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She didn't have to dress up but it felt strange not to. Well, 'dressing up' for her was anything other than slouchy jumpers, it wasn't like she was wearing a flashy diamond adorned ball gown or anything. However, any increase effort still felt like she had painted herself neon with a sign attached screaming "look at me!".
She hadn't met anyone new who she had wanted to impress since . . . well, since Damon and even then she had never tried (or wanted) to impress him with her looks. Her appearance didn't cross her mind, he had seen her at her worst so, even now when she wanted him to find her attractive, she didn't put any thought into it. She had decided very early that she wasn't going to be uncomfortable in her own home just because of some stupid self conscious concern.
She had never met anyone's parents. Maybe when she was six years old at a birthday party, the age where how you're perceived isn't an issue that anyone ever thought about. This was different. She did care about what Damon's family would think of her. This meant that it was time to dig out her one and only dress, the one that wasn't funeral attire.
It had been a badly gifted present. Clearly her dad hadn't picked up on the fact that she hadn't worn a dress since she was about five (and even then she threw a tantrum over it).
However, it seems that — in hindsight — she guessed should actually thank him. At least she now had something suitable to wear. Maybe he was secretly psychic and had predicted that she'd be in this situation. If he had seen it coming (which was very unlikely, but not entirely impossible) then she would be annoyed at him for not warning her. She would've appreciated a heads up.
Something along the lines of: "By the way in about 5 years time you'll be meeting your roommates parents — a roommate you once hated and have now developed feelings for — when you spend Christmas with them."
Even if he did know, she probably wouldn't have believed him (once again, he definitely didn't know. Like all men, he was completely oblivious). The whole thing felt like a dream, or a nightmare depending on how you viewed it. Right now, as she was walking down the stairs, highly self conscious with two bags keeping each hand occupied, Francesca was leaning towards the nightmare side of things.
For once Damon was waiting on her. It seemed like today was full of unusual occurrences.
She was trying to act casual. Pretending nothing was out of the ordinary and hoping he wouldn't notice. He did. Because of course he fucking did. Now he decides to be observant? Great. She didn't know whether the look on his face was one of judgement or admiration. She didn't want to figure it out — she just wanted it to disappear.
The worst outcome was acknowledgment of her change in appearance. Though, she should've known it wasn't going to go under the radar. She felt her neck heat up; then that heat traveled up to her cheeks. She was utterly embarrassed, without being entirely sure why. She kept telling herself it was normal to dress up and yet it felt strangely humiliating.
