I know, right? It's like he hasn't changed since 2nd grade."
"I bet he even put make-up on, sneaking up into his mom's closet and all that."
Of all the people to see me in public, it had to be them. Of course, like hell I would care what they're saying. I'm tired of justifying myself to people. I'm tired of defending my preferences.
But despite all my efforts to shield my heart from things like this, I still hurt inside – it's not like I wanted to like cute things – I just do. Maybe if I have a choice, I'd prefer to like something else, something manlier and more acceptable by society.
My subconscious pushed all those thoughts deeper, while my body did its reflex of curling up in a ball. The good thing about this sort of things is that it never lasts forever. I just have to hold up for as long as I could.
Misaki would probably scold me for not standing up to these guys. I wouldn't mind- I do need a bit of scolding, especially with how proud and haughty I act in front of those who accept me, while I stay meek and helpless before those who attack me.
This is why I'm the center of my own world – every other person out there is just plain nasty.
"Would you like to buy a bottle of alcohol?"
Crap, I forgot about her!
She can't seriously be thinking about going against these jerks.
"Who the hell are you? And why in the world would I buy your stupid product?" the tallest one inquired.
"Probably a hobo looking for some loot." Another commented.
"She's probably selling some worn out and badly spoiled stuff."
"Crazy girl! Hahahaha!"
"No way I'm buying anything from you."
"Suzuna, seat down, don't mind these guys." I whispered, hoping she'd pay heed. I tugged at her pants in a beckon of her attention.
"Would you like to buy a bottle of alcohol?" she asked again, still emotionless and blank.
Okay, that's definitely going to annoy them.
She was holding the bottle with both hands and, if I was looking at her posture correctly, she seemed to be aiming the mouth on the group.
"Are you a retard or something? I said I'm not going to - AHHHHH!"
I looked up and saw a hideous looking something slithered wildly out of the bottle Suzuna was holding. I couldn't even describe how horrible it looked – something stuck between a snake, and a lizard, and put in some horns and a very nasty blend of putrid green for a color, and you'll have something worth screaming about, especially if it's coming out of a harmless bottle of alcohol.
It was clearly a toy, or a gear intended for a prank, and damn did she pull this one real good.
"Get that thing away from me!"
He almost begged in that squeaking voice, but Suzuna just inched the wriggling, thing closer, squeezing the bottle tither to add more pressure and thus add more life on her hideous weapon.
"What the hell is that?!"
"Holy shiii- aghh"
Those who were too shocked to be able to make a rational response stumbled on a bunch of marbles 'miraculously' scattered on the ground behind them, disabling what little sense of balance they have.
"The hell is going on!"
As the four junior high students scrambled to their feet- stumbling and falling on top of each other, the spectators around us laughed at the comic scene. I for one found the expression on their faces hilarious, and chuckled at their retreating, cursing forms. Suzuna was still holding the bottle and was looking at the running boys without even the tiniest hint of interest or humor. I, in turn was looking up at her, thankful, amazed, and a bit scared now knowing that she is actually full of surprises.
I can't let the poker face fool me anymore.
"Thanks." I whispered, purposely saying it soft enough not to be heard.
"Bullies. They're everywhere. If only they can also be paying customers." She sat, sighed, and turned thoughtful at the idea.
While she retracted the dreadful arsenal back to its deceptively harmless form, I took the chance to look at her again, this time, I admitted, I was clearly checking her out, though not in a sneaky, perverted way.
I found the sparkle in her bored eyes to be unusually gem-like, as if there was something glistening there, something not normally seen in everyday people. It was concealed under a yellow coating of mysterious amber – secretive, and incredibly beautiful.
"Are you-?"
"No, I am not checking you out." I answered, even before she could finish the question. This time, though, I had no defensive mechanism functioning, just a blatant rejection, and a subtle admittance to myself that she, like her sister, is undeniably cute, although her own version of cuteness is hidden behind numerous deviations, specifically those found in her eyes.
A very small patch of pink found its way on each of her cheeks, and it made me snicker. That maybe a button worth pressing.
You may have a lot of tricks up your sleeve, girl, but I know weakness when I see one.
