I stood frozen, squeezed into this gloriously awkward fitting room with Mochizuki Haruka pressed dangerously close, heart pounding so loud I was scared soone in the store would hear it.
What in the world is she trying to pull? Is this so kind of dare, or just her unique way of making mories?
"Mochizuki-san?" I tried, but she completely ignored .
Instead, she slipped her fingers up to her shirt—soft, pale hands less than a breath away—and started unbuttoning, one by one. No pretense, no hesitation. In the tight little booth, every motion felt extra intimate.
She's changed in front of before… but there's sothing extra electric about doing this in public, with only a thin curtain for privacy.
From my vantage point, being tall definitely ca with its dangers: my eyes dropped down, and—yep, there was a whole swath of snowy skin on open display, and maybe the sight was getting to my head faster than I'd like to admit.
I turned to the mirror behind —there she was again, reflected twice over. Not only was Haruka's figure as lovely as ever, but this ti the rustling sounds of her clothes coming off made the tension multiply by the second.
Suddenly, she poked on the shoulder—twice—like a playful child seeking attention.
"Ginjo-san, Ginjo-san."
She wants to look. No hiding this ti—I have a front-row seat to whatever she's got planned.
I turned, and…
She was smiling ear to ear, arms open in the universal language of "ta-da!" Her T-shirt—soft cotton, cute print—was the exact sa style as the one I was wearing.
"See? It's a couple's outfit," she whispered, all proud and secretive at once, pressing herself close until our matching shirts touched.
Couple outfits. Really? In a crowded teenage shop, no less. This is… actually adorable.
"Well… at my age, matching is a little embarrassing… but I always wanted to try it, at least once," she confided, pink creeping up her cheeks.
"Is that it?"
I tried to act cool, but my heart was definitely warm and lty.
"Yeah. I worried people would think I look silly, so I waited until I could pull you into the fitting room. But today… my little dream finally ca true," she giggled, sidling deeper into my personal space.
Looking in the mirror, I couldn't help but smile—, rumpled and simple, her glowing and giddy, both in matching shirts. We looked so much like a couple it almost startled .
"Ginjo-san, let's buy them together? Please?"
She turned up her doe eyes, making it impossible to say no.
"Of course. Let's get them."
She practically bounced with happiness. The last bits of her guardedness after movie night seed to have faded—now she radiated pure joy.
She studied her own reflection, still grinning. "Do you like the right size, or sothing looser, Ginjo-san?"
"I'm good with either."
I ant it, but the way she was tugging at her fitted shirt—emphasizing every contour—made suspect she'd thought this detail through.
Suddenly, a polite knock and a voice from outside the curtain: "Sorry to bother you…"
We both jumped—Haruka almost dropped the pile of clothes.
I slid the curtain open—there stood a cheerful female clerk, all custor-service charm.
"Would you like to try a larger size, or maybe matching pants as well?"
She had clearly caught snippets of our couple conversation.
Reviews
All reviews (0)