Dawn Of Twilight

Chapter 15 : Heavenly (Part 2)

The lighting was brighter here, cruelly exposing. Erevin followed Dawn into the aisle lined with swimsuits—colorful patterns, sleek designs, strings and straps and far too little fabric for his comfort.

Dawn, on the other hand, looked *completely* at home.

She walked with a bounce in her step, fingers drifting across hangers like she was browsing candy instead of swimwear. She paused at a rack and held up a red strapless bikini.

Erevin stared.

It had sharp little white accents, almost like shark teeth. "This one looks dangerous," she grinned.

Then she moved on to a black one-piece with side cut-outs. "Mmm... classic and spicy," she murmured, almost to herself, then plucked a floral bikini off the rack like it owed her money.

Finally, she stopped, smiled, and pulled out a pastel pink set—complete with cat ears stitched to the top and a tiny golden bell sewn at the center of the chest.

Erevin's brain just... shut down.

He didn't even realize she'd walked back until she was pressing all four into his hands.

"Hold these," she said, casually, as if she hadn't just handed him the keys to panic.

"These?" His voice cracked.

Dawn tilted her head, hands still sorting through options. "Yeah. Feel the fabric. Tell me which one feels best." She turned, raised an eyebrow. "And which one would look good on me."

Erevin looked down. Then up. Then anywhere but at her.

He muttered something about how they all looked "summery."

Then Dawn picked up one of the more daring designs on the next rack—a lacy mesh number that might've qualified more as string theory than swimwear.

She held it up thoughtfully. "You like this one?"

Erevin's soul left his body.

"W-what? No! I mean—what? No. That's not—I wasn't looking at that one!" He turned sharply to pretend-interest in a rack labeled "40% off," his ears visibly red.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

The swimsuit hanging before him—if it could even be called that—was made of three triangles, some string, and questionable morals. The top barely existed, held together by threads that looked like they'd snap if you breathed wrong. The bottom? A single strip, narrower than his pinky finger.

Erevin blinked.

And then blinked again.

Because his brain refused to process it.

His eyes darted away like they'd been scalded. He couldn't even describe what he'd just seen. Describing meant acknowledging. Acknowledging meant looking.

And looking meant death.

Behind him, Dawn's voice purred out, suspiciously close. "What's that one?"

Erevin stiffened. "N-Nothing. Just... discount stuff."

She leaned in, peeking over his shoulder—and then let out a little hum.

"Oh," she said, dragging out the syllable, mischief already lacing her tone. "So, you like that one better?"

His soul left his body again.

"What?! No! I-I didn't—I wasn't—" His voice broke so hard it took a second to find the next word. "I wasn't looking at it like that!"