Fighting For You (A Demi Lovato Fanfic) [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Alexis's POV

A large smile is permanently etched on my face. "So when do I pack?" Demi's Neon Lights Tour was about to start and we had to get to Canada as soon as possible, where the first show would take place. I was excited since she said that it would be different from all the others.

I would have to talk to Luke, my doorman, about my rent and apartment. Maybe he could suspend the monthly bills until I got back. That'd be nice of him, plus he owed me big time. I saved his ass from the police.

Don't ask. It's a long story. I'm not even joking.

"It would be nice if you started, mm, right now." Her pink hair is messy as she rises from the ground, looking down on me. My breath is taken away at the sight of her. She was all mine too. That makes my previous smile broader. My eyes wander from her face to her body. I'm just gawking her curves. Biting my lip, my nails dig into the floor. "Alexis, baby, as much as I like you gaping at my body, I'd like your eyes up here." Amusement is laced in her tone, making me flush with embarrassment. She extends her hand out, helping me up. "Come on. We have work to do."

Her order rings in my ears as I nod in affirmation, leading us to my bedroom. The dorm brings up memories from long ago, making me flustered and somewhat excited. I lug out the medium sized, dark blue suitcase onto my bed. It makes the mattress flop a bit, surprising since the container isn't as heavy. "So," I huff. "What would I need to take?" I wonder aloud, open for some of her suggestions.

The pink haired girl snorts, strolling to my closet. Her eyes scan every piece of clothing before she pulls out a bundle of them, placing them near the suitcase. Determination fills the brown orbs, making me smile goofily. She examines every article of clothing, looking at the style, fabric, color, even size.

A lot of the clothes she chose were t-shirts, hoodies, and jeans. Did I mention that I have a load of hoodies? I wear one everyday, basically.

"Do you have a dress?" she asks out of nowhere, setting a bunch of plaid shirts on the bed. Her brows are furrowed, deep in concentration.

One end of my mouth curves upward as I cross my arms over my chest. "Demi, do I look like a person own a dress?" Truth was, I had a dress but I barely used it. It was a black dress that supposedly, according to others, hugged my curves and made my skin tone and eyes pop. I keep it deep in my closet, hidden from the outside world.

The pop star turns to me, a Batman t-shirt in her hands. She raises a dark brow. "You don't have a dress?" I quickly shake my head, organizing the clothes into the suitcase. I made piles in that suitcase, realizing that I might not have enough room. Mm, guess I have to use the other suitcase. It was black and smaller to contain my shoes and personal items. "Well, I'll have to buy you one."

My eyes widen, the muscles of my body tightening. "W-what?" I stutter, facing her. All my previous thoughts were halted to a stop as I gaped at her in shock.

Amusement twinkles in her beautiful eyes full of life. "I'm going to buy you a dress," she repeats, setting the tee down, her hands settling on her hips. "Is that a problem?" Yes it's a problem! I don't do skirts, much less dresses.

If possible, my eyes grow larger. "I don't wear that kind of clothing, Demi. I'm a hoodie-jean-sneaker kind of girl," I argue closing the space between us. Her eyes is cocked up slightly, smirking directly at my face. Her lips are pursed as she runs a hand up my arm.

Her touches send me to the moon and back, a breathy sigh passing through my lips. My head is titled toward her, my bangs falling forward. "Come on. Please? It'll only be one and it's in case of a special occasion," she persuades, her fingers intertwining with mine. The singer gives me a comforting squeeze, hope staining her expression.