Speaking of sleeve –
"Have you got a needle, or anything thin and pointy?" I asked, looking all around me for some useful stuff.
"I have a safety pin."
"That'll do, give me."
"200 yen."
"Ugh, for crying out loud! I'll fix your sleeve. Just give me the pin."
"But you said everything has value." She declared blankly, holding the bundle of safety pins away from my reach as if I would snag it from her.
"It's not always monetary value. You give me the pin, I'll fix your shirt, and we'll call it square. Regular transaction."
Her head tilted slightly to the side, still showing no sign of comprehension. That, or she's an expert at utilizing such a clueless countenance.
Those eyes of hers were drilling into mine again in such a critical fashion. I decided there was no point being susceptible to it, or to whatever schemes being formulated in her head while she looks at me, so I simply stared back.
After a few minutes she finally chose to cooperate, and handed the bundle over.
I pulled a pin, plucked three strands of my hair to form a thread, and started doing what I do best. The cheap fabric felt worn out of years, most probably a handmedown type of clothing.
Even without looking, I could tell she was staring at me again, or at least on what I was doing.
I took a quick glance and saw she really was looking at me that is. My cheeks suddenly felt warm.
"If you're going to ask whether what they said back there is true or not, then the answer is yes, I do make dresses."
"Mm." she hummed an acknowledgement, and that was it. I felt a vein snap at the back of my neck with such poor reaction. I was actually hoping for more than that.
Surely, she's keeping something in her mind she didn't want me to hear – isn't she?
"And by dress, I meant extravagant and colorful dresses that only girls wear."
"I see."
Another vein snapped. I almost punctured myself after that second disinterested reply.
"And after that, I'll put on the dress, take pictures from different angles and post them on the web."
"Good for you, then."
"Oh come on! You're supposed to freak out a little!" I said loudly, letting go of her.
She simply gave another wordless stare and applied a clear question mark on that ridiculously blank face.
"Why?"
"Why?" I returned the question, completely disbelieving that someone other Misaki and Usui could make such unconcerned reactions. I get it – stupid must also run in the family. "Because – because it's weird, and gross, and not normal."
"Hm, define normal." She demanded gently.
"Well, um, normal would be something acceptable to society, something people would find easier to accept."
"So it's relative." She said. It was my turn to be confused.
"What?"
"It's relative. If it's normal because of how others see, then it's relative to the judgment of others. If it is, it will always be subject to change, and you'd always have to re-quantify the amount you put in its value. That said, normal doesn't have any real value, because you cannot key in a definitive amount to quantify it."
"…huh?"
Did I say stupid? I meant crazy – what the hell is she blabbering about.
"Simply put," she continued, probably smelling my burnt brain cells, "If it's normal, it would hardly have any value."
I reconsidered the idea, and gave her a sly grin. This is probably her version of an attempt to console.
"What are you saying?" I asked.
"Make dress, wear it, look pretty in it – if it's you, then do it. The world will change, and people too. We can't always expect people to accept us. And if you ask me, we don't need them too. It's a bit cliché, but if being a freak means being who you are, then we should just all be freaks."
Her face brightened for the second time that day, and I had this gut feeling I was witnessing a very rare occurrence in the history of mankind – Suzuna was actually smiling. It's not like I know her or anything, but something tells me this doesn't normally happen.
But smile she did, as she gazed at the mended part of her shirt, running her fingers on the clear, navy blue stitches.
"Don't tug at it too much. It's just a temporary fix." I took hold of her hand and re-examined my work. She doesn't seem to be as brutish as her sister, so this should hold out for a couple of days, or at least until she puts it in the laundry.
"Maybe you can make a permanent one for me." she said, hesitation playing in her voice a bit.
"Not a chance."
It was just a default reply. I don't always mean it. I say it when someone is asking me for a favor and I was being given a chance to prove myself to others.
"You're skilled. Why don't you sell your work?"
"I'm not interested in making doe. And, in my opinion, neither should you."
Her thin, solemn lips spoke as I let her go, crocked lines having secured the chasm of her shirt.
"I – I want to buy something."
"Is that so?"
"One-chan told me I'm always looking after our family's well-being. She said I need to do something for myself for a change. She said – I can't always put her and mom in the center of my life."
