Chimera | H.S Mature

16.

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*Samantha's POV*

'Ugh' I groaned as I threw yet another outfit onto my bed, adding to the every growing pile that was slowly beginning to form. So far I had been through every outfit I owned twice but stull nothing seemed right, it was either too dressy or too casual. What does someone even wear to the house of someone you have kind of been on 2 dates with and who you aren't really sure if you like or not?

I decided to rummage through the pile once more, digging deep into the mound of unacceptable clothes in an effort to find something. I pulled out a pair of tight fitting dark blue jeans and placed them to one side, returning to the pile to try and find a top to wear with them. Eventually I placed my hand on a sleeveless blouse which buttoned up at the front. It was a pale pink and was one of the few things I owned which didn't make me look washed out and pale. It occurred to me that this would be the first time Harry had seen me in something that wasn't one of the knee length pencil skirts I wore to work of the dress I wore to dinner the other night.

Nodding my head in silent approval at what I had finally chosen I paced the top with the jeans and shuffled into the bathroom, the tiled floor still cold through my sock clad feet. All the make-up I owned, which wasn't much, was cast to one side of the bathroom shelf, stocked in a messy pile against the wall. I wore make-up every day, but nothing too extravagant, so I only owned the basics. I quickly washed my face to clear the make-up I had been wearing during the day and started again, covering my whole face with foundation before adding bronzer, blusher and a light coating of mascara. My hand wavered momentarily over the tube of eyeliner but I decided against it, not prepared to battle with the thin black line tonight.

I plugged in my curling iron and switched in on, running brush quickly through my hair before curling the ends loosely. I wanted to look nice, but I didn't want to make it obvious that I had put a lot of effort into my appearance for him.

"Stop it Samantha" I muttered to myself as I poked and prodded at my appearance in the mirror, adding a bit more blush because I looked to pale, and curling a single strand of hair because it wasn't as curly as the others. This was getting ridiculous. It had been a week since I met the boy, and here I was taking an excessive amount of time to look good for him.

I forced myself to leave the bathroom to get dressed, shimmying on the jeans over my legs and fastening them around my waist. I pulled them slightly higher up my stomach that was necessary to try and hide my muffin top. I then dashed back to the bathroom, quickly running a razor over my under arms before returning and slipping on the blouse.

I let out a deep breath and I slipped on a pair of black pumps and grabbed my handbag which had been tossed on my bed when I arrived home.

"Ok, that'll have to do" I said, taking one last look in the mirror and tucking one side of my hair behind me ear before heading to the front door and grabbing my keys and leather jacket. It was a warm, dry evening in London, but I didn't doubt that during the walk to Harry's apartment it would grow cooler.

Harry lived on Charlwood Place, about 10 minutes away from where I knew Daniella lived. He had offered to come pick me up but I told him not to worry, I would get a taxi to Vauxhall Bridge road and then walk the rest of the way, it was a pleasant night and I was a quick walker so it wouldn't take me long. Plus it would give me the opportunity to walk the same streets Daniella had done the night see was attacked, and I was keen to see where it had happened.

You never switch off Sammy, my Dads words echoed in my head and he was right, I never did. Every second of the day my mind would race at 100 miles a minute, needing answers to everything that was happening and not settling until I was able to give myself at least some form of explanation. I was told at university that it was one of the things that would make me a good detective, I never accepted things for how they seemed, there always had to be something more.