shuhaige
62
If it was possible to drown in dresses, I would’ve been dead five minutes ago. Every five seconds Fiona threw a new one at me, adding onto the mound that had been past my head about a half an hour ago. It was like her closet was endless! How did she fit so many dresses in it in the first place? Magic?
“Oh! Em! Try on that last one I threw you!”
Withholding a groan, I managed to force all of the dresses off of me so I could stand up. The bright light caused me to squint for a moment, but my eyes swiftly adjusted and I picked a random dress off the floor. Maybe Fiona wouldn’t notice I didn’t know what dress was the last one she’d thrown out. The dress I picked up was white, almost like a wedding gown. Grimacing, I tossed it to the side, snatching up another one just as Fiona popped her head out of her closet.
“Is it on?”
“I’m not a quick change artist.”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.
“Do you need help?”
I shook my head, glancing at the dress in my hands. This one wasn’t as bad as the last. It was a deep green… but really short. “I don’t want to try it on, actually.”
She pouted. “Why? That’s one of my favorites.”
“It, er, doesn’t match my eyes?” I asked, more than stated.
For a moment she studied my face, squinting at me. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed finally. “Let’s find something else.”
“But I’m hungry-”
“Well you’ll just have to stop being so picky if you want something to eat,” she retorted, disappearing into her closet in the blink of an eye. “You can’t wear rags to the ball, Emily.”
Mimicking her under my breath, I bent down and seized an armful of dresses from the floor and threw them onto the bed. In my excitement of being able to go the ball, I’d forgotten about the part about wearing a dress. This whole trying-stuff-on bit got boring quickly. But I really did need something formal to wear.
“How about black and yellow?” Fiona called.
“No way.”
“Light green?”
“Nah.”
“Short and black?”
“No.”
“Plain yellow?”
“No, Fiona.”
My eyes skimmed over the mountain of dresses on the floor, skipping over every color that I either didn’t like, or didn’t look good in. Blue was the color I wanted. Fiona seemed to have a lack of blue gowns though- probably because it didn’t match her features too well.
” God, Emily! Can’t you just try on some?” Fiona demanded, appearing in front of me again.
My heart nearly failed. Breathing deeply, I put a hand to my chest. “Fiona, don’t just appear in front of me like that.”
“Try some on!”
“Fine, fine!” I muttered, bending down to grab a random dress.
“No, this one,” she insisted, thrusting an extremely poofy, green dress into my chest. “I think it’ll look good on you!”
I stared at her flatly. “Absolutely not.”
“Just try it on!” she urged.
“Okay, but go back in the closet,” I ordered, reluctantly taking the dress from her. “Keep looking.”
.
.
She grinned evilly. “Aw, are you self-conscious?”
Biting my tongue to keep from retorting, I just calmly nodded my head. It was partially true. Anyone would feel self-conscious in front of her… but her dresses fit me fine, so I couldn’t look too awful in them.
“Okay, you have five minutes to change!”
As soon as vanished from sight, I started undressing myself. The first to go were my jeans, which were easy to slip out of. My shirt was a little more difficult, since it was one of those annoying half-shirt, half-cardigan things. After a full minute fight, I managed to get it over my head. Cold settled in as I stood in the room in my underwear, trying to figure out what the best way to get it over my head would be. It looked like stepping in would work, but the bodice seemed rather tight…
“I’m coming in,” a voice announced in a gruff voice.
My eyes widened in horror. “W-wait!”
Too late. Vincent already had the door open before my request could be heard. He gazed at me for a few moments before giving once-over. A small smirk appeared on his face. “Fiona,” he started, his eyes never leaving me, “Sebastian is looking for you.”
“He is?” she responded, stumbling out of her closet. “What for?”
“Do I look like him to you?”
She shook her head. “If you did, you’d be much more handsome.”
“Funny,” he snapped at her.
Giggling, she skipped by him and to the door. “I guess I’ll be right back… Emily, you should probably put some clothing on. Don’t want anyone thinking the wrong thing we you two in here alone, do you?”
Thanks to her words, the blush I’d been managing to control so perfectly spilled onto my cheeks. “W-whatever! Vincent, get out!”
“I’ve already seen it, so what’s it matter?” he questioned casually, pulling the chair from Fiona’s desk toward me and turning it around backwards before sitting on it. “You’re trying to figure out a dress to wear?”
“Obviously,” I told him, struggling to pull the poofy monster on. “There’s none I really like.”
He frowned. “Well don’t bother trying that one. It won’t look good on you.”
I gave him a sarcastic look. “Gee, thanks. Aren’t you the best boyfriend ever?” The word felt foreign on my tongue. Boyfriend… It was weird addressing him as so. Almost unreal.
“Yes,” he said confidently, another smirk gracing his lips.
“Jerk,” I mumbled, dropping the dress. Not that I was going to admit it to him, but I already knew it wouldn’t look good. However, I didn’t want to stand around half-naked with him in the room, so I immediately pulled another off the floor and threw it over my head. This time it was a short maroon one.
Vincent examined me thoughtfully, all expression dissolving from his face. “No,” he finally decided. “It clashes with your eyes.”
Shaking my head, I kicked a few of the dresses on the floor aside, looking for one that would be suitable. “Fiona doesn’t have much that works.”
“I know one,” he suddenly recalled, standing up from his spot. “I’ll find it. I think it’ll be good.”
