Emo Is As Emo Does (Keith x Reader)

[22] On the Spot

BE SURE TO COMMENT AND CHIZ XDD

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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!"

Hunk leapt up into the air, clutching his heart. "PIDGE, WHAT IN THE—"

Pidge turned her seat around, facing him. She had the biggest smirk on her face, with bugged-out eyes. Hunk was scared and confused—nothing new. They were both hanging out in the Green Lion—well, more like spying, actually.

"KEITH AND (Y/N) HUGGED, THEY'RE FINALLY STARTING TO LIKE EACH OTHER!!!" Pidge was shaking like a chihuahua that had just gotten electrocuted. She was probably on the verge of a heart attack. Hunk attempted to calm her down.

"Uhm, do you think it's right for us to be stalking them—"

"SHHHHHHHH—DO YOU HEAR THAT?" Pidge slapped her hand over his mouth. When he felt her touch, it reminded him of an amplifier since she was vibrating so much. "IT'S THE WINDS OF CHANGE~"

"Pidge, no."

Meanwhile, you relaxing on the bed in the hotel. This time, you were wondering what to wear. Keith hadn't confirmed the location yet, so you decided to ask him. You sent him a discreet text from your phone, asking:

'Where are we even going for the date?'

He must have not noticed, because there was no reply yet. You glanced over in his direction, only to find him reading a magazine. That's when you threw the TV remote at him. Once he finally noticed you—you held up your phone and slightly shook it, signaling for him to check his messages.

"Fine," he mouthed. After waiting for a minute, he responded.

'There's a rodeo happening in San Antonio tonight. It'll be fun.'

You've never been to a rodeo before—all you knew was that they rode cows. Why not? You texted back:

'Alright...as long as the others aren't tagging along, I don't really care where we go."

The thing was, you didn't know what to wear. Of course, it didn't have to be formal or anything—but you wanted to at least look nice. That's when you realized you needed to get another girl involved—a girl with style. And Pidge was obviously not the answer.

"I am flattered that you think I have style. It's not every day I get to make over a fellow girl friend," Allura stated, smiling. "If I may ask, what is the special event?"

"Uhm. . ." You were having a hard time trying to think of an excuse. So, you just blurted the first thing you thought of. "Gonna hit on some hot boys at the local Wendy's!"

". . ." Allura had no words. You gave her a cringy thumbs-up, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Look, just make me appear not hideous," you described, lolling back in the chair you were sitting in.

"Don't worry. I'll make you look just right," she assured.

Allura flipped through several fashion magazines, getting some inspiration of her own. After picking out a top, bottom, and shoes—she sent Coran to buy the ensemble from some local stores. You were just hoping she didn't make you look like an extravagant princess or anything. After a while, Coran came back.

"Thank you! These are lovely." Allura held up the articles of clothing, showing them off to you.

To be honest, it looked pretty stylish—yet casual and comfortable. The top was slim and sleeveless, completed with a (F/C) plaid pattern.
For the pants: it was a skinny pair of black acid-wash jeans. It looked simple yet edgy—because yeah.
And lastly, the shoes: they were combat boots, the shade of (F/C). Their soles were as heavy as a burden, the outer part was strong enough to crush the dreams of a child.