Midlife // Joji

Nine

I flung open the dressing room door and looked down at George.

I was irritated.

I am not built for trying on dresses.

I'm not tall and skinny, I'm 5'6" and built to carry babies and survive potato famines. Every single dress I tried on fit worse than the one before, always too loose or too tight in all the wrong places.

"Uhm, it looks good," George managed to spit out while looking me up and down.

"Liar." I hissed.

I turned on my heel and shutting the dressing room door once again.

"Why's there even a dress code for a party at someone's home anyway?" I questioned but didn't allow him a chance to answer, as I began wiggling the horrid dress off of myself. "Seriously? And why black-tie of all things? Why not have a pajama party, and the dress code can be pajamas. That sounds way better than black-tie. Not to mention, George, it's not hard to find pajamas that fit. I could wear my Garfield shirt tonight and look way better than I did in any dress I've tried on."

Finally, the dress slipped of my hips and fell to the floor, I picked it up off the floor and put it back on the hanger it belonged on.

"Don't you think?" I opened the door slightly and poked my head out, George was no longer on the bench he'd been on for the past 30 minutes.

"George? Where did you go?" I mumbled looking around.

Just then he came around the corner holding another dress in his hand.

"Try this one." He demanded.

I looked at him perplexed, "You didn't hear any of what I just said?"

"No, El, everyone in the store heard you yelling about how hot you look in your Garfield pajamas." He grinned.

If he weren't so charming, I think I would fight him.

I scowled at him then snatched the dress from his hand and once again slamming the door in his face.

"If it were up to me, I'd let you wear your pajamas everywhere, but Austin is having a party to celebrate some awards he got recently." George said from the other side of the door.

I stepped into the dress and pulled it on.

Finally, a dress that looks tolerable.

As I usually did, I flung the door open and looked at George, but for once I was content with what he was seeing.

It was a black, velvet cocktail dress, the top was slightly loose, and the bottom hugged my hips, butt and thighs just right.

George inhaled sharply, rising to his feet from the bench, "wow."

"I think this is as good as it's gonna get," I mumbled.

His eyes crawled up and down my body, almost like he was searching for something.

"It's perfect, El," he licked his plump lips.

He took a step towards me, grabbing my waist he spun me around to face the mirror inside the tiny well lit dressing room.

With my back to his stomach, his long arms snaked around my hips. His soft lips casually found their way to the crook of my neck, laying delicate kisses on my skin.

I watched his reflection in the mirror closely.

His dark hair.

His pale skin.

And every so often, he would look up in the mirror and I would see his brown eyes looking back at me.

His gorgeous, dreamy, make you want to melt, chocolate brown eyes.