The second I usher my Kjelle into Victoria's Secret, Laurent trailing nervously behind, a bubbly young woman with pink hair approaches us, asking, "Welcome to Victoria's Secret! Is there anything I can help you with today?"
Laurent freezes in his tracks as Kjelle answers, "We're just looking around, thank you." She then pulls on my arm and takes me away from the lady, whose face goes from a wide grin to a smaller smile, tinged with confusion.
Kjelle pulls me to the back of the spacious store, where I finally ask in hushed tones, "What was that for?"
Kjelle crosses her arms and looks at the myriad of multi-colored bras. She focuses on a mannequin wearing a red and pink polka dot bra and panty set. "I didn't want her to hover." Laurent hovers, his reddish-brown eyes wide at everything in the store. This is probably a wet dream come true.
"...She wasn't though."
Kjelle shakes her head, her short black hair partially covering her face. "I don't know. What's going on with me…?" I open my mouth to say something, but Kjelle cuts me off with, "Let's try that on." She points at the mannequin she was staring at.
I shrug. "Sure." We rummage around for the right sizes with surprising success. Kjelle has bigger boobs than me, so it's hard to find bras in her size with cute designs. We then wander the store, Kjelle passing a hand over soft nightgowns, me blindly taking more bras and shifts. With our things in tow, we head over to the fitting room. Laurent follows us, asking about how measurements work. Kjelle kindly tells him and he blushes as he absorbs the knowledge. He waits outside while we walk into the fitting room. "He's like our bodyguard," I murmur. I've noticed the curious stares the other shoppers have given him, but they probably think he's dating one of us. Ugh, what if they thought he was my little brother that I had to drag around?
We're greeted by a somber woman with cotton candy blue hair. She looks like she's trying to blend into the dark pink walls. She gives us a once-over, making me feel cold. I mean, the mall is already cold, but when she looked at me with such a blank, blasé stare, it was like I was being gouged out by an ice-cold hand. I rub my arms, albeit not too well, with all the clothes I'm juggling. She silently takes account of what we're holding and quietly says, "We currently have one room available right now. Would you like to wait for two adjacent ones, or would one of you like to go in first?" Her voice is low and clipped, like she was taking our coffee order.
Kjelle pipes up with her velvet tones to answer, "I think we can share one. Is that okay?"
The woman purses her lips, but nods. "Sure. The room is big enough for both of you. Follow me." She leads us to a room labeled, "Eiffel Tower." Kjelle and I walk inside the large fitting room with full-length mirrors on all three walls. Various hooks and two benches are scattered around the room, reminding me of Kjelle's backyard porch. I don't know why. It just feels right. I like her porch, 'cause there's a swinging bench and I love the feel of the sun on my face, smelling Kjelle's unique scent, drinking English Breakfast tea. This room makes me feel like I can recreate all of that here.
We put the merchandise on one bench, as well as my purse. Kjelle unceremoniously takes off her tank top. My heart beats faster, just like before. I stammer some nonsense and turn away. Okay Severa. Don't be weird. You've done this before. Why are you weird? It's just Kjelle. And okay, yeah maybe seeing more of her tan skin is making you thinking about more...scandalous things. That last thought then makes me think about the countless times I've seen Kjelle in stages of nakedness, like when she just gets out of the shower in a way-too-small towel, or when it's actually too hot for Kjelle and she walks around wearing nothing but underwear. They're seemingly nondescript, but it says ridiculous stuff on her butt, like "Fun in the Sun," or "Cool for the Summer," or even "Stay Alive." Dammit. Now I'm just thinking about her firm butt. I smack my cheeks with both hands. "What are you doing?" Kjelle questions, concern in her voice. I've realized that I'm just smacking myself in the farthest corner of the room.
I turn around to face her, my skin red. And not just from trying to wake myself up. "Uhhh, nothing!" It sounds incredibly fake, and my best friend almost buys it.
Her mouth is in a thin line when she says, "O...kay. Well, take off your clothes and let's get this over with." I know Kjelle is saying this like we're just comparing what color rug to buy for our future apartment, but I can't get my head out of the gutter. So I take off my flower-patterned blue halter top. I can't even look at her as we both change into the red-and-pink bras. "So?" Kjelle asks from behind.
I shyly turn to face her, my shoulders hunched over, arms crossed. "Ta-da…?"
Kjelle frowns. "Why are you acting so weird, Severa? Here, let me help." She steps in close, her arms reaching out for my hands covering my shoulders. I resist the urge to lean away and focus on the little black hairs on Kjelle's tan arms. I wonder how it'd feel if I just fell into them…? Not realizing how bad I've wanted that, I slowly slump into Kjelle's arms. Kjelle at this point already took one of my hands away, so my other arm is stuck between us as I smush my face into her neck. My best friend holds me up by the waist with her strong arms. I let out a deep sigh. "S-Se...vera?" she inquires quietly.
I inhale her Cucumber Melon scent, almost snuggling into her. "Please don't let go. You're so warm…"
"But...the bras…" Kjelle half protests, her mouth a breath away from my ear. It sends shivers down my spine, relishing in all of her.
