Stall

Leather and Lace / The Beginning

"So you're really going through with this?" Sophie asks for the third time today, staring at my reflection through the mirror as she leans against the bathroom door.

I catch her gaze in the reflection, looking back to myself, straightening up my dress, trying to tug it down so it sits lower, which is impossible.

"I guess so" I reply trying to hide my nerves.

I wasn't one for dresses usually, and I'm already praying I don't look stupid. This isn't a date after all, well not date date. I don't know what you'd call it, I'm sure Sophie has several names for it.

I look over the black dress, running my hands down over the delicate lace material over the top. It was very form fitting, and the thin spaghetti straps left my shoulders feeling very bare, I'm starting to regret letting Sophie talk me into buying this.

"Are you positive I don't look silly? This isn't too much?" I ask anxiously.

Sophie rolls her eyes pushing off of the door frame, standing behind me in the bathroom facing mirror with a raised brow "It's a dress not a pair of nipple tassels Abby, relax"

"It's not too short?"

"No"

"What about too tight?"

"No"

"It's not too low cut?"

Sophie huffs, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me to face her "Stop. You look sexy as hell, you're going out for the night with a hot guy, not to church"

I throw my head back whining "But that's the problem! I can't do sexy. "

I huff, still looking at the ceiling "I can only do awkward and below average, it's like putting lingerie on a llama - uncomfortable but hilarious"

Sophie grabs my face between her hands, forcing me to look at her "If you crack on more self deprecating joke tonight, I'm going to message Harry and tell him to drag you into an Adult Toy Store before you go to the bar. Do you want that to happen? Because you know he'll do it"

My eyes widen and my mouth drops "No!" I gasp "You wouldn't"

The one and only time Sophie tried dragging me into one of those I had a panic attack.

"Watch me" she warns with a lift of her brows.

"Please, god, no" I plead "You know I'd die from embarrassment, I can't even look at those things, they're traumatising"

She eyes me cautiously for a moment, suddenly becoming concerned "Abby, I'm being dead serious here, you're one hundred percent sure you wanna do this tonight? I don't want you doing something you'll regret. You know he isn't taking you out to just have a chat"

"I'm one hundred percent sure I never want to be in the same room as butt plug" I reply sarcasticly

"Abby" she warns, knowing my sarcasm is my way of avoiding the subject.