I don't own FMA
Theme 8 - Kiss
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Both her father and Allen had been sending expectant glances at her all day—through the two hours of choosing the "perfect" fabric and color for the table cloths during the reception, which still ended in indecision, an hour and a half of flipping through illustrations of hair styles, for all of them sans Alex, and now as they toured the grand hall of Rowling's Inn too see if it was up to par for the reception.
Olivier groaned as her mother pulled out the three sample pieces of fabric they'd gotten earlier and compared them to the golden butter-cream paint on the walls. By the clucking sound her that came from her mother's mouth and the way she shoved the fabrics back in her handbag this certainly wasn't going to be the place they'd decide on.
She was starting to remember what it felt like to shop with her mother—the pressure that built up in the back of her head, sounds mashing together, the film of fog dulling her surroundings, and the weight of her eyelids, fighting to stay closed each time she blinked.
She barely kept her footing when her father nudged her. "When are you going to go?" he whispered.
She slowly turned her head in his direction, her vision slightly obscured by hair and the film of fog. "What was that?" she asked, her senses clearing as they walked back out to the streets.
"When are you going to go to the boutique?" he asked, his whisper a bit louder than the first one.
"I need-did they just? Again?" Olivier asked, her voice a bit louder than her father's whisper.
"Pardon," her father replied, utterly confused.
"They kissed. Out in public!" Olivier exclaimed, scrunching her face up in disgust. There was one thing that disgusted her more than her first sip of coffee at Briggs, and that was public displays of affection that surpassed a quick hug or holding hands. Not only had Arm-e leaned over once to kiss him, but twice.
"Really, your private life should stay private! What are you two going to be doing next, groping each other in public," Olivier fumed.
"Why, I never!" her mother cried, holding a hand over chest, as if she'd just had a heart attack.
"But, Livi, they're in love!" Alex exclaimed, the emotion in his eyes causing them to sparkle.
"I'm going to leave, before I get sick," Oliver announced, making her exit by walking between the blushing couple.
"Just don't stay out too late, darling," her father called, waving enthusiastically to her back.
The crowd on the sidewalk quickly parted for Olivier as she walked by grumbling to herself about couples using love to excuse their inappropriate acts in such public places.
By the time she had gotten to the dress shop she had doled out enough glares to passers-by to alleviate a fraction of her frustration. She held her head high as she entered the boutique of certain doom.
The seamstress quickly recognized her name, and took her to the back, where sure enough a dress nearly the color of her uniform was waiting to be fitted. She silently cursed her mother for her unfailing hope that she would wear a dress.
Exactly what she wanted to do during her vacation—sport a dress, and while doing so leave herself in the hands of a stranger with a mouthful of needles.
After a few minutes of pinning fabric here and there, the woman looked up at her. "Is something wrong, hun'? Just let me know, I can fix anything you don't like," she volunteered, her voice a bit of a mumble through her gritted teeth.
"It's not the dress. Honestly, it's partly the dress, but I dislike all dresses," Oliver brushed her off.
"Well then, what's bothering you?" she asked, pulling another pin from between her teeth.
Olivier gave her a rather put off look and crossed her arms.
"Now, don't go moving on me like that, I don't want to stick you. I can't promise you I can fix your problem if it doesn't concern the dress, but I can listen, and trust a woman twice your age, just telling someone about it can help," she insisted, pins moving up and down ever so slightly with each syllable that passed between her clenched teeth.
Olivier considered the offer, and decided to tell the woman, at least they could relate on one level—working with sharp pointy objects day in and day out.
The woman listened to her quick synopsis of the event and her outlook about the public display of affection while diligently going about her work of noting the miniscule adjustments that would make the difference between a stunning and ordinary gown. She looked up at the blonde before her and smiled, showing the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. "It's not so unusual to see that nowadays as it was when I was growing up," she began, taking the remaining pins out of their place inbetween her teeth. Her voice came across more clearly as she continued, "One day it'll change for you, just you wait. Now, go on, I know you're itching to get out of that dress."
Olivier would have snorted at the woman's comment about her point of view changing, but she forgot about it when she was told she could change out of the dress mocking her for the deal she'd made.
Back in her pantsuit, with her dearest friend at her side, she left the shop and made her way home hoping her eyes wouldn't be victim to anymore displays of saliva exchanges that the seamstress had told her were becoming more common to see in the open these days.
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A.N.-Word Count: 955, and to think I was going to stop at 447. I feel so evil for making her wear a dress, and I think I'm running out of hiding places. Just so you know, her regular outfit while in Central is a pantsuit. Erm...no offense to kisses, though some are a bit too much in public, not that kisses between Arm-e and Allen were anything more than a sweet chaste gesture. Thanks for reading!
Thank you for reviewing: Whxhfdl14, Griselda Banks, Bar-Ohki, Yun-Min, Crystal Mage, Tammertime, YouFavouitePlushie, Dailenna, Legendary Chimera, InuJoey. The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, and Kookith.