Like a dumbass, I give a small, hesitant kiss on her neck. Kjelle takes in a sharp breath, but otherwise doesn't do anything. Feeling a little bolder, I bite her neck with more purpose. Kjelle flinches a little, but stays still. "I'm marking you," I whisper, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes for a brief moment. Her face is a bright red, but her composure doesn't change.
Kjelle's eyes cloud over. I think she's about to pull away entirely and walk out of the dressing room, but then she leans in to bite my neck, murmuring, "Okay. I'm marking you too. Now no one can pull us apart."
"Good," I reply, my skin on fire. That's all I can say? Really? I'm about to say something else, but Kjelle steps away from our embrace, clearing her throat. I see the beginnings of a hickey blooming on her smooth neck. My heart leaps in joy, loving that I'm the one who did that, and not some fuckboy like Laurent. Okay fine, he's not a fuckboy. But I'm still glad he'll never be able to do that.
Kjelle looks away from me, mumbling something about how good I look in the bra. I mumble something similar in return. We silently change out of the garment and move on to the next items we brought, refusing to meet the other's eye.
Sumia's pulling on my arm as we walk to Carvel, holding hands. Well, I'm walking and she's skipping, which is why she's tugging on my arm. I want to skip, but I feel like it's a Sumia-only action. If I skipped, I won't look like I'm enjoying life. I only seem to enjoy life with Sumia. "Come on Delia!" Sumia squeals.
I snort, half-heartedly trying to rein her in. I can't bring myself to seriously do it. "The store isn't running away," I chide. I pick up my pace nevertheless. Still not skipping though.
We make it to Carvel, where we're greeted by: a teen couple bickering about the girl liking some other guy's Instagram picture; a group of four kids and two moms, all wearing a magenta sweatshirt with the words "Valm Preparatory School Chess Team," sitting around two tables, eating their ice creams and talking about their match in quiet tones; and two employees lounging behind the counter. All is silent, making the couple's bickering sound a lot louder than it really is. Sumia leads me to the counter, where she finally gives me the reins to order. We always order the same thing at any ice cream place: Coffee, and Butter Pecan. This time, though, Sumia mutters in my ear, "Surprise us this time, okay?"
I blush, my heart swelling. Sumia clings to my arm as I stroll up to the first employee, who's a tall young man with orange hair and a chiseled face. My heart would've fluttered, but I already have Sumia pressed close to me. The man's light brown eyes glisten with mischief as he eyes us before greeting, "Welcome to Carvel. How may I help you today?" His voice is deep and lively, perfect for a jazz band. I confidently order a Chocolate Praline Pecan Carvelanche. The man gives us a sweet smile as he happily takes the order. He glides around behind the counter, scooping three scoops of the ice cream, ice, and some milk, mixing them together in a blender. Sumia watches in delight as I rummage around for my pink wallet.
"That's a fun choice," Sumia stage-whispers, making the Carvel employee chuckle while he blends. When he's done, he pours the thick, creamy mixture into a medium-sized cup. He hands it to us and rings us up for $7.67. I hand him a ten-dollar bill and he gives me my change with a bright smile. He could be in a dental advertisement. I smile back and walk away with the Carvelanche in hand, Sumia grabbing two spoons. We settle into an empty table in the back, farthest from the door. The couple's still arguing, but they've moved on to the value of Avatar. The fourth one came out two years ago, but they seem quite heated about it, as if it was opening weekend. Sumia takes the chair opposite me, but the way she impatiently taps on the table makes it obvious that she'd rather be snuggling up to me. To be honest, I'd want nothing more, but I'm still unsure on where we are. I mean, she can't just be so...flippant about my confession. But I can't even begin to tell you how much I've craved this sort of intimacy…
"What do you imagine that guy thinks of us?" Sumia questions conspiratorially, nodding at the employee who's assisted us. He's on his phone now, but he periodically looks up to make sure all the customers are satisfied. His co-worker is napping on another chair, snoring quietly.
I shrug, taking a bite out of the Carvelanche. The chocolatey, nutty treat goes down my throat smoothly. Hm. Cool for the summer. "That I'm a homewrecker."
Sumia's eyes widen and she chastises, "No! You're not. Why do you say that?" I give a pointed look at her left ring finger, her diamond wedding ring a blatant reminder of what I'll never have. My best friend scoffs, saying, "This," she takes off the ring, to my horror, "doesn't matter. At least," she averts her gray eyes, "not right now."
I sigh, barely restraining the urge to roll my eyes. "Mia, just because I…" I glance around the shop, making sure no one's eyes are on us, "love you, doesn't mean that your feelings for Chrom are invalid."
Sumia pouts. "Yeah, but...I feel like I've always loved you. Like that. So why...should I stop myself?" She fidgets with the sparkly gem.
I glare at her, offended that she's so willing to give up—even if she never actually goes through with it—the one thing I've always wanted. I've only ever wanted Chrom to look at me, to love me, and Sumia took his affection so effortlessly. I'm craving a stable family with three kids and not have any of them hate me for driving away their father like Severa does. I want to be seen as more, and my damn best friend is carelessly throwing it all away.
I slam my hand on the silver table and yell, "You're just so stupid! You have it all, and you don't even think about anyone else but yourself!"
Sumia gasps and everyone in the shop freezes and stares at me.
