spin_kick_snap | A Shopping Center, Portland, Maine, Wednesday Afternoon

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A Shopping Center, Portland, Maine, Wednesday Afternoon

After getting out of work in mid-afternoon, Kathy caught a portal up to Portland for the evening. A random text conversation about her wardrobe had led to Ezra pointing out that he was the best shopping partner ever. Considering his fashion sense--especially compared to the fashion senses of damn near everyone else she was friends with--she couldn't really argue with that, so they'd agreed to meet up in Portland for a bit of an impromptu shopping adventure.

Kathy hadn't expected the address he'd given her to be a small huddle of exclusive boutiques and restaurants in the downtown, but knowing Ez, she really probably should have.

"It's a good thing I pay off my credit card every month," Kathy said, looking at the price tag on an elegant sweater that would look amazing on Dante if she could ever convince him to wear such a thing. "I have a feeling I'm going to need every cent of it to afford a spree in this place."

[NFB and for the guy mentioned!]

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"Oh, don't you worry, my little cherry blossom," Ezra said, shaking his head. "I'm sure few could match seventeen-year-old you's utter enthusiasm."

As he spoke, of course, he was examining another dress with a critical eye like he was idly trying to decided whether the stitching was up to his personal standards or something. Not looking at her made it at least a little easier to not think too directly about that night.

(Except he was getting flashes of it anyway. Her on her knees in the alley, spent but still swallowing him down. Her clawing his back to shreds. The sound of her coming around his fingers while his aching -- well, anyway.

What was important was that he didn't let himself think about doing all those things now, right?)

"There were many redeeming qualities. I wouldn't trade that experience for the world." Except perhaps for more of the same.

Edited 2018-03-08 08:06 (UTC)

Judging by Kathy's expression, since she was much less adept at hiding her thoughts than Ezra was, he wasn't the only one taking a brief trip down memory lane. Her hand unconsciously stroked the dress she still held against her, unable to keep still.

A moment later, she met his eyes and flushed, hand dropping to her side as she realized what it had been doing. But her gaze was clear and steady above her pinking cheeks and her chin high. "Pretty sure I still have that same level of enthusiasm now," she said lightly. "Everything else got better, though."

"Oh, did it?" Ezra replied, keeping his tone light.

It wanted to be something else.

"I'm not surprised."

Just two people, having a completely light conversation.

"Well, gods, I hope so!" Kathy said with a laugh. "At least, a lot more confidence and practice have gone into it. I should hope by this point I've gotten better."

"It does make sense," Ezra allowed. Like anything else was even a possibility.

He reached for the dress she'd been holding up. For a closer look. Kept his tone as idle as he could. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it."

"For tonight anyway," Kathy agreed, watching his expression. And no, not because she thought he'd have any grand revelations about the dress.

There wasn't much there. Ezra was decent enough at cleaning the traces of lust and longing and whatever else off his face. Especially when he knew he was being watched.

"Mm."

... Yes, he was being opaque on puprose. The only thing he didn't do was make it seem like his reaction had anything to do with the dress.

Oh were they doing this again? Kathy didn't even sigh, just turned around to continue to go through the dresses, looking to try a few on. She was doing her level best to stop reading into every little expression or non-committal noise the guys did; if they wanted to tell her something, they could use their goddamn words.

Ezra was pretty sure she already knew everything he could say, and for as long as the status quo remained, he wasn't going to risk saying them again.

If she thought there was something else to say, she could ask.

He put the dress back on the rack and picked up another one - then immediately put that back as well, because ugh, garish.

Nah, she was pretty sure she had the information she needed.

"I'm liking this one," Kathy said, pulling out a deep, wine-red dress. The hem was flirty, going down to about mid-thigh, with a scalloped neckline that hugged her upper arms and left her shoulders bare. Thin gold threads caught the light around the hem and cuffs weaving in a subtle pattern. "Almost makes me wish I had places to wear it to."

Ezra looked over with a critical gaze a beat later.

He tilted his head, then nodded, before looking up at her face. "You're too tied up in dresscodes, darling," he said. "You can wear it wherever you want."

"But it's so pretty," she murmured, looking at it longingly. "Seems like a waste to wear it around the kitchen getting stuff on it. Or at Dite's where no one will even see it."

