Monster High: Fright On! | Monster High Fanfiction

Kiss, Kiss

"Let's go!" Cleo called from her bedroom, her voice echoing faintly around her velvet-padded, two-story closet and ringing with a note of irritation that Cleo often seemed to have prominently in her voice. "Deuce has been waiting, Laura, come on!"

She huffed, checking herself out one last time in her new vampire-reflection mirror (it cost a fortune which is why, sadly, she only had one, but her father promised to get her entire wing outfitted with them for her birthday as an apology for doing four business trips in a row, not that that was uncommon) and decidingly pulling two strands of hair from the high ponytail it had been styled into, letting the curled tresses frame her heart-shaped face. She tilted her hips, shifting her weight to rest on one leg to get a better, more flattering angle as she gazed at herself critically. Her hair was perfect (she didn't know how Cleo was better than the luxury hairdresser she used to go to, but she supposed that she couldn't complain with the amount of extra money she could now put towards shopping); her ebony waves were so dark they were blue, delicately interwoven with pink strands that somehow made it seem natural (no matter how implausible it may seem). The long tresses were curled carefully, reaching to her waist despite being in a high ponytail, and they bounced with each step that she took. Her black, red, silver and white cheerleading uniform was long-sleeved with a turtleneck collar to account for the Winter chill. The matching skirt fell to the middle of her thighs, but paired with sheer tights and fur-laced, thigh-high boots she was still quite cozy. Having a stylish outfit, and luxurious hair, and clear skin were things that made her feel much less insecure about herself; it almost made her think she was beautiful.

As Cleo yelled again, this time her voice more insistent, she huffed, shrugging on a knee-length coat which she tied with quick, nimble fingers, and grabbed her mini backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. After a final, parting glance where she blew a kiss to her reflection (confidence was key) she began walking to her bedroom. It was a little ways away with how big her closet was (her father had converted a whole other wing into her own personal closet), but the moving walkway down the middle made the trip much quicker. If Cleo were any other person she'd be surprised that her voice could carry all the way across her dressing wing to reach her, but the Egyptain monster was an expert at yelling so she wasn't surprised in the least. Honestly, the girl had lungs so big she was surprised she wasn't the lead in the school's choir.

By the time she exited her closet Cleo was the epitome of annoyed; arms crossed, leg tapping, eyebrow raised and a loud huff to top it all off. "Honestly," she griped, grabbing her duffle bag from where she'd dropped it in a heap by her feet and slinging it over her shoulder, "People would think you'd come from Goreway with how long that took you."

Cleo huffed again and quickly scanned her outfit before rolling her eyes as she got to her footwear, looking all the more annoyed, but not surprised. "Heels, Laura, really," Cleo said exasperated, putting a hand on her hip.

"They're low," Draculaura defended. "And super cute."

"Yeah, but you're our flyer. Are you trying to crush my hand?" She replied sassily.

Draculaura pouted, "They're squishy heels . . . and they make me feel like myself again."

Cleo's hard expression softened and she sighed, rolling her eyes again as she groaned. "Fine, but one complaint and you're fearing barefoot," she said resolutely.

Draculaura gave her captain a cheeky smile, "Well, it's not like they can stop and complain mid-routine so I guess I'll be cheering with heels."

Cleo glared. "Go downstairs, brat."

"Oh, I'm the brat?" Draculaura asks incredulously even as she follows her friend across her room and into the hallway of her wing. "Says the girl that made her boyfriend go out for a Green Machine smoothie during lunch hour," she quipped back with a knowing smirk.