SIDELINES : Wildflower One Shots and Short Shots

RACHELLE - Grey's Tribute : The Dress

Inspired from Grey's Tribute, written by 

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Clayton

Grey's Tribute

Fin's Claim

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The dress. If our clothing could speak...

I am being taken off the mannequin again, another potential, another female seeking to be wrapped in my layers. Seeking to be made beautiful by the illusion that I am. 

This one is taller, petite, sun-kissed hair and slight pout to her lips as though she is never quie happy. As she turns to and fro in the three way reflection, I study us. She doesn't have the curves to fill out my form, to give me the proper shape. Giggling, another female encourages her to choose me anyway. I stretch as she pats the fabric this way and that. She wants me, wants the illusion I bring. Coveting what I can not give her...

Sensual beauty, dark lace over nude silk, long sleeves and two dozen dark pearls from the small of the back to the nap of the neck. The modesty essential to what I am but the illusion of being so much less than modest. She buys me anyway, perhaps someday her wiry body will grow into the curves I require. My many days of staring out the clear surface that separates me from the living beings who dwell here are over. Wrapped in smothering plastic and darkness, I leave the boutique. Taken to her home, I hang in the place where others like me wait for our purpose. 

Time passed. I feel forgotten...

She is here, pulling us down, throwing us onto the bed. Most of us she has worn at least once to the world beyond, but not I. Purposeless is how I feel until she takes me out, holding me in front of her body as we look into the reflection. She still does not fit me, fill me, I was not meant for her shape. She piles me with the others and we are carried to a different place. Thrown in a careless heap on another's bed. 

This new female tentatively fingers my sisters and I. Something about her draws her to me, I can feel that she doesn't believe in beauty. She pushes aside my sisters with their exposed shoulders and deep necklines. A thin line purses her lips as she tucks me against her chest and retreats in to the pale room where they bathe. Her skin surprises me, is is puckered in places,discolored, raised, it has texture, just like my lace. She makes herself not look at it as she slides me over her body. I would breathe a sigh of relief if I breathed, I fit her perfectly. She fills out my shape as though I was made just for her. Her skin feels strange against me, not smooth at all, unlike the others. I don't understand, I did not know they came in textures too. 

She smiles at us in the mirror before calling out to the female that purchased me all that time ago. "I just need some help doing the backup."

Her voice has a soft lilt as she rubs my silk under-layer against her surface, it is almost the same color as her skin. I revel in the feeling it gives her. This... this is the female I was made for, made to cover her textured surface with my layers. I was made to cling to her curves. I was made to make her beautiful. Joy blooms as my purpose is fulfilled.

The other female comes in smiling, happy for her friend but her amusement quickly fades and her hands shake as she pops my tiny buttons into place. 

Eyes shine,