Chapter 1: 1. The Skirt is Supposed to be this Short

Note: For ShahKiertai (aboxfullofocs), Squiddywritesstuffs.

The boutique was dimly lit, save for the omnidirectional lights that hung down from the ceiling over each of the framed floor to ceiling mirrors that lined either side of the hallway. The pass-through was T shaped. On one end of the hallway where the dressing rooms; on the other were the bathrooms. And in between were the mirrors in all their reflective splendor, framing the hall on either side of the space in such a way that it seemed to be twice the size that it was. In the very center of the cross-section of glass, walls, frames, and light was a large mirror with a golden frame that looked like something you’d find in an old Parisian museum. And before it stood a young woman. In each of her respective hands, she gripped a side of a lacy miniskirt. The ash, azure, and Ivory lace cascaded in tiny waves towards her upper thigh, ending about halfway above her knees. She gently tugged it downwards as she swayed to and fro, pivoting back and forth as she bounced from the balls of her heel to the tips of her toes. The fabric felt luxurious and delicate as it enveloped her in a comfortable warmth that she appreciated more than the average person was likely to. Her perception of the garment ended at its texture, for as beautiful as her eyes were, they did not serve their biological function. But she did not need to see an item to appreciate it. "Is the skirt to your liking?" She turned in the direction of his voice, a warm smile spreading across her lips and she drank in the sound of his voice. That was one sound she would never grow tired of. "It feels wonderful, V. It's quite... airy." She hesitated for a moment, clearly deep in thought. "It's relatively short though, don't you think?" She tugged on the garment for emphasis. V removed himself from the adjacent wall and came to her side, leaning over her shoulder under the guise of getting a better look at her. The young woman was petite and barely came up to his chest, but he didn't need to get this close to her to pass judgment on the outfit. "I cannot say. That's rather subjective and, historically, I have not been the best judge of attire." He took her left hand into his, loosening her death grip on the delicate cloth. There was no need to crinkle it any further. "The more important thing to consider is how it makes you feel. After all, you are the one who will be wearing it." She nodded, considering his words. "You do not think the length is problematic then?" V smirked and stood up straight, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head as he readjusted his posture. She could feel the smirk on his lips as he did so. "The skirt is supposed to be this short." She smiled and shook her head, closing her eyes as a soft giggle escaped her lips. Oh, that's why he liked the skirt so much. Truly, he was the absolute worst. But his wickedness was something she had come to cherish. He never ceased to entertain her. "Alright then, I'll keep the skirt." She pulled her hand from his tenderly as she ghosted past him and headed towards the exit. "But do not make the mistake of thinking that just because I cannot see you that I do not know exactly where your eyes are." V's smirk deepened as he came to her side. "Oh, I assure you, my love, my gaze has no reason to wander. I have eyes for nothing else."