Madrid English Version

Chapter 26

The day Aria had been dreading arrived. Ever since she was a little girl, she had dreaded this evening. But this year, she knew she wouldn't be alone: Carlos was coming with her. He'd insisted on accompanying her and picking her up, even if it was just across the hall.

Aria called her childhood friend, unsure of how to dress for the occasion. She filmed the outfits she had pre-selected, and sent them to the Italian, who took a few minutes to reflect. According to Alba, the first outfit was the one her friend should wear, which she did.

The brunette showered, combed her hair and put on more make-up than usual before getting dressed. As always, she left her wavy hair in its natural state, before adding a touch of lipstick. Aria had just slipped on her skirt, the centerpiece of her outfit, when she heard the doorbell ring. Not expecting to hear the doorbell so soon, Aria hurriedly turned around, dropping the bottle of foundation she had, exceptionally, been using.

She didn't realize the contents of the bottle were spilling until she saw a growing stain on her shirt. She raised and unhung the murder weapon, before lifting the shirt in front of her to see the damage. The engineer had reached a dead end: the stain was far too large to remove in such a short time. Her other shirts were either in the machine or at her best friend's, who was helping herself freely from her cupboards.

Aria had forgotten that someone was at the door and crossed her apartment, shirt in hand, still in her bra, a detail she had forgotten, until the pilot pointed out to her, once the door was open.

- Why are you holding a shirt? he asked, entering the apartment after the Spaniard had invited him in. The brunette showed him the stain, looking dejected.

- I've got to find another outfit, I've run out of shirts, she said in anguish, which broke the pilot's heart to see that she was forced to change, she who seemed so impatient at the idea of wearing this outfit.

- I... I can lend you a shirt if you like, he murmured.

- For real? she questioned, relieved not to have to change.

- Yes, but I think it'll be a bit big for you, he affirmed, heading for his apartment, closely followed by the engineer. Carlos searched his closets to see if he had a shirt too small for him that might fit his neighbor. But his sisters had insisted on sorting through his closets, finding them in disarray, and had removed everything too small, including his shirts. I'm sorry, I don't have a smaller shirt, I shouldn't have said yes to Ana and Bianca, he grumbled, frustrated that he hadn't found the perfect piece for Aria.

- Ana and Bianca? she asked in a small voice, lowering her head, staring at the fingers she was fiddling with.

- You don't have to worry, they're my sisters, you're the only one. He replied, placing his fingers on her chin to lift it and anchor his cerulean eyes in hers.

Aria thanked him with a small smile, before grabbing the garment and slipping it on before the pilot's eyes, who tried not to let his eyes linger on her splendid body. No words could describe how magnificent he found her body. Nevertheless, Carlos couldn't take his eyes off the engineer's feverish body. He could see her ribs protruding and her skin wrapping around her bones, which became even more apparent as she pulled on the brunette's shirt.

As she slipped the garment over her shoulders, Carlos took the opportunity to observe her outfit: she wore a long, pleated, powder-pink skirt, reaching a little above the ankle. The shirt had a slight oversize effect on the brunette's slim body.

The two friends returned to the brunette's apartment so she could put on her heels and finish getting ready. Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of the elevator. And for the first time, Aria didn't wait until she was inside to take her hand, but grabbed it as soon as her door was closed, all the way to the pilot's car, which drove to the address given by the Spaniard's father.