Three Means 1

Embarassment

Pierre groaned in frustration, his grip tightening on her hips as he attempted to guide Dulce himself, but she swiftly wrapped her hand around his mouth once more, silencing him.

"Shhh..." she demanded.

    "Excusez-moi madame, je suis vraiment désolé de vous déranger mais il n'y a que trois cabines d'essayage et vous y êtes depuis environ une heure."

    (Translation: Excuse me ma'am, I'm really sorry to bother you but there are only three fitting rooms and you have been there for about an hour.)

Pierre couldn't suppress the laugh that emerged, muffled against her palm.

"Shut up, please! I haven't even tried on the second dress," Dulce said, exasperated. She unwrapped her legs from around him and her hand from his mouth, turning to walk back to the fitting room. But Pierre grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him with a sudden force. She stumbled, landing on his lap. He seized the opportunity to tighten his hold, wrapping his arms around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him looking up at her, his expression pleading.

"Let's finish, princess. You always do this to me," he groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. His hands gripped her thighs, pushing them down to keep her in place, not allowing her to move.

"Let go of me, and we'll finish later. It's not my fault people keep interrupting us," she protested.

He released his hold, and Dulce stood up, returning to the fitting room to change.

Once she was dressed, they opened the door and were surprised to be met with a long line of customers, all eyes on them, scrutinizing their every move. Dulce adjusted her skirt, ensuring everything was in place, and they walked to the counter.

Pierre slapped his wallet into the cashier's hand to pay.

    "You don't have to do that, you know?" Dulce said, though she secretly relished it when others paid for her. She dropped her money back into her skirt pockets without further protest.

    As the woman at the register placed the money in the machine and bagged the dresses, Pierre cupped Dulce's cheek, compelling her to look up at him.

   "Anything for you," he said, his tone almost like a promise. Dulce grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand down, glancing around the room with worry in her eyes.

"Stop, let's refrain from touching in public."

Pierre said nothing, but if Dulce had looked up, she would have noticed the slight frown creasing his eyebrows.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing her bag

    As Pierre pulled open the exit door, a familiar voice called out.

    "Wait, don't leave!"

Dulce immediately looked over her shoulder, fear welling up inside her, but it quickly vanished when she saw Fleur standing nearby.

"Hello again, Fleur. What are you doing here?" Dulce asked, hoping Fleur hadn't seen anything incriminating with Pierre.

"Oh, nothing. Angelo thought it would be a good idea for me to get a dress for tonight's event," Fleur explained. Dulce's eyes scanned the room until they met Angelo's gaze.

He stood in the line, looking back at her. When he noticed her staring, he lifted his hand and waved slowly.

"Oh, you're also going?" Dulce asked, her voice faltering slightly.

"Well, yes, I'm Angelo's date," Fleur clarified. It made Dulce want to scream at Angelo for his duplicity, but she realized she was doing something similar, if not worse, to Arthur.