Black Ink || Harlena a.u.

21.

After having breakfast- which turned into lunch because we both took our sweet time getting ready- at the diner down the street, we walked to the small shopping center a few blocks over.

We didn't have a car today. Anne's job only lent it to her when a client wanted their makeup done in their house. Which is how she was able to drive to Liam's after finishing up her first client.

There were a variety of dress stores, but only because the bigger shopping center wasn't too far. I guess that in competition, this smaller store priced the dresses cheaper, but the shoppers made up for it.

Anne picked out a two piece, maroon coloured outfit. The top reached only until the end of her ribs, and the bottom went up until the curve of her waist and down before reaching her knees. Needless to say, Anne was at her game.

I was picking dresses that were tight on the top and loose at the bottom, but Anne kept shooting them down, insisting for me to let my inner hoe out.

Finally settling, I went home to change into a white, tube topped dress that was a little tight, but did the job of making my assets seem bigger. It reached a few inches after my knees, but the tightness helped it create an appropriate look for a bar.

We slipped into our high heels, holding on to each other for support. Anne's hair was in messy curls, mine was wavy- the darkness of it creating a nice contrast to the dress.

Anne had done my makeup. She said that something smoldering was perfect for me.

Four hours after coming back from the stores, we were out the door.

***

The bar had enough people to hit on, but it wasn't crowded. Which was great because we didn't want to look stupid going around in circles trying to find a good spot.

We took a seat in the middle. The bartender was cute, but Anne whispered that one of their low-key jobs was to hit on us so we buy more drinks.

I had already ordered a nice tropical drink to start the night, when Anne nudged me hard on the ribs.

"Anne, that shit pokes to the bone," I frowned.

She was looking past my shoulder, "Without making it obvious, look at the guy behind you."

I straightened up, "Do I know him?" My hand flicked my hair to the side, feeling self conscious as if the person was already starring at me.

Conceited? Maybe.

She raised her eyebrows, returning to her drink with a smug look on her face, "All I'm saying," she swirled her drink. "Is that you matched with him on a certain app."

I blinked a few times, taking a long drink before slowly turning around.

Tattoos.

Long hair.

Green eyes.