I stood there, eyeballing myself from head to toe while I was wearing something that I would never, voluntarily, wear in a million years. All up to Connor's request, of coarse. I was his date to the dance. The dance wasn't for a week, but I had no idea how quickly a week would go by; as to how quickly the summer had.
I just wanted to see what it looked like; but I hated it. I hated being able to look at myself and imagine why I had to always hold my stomach in. I set a hand over my own waist to try and imagine what I would look like if I was just a little slimmer; there was no hope. I used to be completely satisfied with myself; I don't know what kind of epidemic pulled that away from me.
-
"Is it bad luck to see your girlfriend in a dress before the occasion; or is that myth just for weddings?" Connor voice came from the doorway, when I wasn't expecting for him to show up.
I gasped and didn't know how to quickly hide myself. The dress was completely white and lengthened to just about my knees, there was no way I could just use my arms to hide all of it. His cheeks were rosy when he saw the way I looked. I didn't have makeup on, nor did I have my hair prepared; like I would when I actually wore the dress to the dance, itself. So, it wasn't a complete spoiler; I suppose.
He tilted his head to one side, stepping closer to me. He took a second to look down at the dress, then he looked back up at me. Something about the way he looked at me, at that very moment, gave me the same little butterflies that I missed so much. He bit his lip, trying to hide his smiling; but he was terribly failing at it. And instead of hiding his smile, he just looked completely and utterly adorable. Then he squinted, just a little, mentally referring to one of his favorite memories, "Just like the day I fell in love with you...," he whispered. I don't know if he realized that he was thinking out loud; but when he said that, I could already feel my face turn red. Another one of the many things that I would top on the list of amazing-things-Connor-has-ever-said-to-me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and just stared me in the eyes for a moment; as if, for a second, he wasn't even admiring the dress anymore, "You look ravishing, Skylar Faith," he tells me, as if he was trying to sound like Augustus Waters. I lifted an eyebrow, trying not to argue with his compliment. I didn't want to ruin the moment, like I normally did. I didn't know what else to do with my arms, other than lift them over his shoulders. By the way we were both standing, it looked much like we were going to slow dance or something; but we were probably going to save that for the school dance, itself. I could not dance, nor did I want to around that many people. But, in realness, he would probably make me.
I only had the focus to scrunch up my nose, in response to his compliment. And in the midst of doing so, he did the same. When he would do something like that, it was far more adorable, though. I probably just looked similar enough to a rodent.
"If I'm wearing a dress, does this mean that I get to see Connor Anthony in a suit?" I asked him as if I was completely interested in the question. He shrugged, tensing up the muscles in his face to appear that he was thinking things over, "There might be that possibility." He grinned.
I lifted both my eyebrows, as if I was amazed with what he just said, "Connor Anthony in a suit? What world am I in right now?
He scoffed at my sarcasm and leaned in to kiss me on the nose; just out of the blue.
I looked up at him, admiring every amazing little detail in his face, "What was that for?" I whispered.
"You're just adorable." He tells me, as if he didn't even have to hesitate first.
As soon as he said it, I wanted to reject it. It was just what I knew how to do; I was terrible at just in-taking any form of a compliment. But I tried to keep it a lower level than completely listing all of the reasons on why he was wrong, "Nah," I giggled and stepped away from him, trying to avoid looking him in the eye anymore. At moments like that, he would stubbornly try and argue with me; even if it was something pointless, like the topic of me "being adorable". And I could never get over how cute his reaction to something like that was, "Oh my god, yes you are." He laughed and tried to follow me around the room while I, continually moved my face away from him.
"Skylar," his made his voice sound like a pouting child's, while he tried to reach for my face and get me to look at him. I resisted as best as I could and started walking in the opposite directions as him, but he followed at my heels, "stop it," he joked and tried to get a hold of my arms so I couldn't cover my face. The both of us practically stumbled over our own heels and I ended up falling onto the floor. My back hit the ground before the rest of me did; and I had the wind knocked out of my lungs in an instant. I was too busy laughing to care much, though. Connor was trying his best not to land on me while he had his hands on the ground and he aimed his fall beside me. But his elbow ended up slamming into my shoulder. Immediately, without even caring about himself first, he apologized a million times for possibly hurting me. His eyes widened and his laughter cut off when he saw that I wasn't reacting to it. He set his hand on the side of my face and spoke quickly, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."
I squinted up at him and smiled like a dork, "It's fine, I'm okay."
He started laughing a little, but I could see how guilty he felt for something so little, "I'm sorry." He repeated and contained his rapid apologies. I tilted my head to one side, looking up at the way he appeared. There was a golden ring around him, from where the light was set behind him. His eyes were big and sympathetic from something he shouldn't have even felt sorry for. I squinted at him, realizing how much I was actually spacing out. He really was perfect. I never knew that I could know someone my whole life and never stop to realize who they really were to me; but that was the story of Connor Anthony, in my life. It was strange; but I loved it.
I was totally forgetting that he was waiting for me to say, "I'm okay" again. But I could no longer focus, "I'm so lucky," I whispered, watching his eyes dart from one of mine to the other. He looked confused, "What," he laughs a little, "you're lucky because my elbow dug into your shoulder?"
I knew that he understood what I meant, he was just trying to play it off. He was adorable, that way. "No, dork," I chuckled and scrunched my nose up, "I'm just lucky."
He pursed his lip, like a puppy and I couldn't help but smile at him. I could see that he wanted to stubbornly argue with me about it, but he stopped himself. And out of the blue, like a usual moment, he kissed me. He always knew when to do something like that.
He pulled away for a second, lifting his eyebrow, "I actually think I'm the lucky one." He couldn't help himself.
So I rolled my eyes and kissed him again, "Oh, shut up."
YOU ARE READING
Imperfect | est. 2015
Teen Fiction"but that's the fun part," she says, "you can't tell a soul."
