red spade • h.s.

three.

"You aren't smoking in there, are you?"

Cain's voice calls out to me through the bathroom door.

My hand immediately sets the cigarette down onto the bathroom counter, one last puff of strawberry-flavored smoke leaving my mouth. My head is level, and peace rolls over me.

Waving the fruity scent away with my hand, I reply, "No, of course not."

"Good," he grumbles, "Because you've got to get there on time."

I roll my eyes. "I'll be fine. Got plenty of time," I call out, stepping into my dress and pulling the straps over my shoulders.

I look up to the mirror to examine myself. Navy velvet is tight against my curves, with my straight black hair draped over my shoulders. The dress is simple and sleek, with no design or embellishments. Just a dark canvas going from my chest to my midthigh.

There's light makeup on me, concealer coating the circles under my eyes, and shadow slightly brushed onto my eyelids. Pink tints my cheeks and my makeup is topped off with a glossy lip.

I try my best to muster a smile, the corner of my eyes crinkling and mouth widening. But even within my feigned grin, I can still detect the heaviness in my eyes and the tension in my cheeks. I could only hope Spades wouldn't be able to identify the nerves hidden between my fabricated joy.

Then I reach over my backside to zip up my dress.

My fingers dart around, trying to grab onto the tiny zipper, but I find myself giving up after a few minutes of struggle.

"You okay in there?" Cain asks after a few minutes of quiet.

"Yeah, um can you just--" I reach over and open the door, "--help me zip up my dress?"

He stands with a hand on the wall that's supporting his body. He's wearing nothing more than a white t-shirt and Nike shorts, very drastically underdressed compared to me.

A small smile dances on his lips when he sees me, his eyes lingering on me for a long moment. His gaze moves across my figure and lands on my face.

"Uh, Cain?" I ask.

He snaps his eyes back to mine, quickly shaking his head as if pulling himself out of a trance.

"Right, sorry," he mutters, moving behind me. His hands gather my hair gently, fingers brushing against my neck and moving my hair over my shoulder.

The tips of his fingers ghost over my back as he reaches down towards my zipper and my breath catches. A shiver runs through my spine and I can see his eyes trained on my backside in the mirror's reflection.

I will myself to contain the heat spreading across my cheeks, praying that Cain will hurry up.

The zipper makes a quick noise, signaling that Cain has finished zipping my dress up, but he doesn't move for a moment.

He's so close that I can very faintly hear his breathing near my ear and goosebumps erupt across my skin.

When he finally steps away from me, our eyes meet through the mirror. His eyes dart around my face and I'm unsure of what to say.

"You--" he clears his throat, "--you look nice."

I nod, breathing shallowly, "Thank you."

An awkward silence fills the space.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks finally, and I can catch the way he wipes his palms on his hips.

"Yeah, the car should be here in," I check my watch, "four minutes."