The train jolted to a stop, doors hissing open, and we stepped off onto the platform, the morning chill still clinging to the air. Sara led the way, her boots clicking fast on the concrete as we headed out of the station and into the nearby mall, a big glass building buzzing with early shoppers.
I trailed behind, my hands shoved in my pants pockets, my shoulders slumping—already done with this before it even started. She dragged into a clothing store first, racks of dresses and tops cramd tight, pop music humming low over the speakers, the air slling like new fabric and perfu.
She darted around, grabbing stuff off hangers—a flowy blue dress, a tight green top, so skirt I didn’t even look at—then spun to , holding them up.
"What do you think, Ezra? Which one will look good on ?" she asked, her voice all chipper, her dark hair bouncing as she tilted her head, waiting.
I slouched against a rack, my eyes half-open, barely glancing at the clothes. "No idea—I don’t know anything about this stuff," I said flat, shrugging lazy.
She stopped short, her smile fading fast, and glared at —her eyes narrowing sharp, her lips pressing tight like I’d just insulted her. My stomach flipped, and I gulped hard, my throat dry.
"Uh... that one," I said quick, pointing at the blue dress random-like, my finger jabbing the air, just to get her off my back.
"I’ll give it a try!!" she said, her voice perking up again, all happy and loud as she clutched the dress and bounced toward the changing room.
I flopped onto a cushy chair nearby, the fake leather squeaking under , and pulled out my phone, scrolling bored through nothing—texts I didn’t care about, so random app notifications. My legs stretched out, my jacket rustling as I yawned, the store’s chatter fading into a dull hum around . A couple of girls giggled by the jeans section.
The curtain flew open with a loud *swish*, and Sara stepped out, posing dramatic with her hands on her hips.
"~Tada! How do I look, Ezra?" she called, her voice ringing out, grabbing every eye in the store. The blue dress hugged her tight, the hem flaring out above her knees, her long boots making her legs look endless. Heads turned—the giggling girls, the mom, even the clerk—all staring at her, then at , waiting.
I sat up quick, my phone slipping to my lap, my nerves twitching as I forced a tense smile as people would think we were so weird couple fighting.
"Ahh... it’s good," I said. "Looks great on you."
"I’ll buy this!" she said, clapping her hands happy, her grin big as she spun back into the changing room, the curtain snapping shut again. I slumped back, exhaling hard, my smile dropping as soon as she was gone, muttering under my breath, "Great, one down..."
Next stop was another store, all bright lights and pop music, this one full of lacy stuff—bras, panties, things I didn’t wanna be caught staring at.
Sara beelined for a rack, snatching up a pair of panties—strappy, laced-up ones, one black, one red—and held them up to like it was a quiz.
"Which one should I go with?" she asked, her voice teasing, her eyes glinting as she dangled them in front of my face, her gum popping loud.
I stared at her, my face flat, my hands back in my pockets. "At least buy your panties on your own," I said, my tone dry.
"Pick....Fast." she said, her smile tightening, her voice sharp now.
"Sighh*... black one," I said, rolling my eyes, my voice dragging as I pointed quick at the black pair.
"Ohhh... I sowhat knew you’d pick that one," she said, turning away with a smirk, holding the black pair up like she’d won sothing. "You always wear black anyway—matches your moody vibe." She popped her gum again, heading for the counter, her jacket flapping as she walked.
"Well, she’s not wrong about that," I muttered, yawning big, my jaw cracking as I rubbed my eyes.
Back in the store, Sara poked half her face out from behind the changing room curtain, her dark hair spilling over the edge as she waved over with a quick flick of her hand.
"Ezra..." she called, her voice low.
"Hmm? What is it?" I asked, my tone flat.
She slid one leg out, then the other, pushing the curtain aside just enough to show off the black strappy panties she’d slipped on—laced up tight, hugging her hips, her long boots still on below them.
"How does it look?" she asked, smirking big, leaning against the fra like she was posing for a photoshoot.
I jerked my head right, then left, scanning fast—no one was looking, the clerk too busy, the other shoppers lost in their own stuff.
"It’s looking good," I said quick, my voice tense, stepping closer to yank the curtain shut. "What are you doing? Close this!" My hands fumbled with the fabric.
"Cute reaction," she said, her voice muffled but loud enough, giggling shalessly.
Next stop was a café down the mall hall, all glass walls and wooden tables, the sll of coffee and sugar hitting us as we walked in. I ordered an iced latte—simple, cold, sothing to wake up—and Sara got so fancy tower of a drink, piled high with whipped cream and ice cream, dripping chocolate syrup down the sides.
I stared at it as we sat across from each other at a small table, the ice clinking in my glass. *How much sugar is that?* I thought.
"You wanna try this?" she asked, holding out a spoonful, the ice cream lting fast.
"No, I’m good," I said, shaking my head, sipping my latte slow, the cold biting my tongue. "That’s too much sugar—looks like a heart attack in a cup." I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.
"Ohh, yeah... you’re maintaining your body, right?" she said, her voice dropping sultry, her lips curling as she licked the spoon slow, her boots tapping under the table. "No wonder you look so hot all the ti." She winked.
I rolled my eyes, sipping my drink with my eyes closed for a sec, letting the coolness calm .
"I did it for Aeri and no one else," I said flat, setting the glass down with a soft *clink*.
"Hmmmmm..." she humd, her tone thoughtful, her eyes narrowing like she was plotting sothing.
She shifted in her seat, her hands dropping under the table, clutching her thighs, rubbing them slow like she was feeling that heat she’d hinted at earlier. Her boots squeaked faint against the floor, her gum popping soft as she stared off for a sec, lost in whatever was spinning in her head.
We went quiet after that, sipping and eating for a few minutes—the café buzzing around us, a barista calling out orders, so kid laughing by the window.
I was done drinking my latte, when Sara suddenly pushed her chair back.
"Done. Co with ," she said, standing up quick.
"Where now? More shopping? *Sighh*," I asked, standing slow, my voice dragging. I followed her out.
She didn’t answer, just kept walking, her boots clicking ahead, leading through the mall’s twists until I realized we were at the washrooms—tucked off in a quiet corner, the signs flickering above.
"Why are we here?" I asked, stopping short, my brow creasing as I glanced around, the hall empty except for a janitor mopping far off.
Before I could blink, she grabbed my collar—her fingers tight, yanking hard—and pulled into a cubicle, the door banging shut behind us.
"Oiii..." I yelped, my voice cutting off as my back hit the washroom door, the tal cold through my jacket. She locked in, her hands still on my collar, pinning there, her dark eyes boring into mine, close and intense, her breath warm with that sugary coffee sll.
"Relax, puppy," she said, smirking slow, her voice low and teasing, her body pressing closer, her boots nudging my feet apart. "We’re just... catching up." Her gum popped again, her lips curling as she held there.
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