I wish someone could tell me that.
"That's why – I want to buy something for myself."
There was more power in her words than what volume of her voice or the expression of her face projected.
"I see. So all of this is for yourself?"
"No, I mean yes, I mean – I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? You just said you want to buy something, right?" my tone got sharper as my patience got thinner.
"I do, but I have to help in the household too. I have to get some old catalogues and cut promotional stubs, and coupons, I have to win that basket of vegetables in the market contest, or at least that 10 kilos of rice for a consolation prize, I have to save every penny to buy medicine just in case mom gets sick, or if one-chan gets fired for some reason, and I have to-"
"Stop." I said, holding up a palm on her. "Let me ask you something: what was the last thing you did for yourself?"
She cocked her head at me again – I was beginning to find that annoying… mainly because i was starting to think it was cute how she did it – whatever.
"I joined a contest."
My forehead met with my palm in defeat and frustration. "Ugh, okay, let's settle with that. What kind of contest?"
"A contest to win a prize."
I felt another vein burst. Should I really keep asking, or should I just strangle her, right here, right now.
"What kind of prize?" I managed to ask patiently.
"All sorts of prizes."
"BE MORE SPECIFIC!"
Several people turned to our direction after that rather loud command. I cleared my throat and straightened my posture.
"Ahem, sorry… So, did you win?"
"Of course I did." She said as if she was stating a fact.
"Great. What did you won?"
"All sorts of prizes."
"YOU SAID THAT ALREADY! Kami-sama -" I could real feel my head aching at this point, and the sad truth is I don't even know why I'm bothering with this girl, "Look, can you just tell me what you go out of the contest?"
She turned her head towards the sky and placed a finger on her chin in some sort of memory juggle. She certainly took her time, but after a while, she finally returned to me with an answer.
"I got eight boxes of soy-sauce, and - some other stuffs."
What the hell kind of a prize is that?
"Ooookay – other than soy-sauce, what were those other stuffs?"
I was under the impression that she couldn't remember them, so she just generalized. But then she gave me her answer.
"Towels, tissue papers, French seasoning, kitchen knives, a spatula, a grinder, a blender, a can opener, 3 frying pans, 3 bottles of cooking oil, a bag of jumping beans, a pair of straw dolls, a dozen ball of yarn, a packet of matches, 8 sets of spoons and forks, a kilo of apples, a kilo of peaches, 9 grams of peanut, a bushel of grapes, 3 boxes of pencils, a notebook, a directory with the 1968 listing, 250gm of coffee, 2 bottles of antiseptic, and can of hairspray."
"…"
It was my turn to stare at her without a clear emotion on my face. I couldn't even remember in which part my sanity froze.
"Wow." I simply said, failing to process my real sentiments. It wasn't actually awe, it was more like 'wow, the world is going nuts.'
"In the end, you didn't really win anything, did you?"
"What do you mean? Those were a lot." She said, furrowing her eyebrows – and no, that isn't enough to be considered as a real facial expression.
"I'd say, but none of that is actually for you. I mean, those were just random stuff people give away because no one else wanted to get them. What your sister is trying to say is: you need to have something that you can call your own, something you worked hard for, something that isn't necessarily useful."
"If it's not useful, then what's the point of having it?"
I couldn't help but feel sorry for her – not out of real pity, nor was I looking down at her at this point, but she's missing out a lot in life.
"You'll have it, because it's meaningful."
"Meaningful?" she repeated.
My lips involuntarily curved up into a grin I normally don't show to people, but the conversation was making me aware of many things. I opened up my hands and gazed at the badly scared fingers. The marks were as a pale as my skin so it was hardly noticeable, but they were clearly there, especially if you have a feel of my palm - something Suzuna suddenly did and, much to my surprise, something I allowed her to do.
"Your hands." She said, almost with a gasp, almost hinting concern. I assume 'almost' is the closest she can get to expressing herself.
At first, she was simply tracing her finger on my palm as if doodling with invisible ink. Then, as if it was a specimen rarely seen, she pulled both my hands closer to her.
"It's not easy making dresses, but I love making them. They're hardly of any use, but they hold great meaning for me, because they remind me that even though people don't accept me for who I am, I can still be true to myself."
