Prompt: In a different clothing style


"It's a celebration, Daiba, you're supposed to have fun," Kei reminded him with an easy smile. "And you're going to wrinkle your clothes sitting like that."

She said that like he cared, but when it was her saying it, well, he guessed he did. Pulling his leg from across the chair's back, he turned himself around to sit forward and smoothed down the creases in his new pants. "Doesn't really matter," he muttered. "Don't look good in them."

As he turned, she moved to stand at his side, her hands on her hips to let him know she was right no matter what he said. "Of course you do," she insisted. "I wouldn't let you go out in a suit that didn't look good." Once again, she reached out to brush his bangs from where they rebelliously hung in front of his eyes, curling them behind his ear. He had too nice of eyes to hide them.

His gaze flicked continuously over the outfit she'd picked out for herself, glancing quickly from the dress to his lap in an attempt to keep it from being too obvious. She just looked so beautiful. It wasn't fair. He was sure everyone there was thinking it, and he just looked stiff and uncomfortable.

Kei wasn't concerned with what all of them were thinking. She'd bought the blue dress for herself only because Daiba had mentioned how he thought she looked good in blue. Of course, then he'd run off with a beet-red face. She'd also made sure to get a dress that cut up the side of her leg just to see if she could get him to blush again. It was too cute to resist.

He really did look adorable in the suit, a soft cream color like icing. She could have gotten him a usual black tux, but he looked best in light colors, and he looked best when he stood out just for her, different from everyone else.

The string instruments plucked the beginnings of another light piece, champagne glasses ringing in time with the new song as they settled against tables. This was their celebration, so they deserved to have fun. And Kei would ensure Daiba would enjoy himself, even if it took a little work on her part.

She offered him her hand, watching his eyes widen as though she'd made some sort of mistake. "May I have this dance?" she hummed.

He was dumbfounded. His body seemed glued to the chair. "Why?"

A curious smile eased onto the edges of her lips, and she grabbed his arm to hook with hers. "Because I won't dance with anyone but the best man in the room."