And, she loved her guys, she really did, but they were more interested in what she wasn't wearing than what she was.

Ezra's eyebrows climbed way up.

"Those can't be the only two places you go."

"Well, not exactly," Kathy said, not wanting to admit how close it was to 'yes exactly.' "I mean, I visit people on the island, too. And sometimes we go on dates in Baltimore..."

Ahe and Dante had gone on two! And they were awesome. She just also doubted that he could say what she'd been wearing if he was paid to.

Ezra wasn't going to tell her, but even without the 'yes exactly', between what she was saying right now and what Dante had told him before...

He continued to find it baffling why they chose to live the way they did. In more ways than one.

"So, wear it wherever."

Kathy was only really getting to the point where she wanted to go out more often. She'd needed the safety and peace of home to rebuild herself from the shattered pieces of January.

Now, she wasn't perfect but she was better and she was starting to stretch her wings again.

"Let me at least try it on first," Kathy said. She looked at the price tag and sighed, but laid it over her arm anyway, along with a similar one in cobalt blue with silver threading and forest green and copper, though they each had different cuts and necklines. "No point in worrying about where I'll wear it if it looks stupid, right?"

"It's not going to look stupid."

Of this, he was sure. One hundred percent.

Kathy's own certainty hovered somewhere around eighty percent on a great day and sixty-five percent on an average one, so she was still looking for a changing room. They were away in the back, three individual changing that opened into a small waiting area for people who weren't trying on clothes. The waiting area had a couch and a three-way mirror and the changing rooms were closed off only by a thick curtain. Kathy stopped when she saw them, biting her lip and glancing from the changing room to Ez and back.

And blushed. Because if things were even just a little bit different between them, she wouldn't have been able to resist the mix of privacy and daring that those changing rooms represented.

"I should--" She paused and coughed, then continued in a slightly more normal tone. "Just gonna try these on, yeah."

Ezra looked towards the changing rooms for just a little too long. Maybe there was some manner of longing to it, if you looked at it right? It was his version of her blushing cheeks.

Then he looked at her, and nodded. "I'll be waiting."

At least the couch looked comfortable.

One day she held out hope that she, too, would be harder to read. One day.

For now, she had to live with almost every damn emotion crossing over her face and offering a helpful handbook to whatever she was thinking at that moment to anyone who cared to look.

She didn't bother answering, just stepped over to a changing stall. Another mirror hung directly in front of her when she stepped in, which Kathy was considering a personal insult and then she was closing the curtain firmly, making sure it didn't gap open by accident.

Or even by 'accident.'

And then if she took a few seconds to rest against the wall, breathe, and tell herself to chill, that was between her and her god. By the time she opened the curtain again, dress on and snug in the bodice, flaring at her hips in clean lines to her thighs, she appeared at least a little calmer. "Does it look weird showing my tattoo?" she asked, gesturing to the circle of stark black and red ink on her right shoulder.

At least the couch was comfortable.

Because that's where he was while she was getting changed (and whatever else she was doing). Just sitting. Not even looking at himself in the mirror for more than a second or two.

And then she was there again. "Not in the slightest," he said, and added an approving nod for emphasis. "It looks fantastic. Very flattering."

"You think so?" Kathy asked, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She couldn't help but give a little twirl, appreciating the way the skirt flared and fluttered. "...I really like this dress."

She liked the other two, too, but something about this one--either the color or the cut or something--really grabbed at her.

"You think I should get it?"

Ezra nodded again.

He also rose from the couch, like perhaps he'd get a better look that way. Or a fuller one. Something.

Look, he was just trying to appreciate her from a vaguely objective kind of aesthetic standpoint, or something, and not to think about the fact that she'd been wearing far less so near his presence just a minute ago.

"I do. I'm sure you can figure out the occasions to wear it, dumpling."

And considering there were no straps marring the smooth skin of her shoulders, she was still wearing considerably less than she'd been before as well.

"Probably look better with proper heels, rather than snow boots," she added with a laugh, twisting her hair up just to see how the neckline looked with a slightly more formal hairstyle. "Yeah. I'm thinking you're right."

Of course Ezra had noticed the lack of straps. Of course. It was one of the things he wasn't thinking about, even if he stepped a step or two closer.

And he scoffed. "Of course I'm right. My taste is impeccable."

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