Between Footsteps| p.jm

EIGHT| -.. .-. . ... ...

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to @WINEKISSES ~ I'm sure if you've ever peeked at the comments section in any of my books then you've probably seen her, and I'm sure a lot of you can agree with me when I say she is literally the best and such a beautiful supportive person <3 Because I have undoubtedly tortured her with the prospect of 79 not changing out of her original clothes for the entirety of her stay in the Between thus far, I wanted to give her a shout out in the chapter where that finally changes ;) 

Thanks to everyone who is reading and enjoying Between Footsteps, if you haven't yet seen the trailer then here's the link!

I love you guys and I'll keep working hard on my stories before school starts again ;-;

~~~

"I did no such thing," you protested, surprised and not enthralled with 62's claim that the two of you would be breaking from your usual schedule for the day in order to play dress up and go to a fancy dinner party. And the fact that you had apparently agreed to it.

"Yes you did, peanut!" he insisted, "I literally asked you about it yesterday and you agreed. Don't tell me you're taking it back...?"

He made a face then. It was some sort of attempt to make you feel bad as his full lips drew into a pout and his eyes glistened in sadness. You looked on in slight disgust.

"What is that face? Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

62 blinked.

"Is it working?"

"No."

"Hmm..." he lightly tapped his lips with the side of his finger in thought as he seemed to contemplate the best way to get you to agree once more to his previous invitation.

You had to admit there was a possibility that you had agreed the day before without remembering. Upon deciphering the clock, you had been distracted and unfocused. If 62 had been speaking, you certainly hadn't been paying attention. Due to business in the work day and the fact that 19 had gone to the bar the previous evening, you still hadn't been able to talk to him about the word that had been encrypted in the ticking of the clock. It made you angsty. 

62 snapped his fingers as if coming to a conclusion and smiled warmly at you.

"I told you it's a dinner, right? So food is included. If you go, you get to eat."

You froze at the prospect of food before coming to your senses and narrowing your eyes.

"Do I look like a glutton to you?! Yah! You think food is enough to entice me into going to some preppy gold tier rich people fest?"

His eyes widened at your outburst and you suddenly felt a little guilty at the harshness of your words. You hadn't meant them and knew you were of course a sucker for food, but found you hadn't been able to control your own words under the nervousness of the notion that you would finally be acting as if you were a gold tier. 

"Ah... sorry, I-"

"It's OK, peanut. You don't have to go if you don't want to, I just thought it would be fun maybe and that you'd want to. We can pick out our outfits for the performance some other time." He smiled after waving off your harshness and you legitimately felt angry at him and yourself. You knew you hadn't always been the best dance partner due to your constant exhaustion from work, inexperience, clumsiness, and distracted mind. But he, without missing a beat, always showed compassion and understanding.