/A romantic novel with some features of a dystopia close to reality/
Vivian lives in a world where everything must go according to the plan.
Order and security are the foundation of this world, as well as total control and painful punishment for th...
I walk into Vivian's room when I hear her coming up the stairs. Her clothes are scattered all over the bed.
"I didn't have time to sort out all the boxes, I'll put everything away now," she makes an excuse, upon entering.
"I don't care. If it's convenient for you to sleep like this, let it stay as it is," I try to joke.
She goes through the things, putting them in a neat pile on the edge.
"These dresses...," Vivian begins, "don't you think they're a little...indecent?"
"These dresses will flatter your body. You have nothing to be shy about, Vivian," I assure her.
"I don't even have anywhere to go in them. These aren't everyday outfits, are they?" she asks cautiously.
"They are, if you want them to be," I tease her.
She makes a funny face, clearly disagreeing with me. I decide to change the subject a bit.
"How was your first day at work?"
"It was hard," she admits honestly, "This job is unlike anything I've done before. My tasks were mostly mental, but here they're physical. Maybe it's just out of habit, but now my body is groaning with horror."
Not only me, but Vivian herself is surprised at the ease and casualty with which she tells me about her day.
She looks at me, trying to find an explanation for what's happening.
I distract her in an attempt to return to the comfortable atmosphere that reigned a few seconds ago.
"Did you like the dinner?" I try to find out.
"Yes, thank you so much, everything was delicious."
"By everything you mean a miserable pasta?" I mock, selfishly calling her for a compliment.
"Well, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have this either. And it really was delicious, at least for me," Vivian smiles warmly.
"Yeah, Grace is impossible to please. That's why I'm not even trying to," I answer mockingly. "Do you like cooking?"
"I seemed to be doing pretty well when I tried. The fact is my mother doesn't trust anyone to cook except herself. My experience is based mostly on observation," she modestly admits.
"Then we're both doomed without Grace," I state, grinning.
I like it when Vivian smiles so wide you can see her white even teeth.
I catch myself thinking I'd like to hear her laugh. Although she's still quite closed, and I, let's face it, am not a god of humor...
Maybe Grace could make her laugh one day.
"Hm, what's this?"asks Vivian, holding the fabric with two fingers.
"I don't remember what I ordered anymore. Let me take a closer look," I take the material from her hands and unfold it. "If I get it right, this is a silk chemise dress," I conclude.
"They obviously got greedy for the fabric," she comments sarcastically.
"We can always bring back what doesn't fit."
"I need to try everything on and decide. I've got no energy for anything now."
I take it as a sign that I need to leave her alone.
"I'll come back later," I promise.
"Okay," Vivian replies, starting to put things away from the bed again.
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