' If you're gonna break my heart, just break it
And if you're gonna take your shot, then take it
Take it
If you made up your mind, then make it
But make this fast
If you ever loved me
Have mercy '
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"DRESSES, dresses, and, oh look, more fucking dresses," Skye complained to herself as she looked at racks and racks of dresses. "For fucks sakes," she complained.
"The hot pink would look perfect with your skin down." She whirled around to come face to face with Lydia Martin. "Skye, Scott's little sister, right?" She tilted her head, looking the brunette up and down.
"Older," Skye corrected her. "What do you want, Lydia Bombshell?" She questioned, crossing her arms as she looked her up and down.
"I want to help you find the perfect dress, that's what I want." She clicked her tongue and hummed, looking at the row of pink dresses. She hummed again before grabbing a dress. "This is the one." She pushed the dress into her chest, nodding. "That is totally the dress." She the snapped her finger and what Skye saw made her choke on her salvia.
Stiles came running around the corner, a pile of dresses in his hands.
Lydia grabbed a light pink dress and threw it onto the pile as Skye stood there, her mouth agape. "Stiles, what in the holy grail of cheesy goodness do you think you're doing here?"
"Uh," his mouth hung open as he noticed she was standing there. "What are you doing here?"
"She was obviously looking for a dress, Stiles," Allison spoke as she came out of nowhere.
"And I found one." Skye grinned, wiggling the dress around in the air for inference. "And I'm going." She snapped her gaze to Stiles. "You're coming with me." She grabbed the pile of dresses from Stiles and threw it into Lydia's arms.
"Why?" Stiles questioned as she grabbed his hand, and started walking towards the suit area in the mall.
"Because we're getting you a suit," Skye informed him and went straight to the guy who measures the body.
"Again, I ask, why?" Stiles asked her as he held out his arms, allowing the guy to measure his arm length.
"Because you're going to the dance, duh." She plopped down on the leather couch and looked up at him.
"I was already planning on it..." He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows.
"With me," she added and watched as he froze, his face heating up like a tomato, and his mouth fell agape.
"Wha—"
"You do want to, right?" Skye questioned, starting to feel stupid and insecure. Maybe that was why he was here with Lydia; he wanted to go with her.
"What?"
"You do want to go with me to the dance, right?" She asked again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, chewing down on her bottom lip. "I mean, I understand if you want to go with Lydia. You've had a crush on her since like the third grade, so I totally understand if you don't want to be seen with a loser like me. Lydia is so much prettier than I am anyway, and—"