Her own hand was warm, and soft, and gentle in its investigative touch. She rubbed a thumb over an ugly scar brought by a clumsy handling of a blade when I was four.
"Listen, whatever it is you want to buy, you buy it. Saving money for what you want isn't exactly being selfish. Besides, if I heard correctly, your mom's health has been improving a great deal, and Misaki is gaining good scholarship points to a university, which should take care of her educational worries."
Our eyes got linked into a silent stare. She's really good at looking at people, to the point where it didn't seem bothersome anymore to return her manner of looking.
"Alright." She said, giving me another warm smile.
The sun was starting to set. People around us were beginning to conclude their businesses, and knowing my aunt she would probably be asking dad where I am. I gently pulled my hand away from her hold and stood up.
"Well, I better get going."
"Mm." she nodded, watching me dust off and straighten my pants.
It was disheartening to know she sold only one item today. She didn't seem affected by it though. By the looks of it, this whole flea market thing is probably a farce to play along with what Misaki is asking her to do.
"How much for the comb?"
The signature tilt of her head questioned my sales-inquiry.
"How much for the comb? I'm going to buy it."
"I thought you don't want any of my stupid stuff." She said with a mild tease in her soft tone.
"Yeah, well, after seeing that bottle of alcohol spew out a creature from another dimension, maybe some of your stupid stuff can come in handy."
She picked the item from its spot, looked up at me, long and hopeful, and then handed me the plastic comb with the following qualifications.
"I'll give it to you. Just come here tomorrow."
That was a surprise.
"Don't be an idiot. You can't afford to give away you're things at the rate your selling."
"I'm not giving it away. I'm selling it, but not with a monetary value."
I scratched my head, thinking the entire thing was a bit ridiculous. I was trying to help her out, but she's being too sentimental. Well, I guess meeting a new friend has its worth, and comb for a price of a company isn't such a bad deal.
"Very well." I said, taking the comb from her hand.
"One comb: sold." She triumphantly said, though still not without apparent glee that I suspect was supposed to come with it.
I guess I would have to satisfy myself with this item, along with a smile which I think is as rare and true as it is beautiful.
"I – I'll bring my sewing kit tomorrow. Let's put a permanent fix on that horrible shirt you're wearing."
"Okay."
It was already dark when I got home.
The fabric lying untouched on the long table in my room reminded me of how tiring the entire day had been – tiring, and pointless. I was supposed to find inspiration for my new dress, a design to blow everyone way, but instead I ended up with nothing than a drained out brain.
Okay, maybe not completely pointless, since I did manage to make a friend, if you'd actually call her that. And for some reason, I was actually looking forward to tomorrow.
I threw my legs up and made a quick leap towards the waiting fabric, wondering if the encounters of the day would bring me closer to a design.
I held the hem of the primer with two fingers, feeling the quality softness and glazy texture of it, and closed my eyes in search of an idea that could give form to it.
My sight was in darkness, but my mind saw clear – I saw yellow, gold, bright amber, sunlit shade of glistening color, seemingly exuberant, yet hiding a mystery behind it's brightness. The form must then be simple, yet well made. It shouldn't have to scream to stand out, but just whisper a soft tune of unadulterated beauty. It will be slim-fit, to coat the body under a perfect figure – no ruffles, no flowers, maybe a slit on the side to expose the smooth skin of her long legs. A bit daring, yes, but also suggestive of secrets begging to be discovered.
- secrets under a deviation of an unreadable face, reflected behind a pair of glimmering, curious orbs –
My eyes shot open just when I finally decided what my new dress was going to look like. I looked down and saw in my hand not the fabric which I thought I was holding, but a plastic comb.
My heart was racing wildly, my forehead slightly drenched with sweat. I felt so excited, so thrilled, my mind was swimming under a vision of cloth and thread. This is the inspiration I was looking for.
The only problem is – it's supposed to be MY dress, but why did I see HER in it?
prologue ends... too long? sorry, but it's been a while since I saw a rather cute couple that aren't directly paired up, but by theme, are certainly perfect for each other.
please review and tell me what you think. I'm going to try and post the shorties on a regular basis. it's going to be an easy read, so look forward to it!
thanks for reading