If You Must [Elle]

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/hendmiddle1.png] He couldn't remember a time when he was actually out in the town during the daytime. The light wasn't very useful as far as his hobbies went, and if he hung out at a bar during the day, then others would think of him as an alcoholic - Which, he supposed, he kind of was already, but he never got drunk, so he didn't really count it. Typically, on a day like today, he would spend it wandering around the outlands, distracting himself until nightfall. Or on occasion he would come across a traveler and decide that it wasn't worth it waiting until the night. However, today his day had been spent much differently and actually much more relaxing. Not that he was going to make a habit out of hanging around town during the day. He got nervous whenever he stayed in one place for too long, and 24 hours within the same town - a town that he knew had dungeons and torture devices, at that - sounded like a bad idea. However, he'd made a promise to someone, and this time he decided that it was actually worth keeping. That was how he'd spent several hours looking terribly paranoid within a boutique of sorts. To keep himself occupied, he again counted the money that he rarely ever used as he waited for Amy who had disappeared within the booth to try on yet more clothes. "So yeah," he continued, speaking through the door, "you could say I'm originally from the outskirts of London. It's really a nice place. I could take you there sometime." He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Again with those damned promises. Damn promises that he felt obligated to keep. But there was something about her... despite the pain he occasionally felt, he seemed to enjoy her company. It was strange, seeing as there was nothing special about her. No, that was a lie. There was something special about her. She knew about his "condition" and yet she was perfectly comfortable to be around him. She would even act as if he were a normal person. She was just... so ****ing nice. He found it difficult to be anything but nice back. She really was a good kid. Well, she'd better be. After all, for who else was he willing to spend hours clothes shopping with? That was something... that he'd never share with anyone.

[elle]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/mtqyde.png] Standing in front of the mirror in the changing booth, Amy first squinted her eyes at her reflection. Then, she turned to the left. Then she turned to the right. Finally, she spun around and looked straight into the mirror again, as if the act of spinning would change the way the shirt looked on her. Well it didn't, so, frowning, she pulled it off and tossed it with the other clothes that she was unsatisfied with. Though she had been reluctant to go shopping at first - spending someone else's money was always uncomfortable - now that she was here, she was beyond glad that he offered. She'd forgotten how much fun it could be to shop. She must have spent hours in this store alone, trying on any outfit that happened to catch her eye. The actual pile of clothes that she actually intended to buy was much smaller that the pile that she chose not to buy, however. But still, it was fun to just play dress-up. She doubted it was as much fun for Hendrix, as the majority of his day consisted of waiting for her, but he stayed anyway, despite how he probably had much better things to do. For that, she was grateful. She pulled another outfit, still on its hanger, out of the pile and held it up to herself. It was something that she would have never dreamed of buying, but out of curiosity - and wanting to have a little fun - she decided to try it on anyway. "Ooh, really?" She responded, pulling the top over her head, "That sounds really nice!" She was glad there was a door separating them so he couldn't see her blush. She had to admit that she really liked the attention he was giving her, and how strangely nice he was being. Whatever suspicions she had initially felt about his newfound chivalry were quickly disappearing. Perhaps that was a bad thing, but she couldn't help these feelings. Having finished putting on the outfit, she checked herself out in the mirror, and suppressed a giggle. It was certainly something she would never wear, but she did look... good. Like, a sexy kind of good which, she guessed, was the point. The seductive, scarlet top clung to her form with the aid of a single sleeve. The top itself ended very close below her breasts, exposing a great deal of her midriff. The flowing, gown-like bottom was the same shade of red as the top, but with a silky look and feel, and a black border along the bottom. It hung suspiciously low on her hips. Opening the changing room door, she walked out into the open, again inspecting herself in the mirror that was just outside the booth before turning to Hendrix, looking so very innocent. "So, what do you think?"

[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/hendmiddle1.png] The more time that went by, the more restless he became. So now, to keep himself occupied, he inspected his appearance in one of the many mirrors in the shop and there he noticed several hairs that were slightly out of place. So naturally, he set about fixing them. After all, it would never do for anyone to see him looking so disheveled. Once he had his hair just right, he moved on to his jacket, straightening the collar and tugging on it so that it was just a little off center. It wouldn't do to have it perfectly symmetrical. What was he, a businessman? It needed to look as if he'd just thrown it on, and so he could spend hours trying to perfectly capture that feeling. He'd noticed that he was less inclined to fret over his appearance when he was around Amy. It was probably because he didn't want to seem like some high-maintenance douchebag. Or maybe he just didn't see her as a romantic possibility. Yeah, it was probably the first one. Even though he kinda was a high-maitenance douchebag, it was never a good thing when other people thought that of you. It didn't usually help the image. Of course, there were girls who were into that sort of thing. ... ****. It was probably a bad idea to start thinking about women now. With a sigh, he turned around as he heard the changing booth door open. Amy stopped in front of the mirror for just a moment before turning to him, asking his opinion on her outfit. Her outfit... it was... awfully revealing. He tried to act as though he were appraising her outfit as a whole while he casually allowed his eyes to rudely trail along her body. From her small, bare shoulder, along the tantalizing curve of her chest, around her flat, exposed stomach... he didn't dare go any lower. Already finding it difficult to think clearly, he decided that it was about time for him to try and say something. Unfortunately, whatever acceptable response he may have been able to think of died in his throat, and all he was able to manage was a bunch of stammered vowel sounds. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze. He could already feel his face beginning to redden and that annoyed him beyond measure. "Nice," he said quickly, "it's nice." He didn't look back at her, but silently hoped that she would go back into her changing booth now. He wasn't going to hurt her, but he, himself, was in actual physical and mental pain by now.