“Good?”
He grinned wickedly. “We can’t describe you as perfect. You’re just a mere mortal.”
“Okay, Edward,” I scoffed, crossing my arms and watching as he strode over to the closet. “If I can recall correctly, you told me yourself not all vampires looked good! And you’re far from perfect yourself!”
.
.
His snickers could be heard from the depths of Fiona’s never-ending wardrobe. Rubbing my eyes wearily, I collapsed onto Fiona’s bed, ready to fall asleep. If the ball was tomorrow night, why did I have to choose a dress right now? It’d been a long day… Joel had thought it would be funny to steal some of my clothing, so I’d spent at least five hours searching for him through the monstrous estate. Sebastian had finally ran into me at one point just to tell me Joel had gone out with his Tiffany friend again. He still wasn’t back, so I still didn’t have my clothing.
“Here.”
I shot up at the sound of Vincent’s voice. In his hands was a shockingly beautiful dress. “Um, wow,” I said dumbly, staring at it. Where had he managed to find that? Why hadn’t Fiona pulled that out in the first place?
“I think it’ll suit you,” he told me sincerely.
I was in the same mind. Instead of being off the shoulder or strapless like all of the other dresses, it was halter-top styled with a sapphire ribbon. The top started off white before slowly beginning to change to blue and finally landing in the same sapphire color as the halter ribbon. What was even more striking, was that the sapphire was the same shade as Vincent’s eyes were. To top things off, although it was short, it was long enough to not seem slutty.
“Hey, stupid, are you going to stop gawking and try it on, or what?”
“I’m going to try it on!” I said excitedly, not even minding his name-calling. “Give it to me! Give it to me!”
He smiled naughtily. “I’ve never met someone who wants it so much.”
“Vincent!”
“I’m kidding,” he laughed, handing the dress to me. “Go on. Try it on to your heart’s desire,” he added, rolling his eyes.
Taking it from him, I narrowed my eyes. “Turn around and don’t look.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Scoffing, he turned his back on me. “Prude.”
“Pervert,” I shot back, easily sliding out of the maroon dress. “It’s creepy when people stare, you know. Not romantic at all.”
“You know romantic?” he asked dubiously.
“More than you do,” I told him confidently. Holding up the multi-colored dress, I stepped through it, yanking it up my body. It fit comfortably, not too tight and not too loose. Unfortunately there was a zipper in the back. That I couldn’t reach. Regrettably, I had to ask for help. “Vincent?”
He made a grunt in response.
“I need your help.”
“You do, do you?” he replied, sounding amused. After a moment he twisted around to smirk at me.
I gestured to my back. “Will you zip me up?”
“I don’t know… I might not be romantic enough.”
“You don’t need to be romantic!” I countered, glowering at his sarcasm. “Just please do it!”
He faked a polite smile. “Well, since you said please. Turn around.”
Doing as he said, I cautiously turned my back to him. I sensed him approaching and held my breath, waiting for him to tug the zipper up. When he didn’t right away, I frowned. “What are you doing?”
.
.
“Admiring your skin,” he told me bluntly. “It looks soft.”
“Um, thanks…”
The sound of my zipper going up met my ears and for some reason I felt a little relieved. However, as I went to step away from him, Vincent wrapped his arms around my waist and held me in place. “Should I be romantic?” he murmured into my ear, his breath sending chills down my spine.
“N-not now,” I told him, very aware of the goosebumps appearing on my arms.
“I think it’s an appropriate time,” he disagreed, holding me tighter. “We won’t know what tomorrow brings.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean?”
His arms grew tighter. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“Do you think something bad is going to happen?” I inquired, a feeling of unease washing over me. “Tell me honestly.”
“Yes,” he responded solemnly.
My heart skipped a beat. “To me?”
“No,” he denied at once. “No one will let anything happen to you. Don’t worry about yourself.”
Hesitantly, my hands found his hands on my abdomen. “What about you? Should I worry about you?”
He chuckled. “No, I can take care of myself. My bad feeling must be about the girls who are going to want to dance with me.”
“Yeah,” I said, frowning deeper. It was obvious he was just trying to make me feel better now. “Vincent?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you…” I trailed off, biting my tongue. What was I thinking? I couldn’t ask him that. “Er, would you mind letting go of me so we can see how the dress looks?”
After a moment I felt his arms release me. I took a few steps forward before turning to him, posing dramatically. “How do I look?”
An impressed expression crossed his face. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?”
“Nope.”
“That’s all you have?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Greedy for compliments?”
“No!”
“It’s… nice,” he muttered, whipping his head away from mine.
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow. “That wasn’t what you were going to say.”
“Yes it was.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“I said it was.”
“You’re just embarrassed!” I said teasingly. “You really meant beautiful by that! Absolutely stunning! Alluring! Gorgeous! An absolute godd- mmph! ” My words were cut off as he slapped his hand to my mouth. I gazed at him disappointedly. He always did that!
His cool eyes bore into mine. “Stop complimenting yourself.”
Unable to respond, I just straightened out my back.
“Leave that to me,” he continued, giving me a rough shove backwards.
His hand left my lips and I let out a startled gasp as I tripped over something, losing my balance and falling. Instead of feeling the hard ground, I felt a soft mattress as I landed on the bed. It didn’t occur to me I was still standing by it. Vincent was above me before I could blink, easily pinning me down.
.
.