Death of an Angel

I followed the boy into yet another dress shop. I thought that he was being sarcastic. Actually, I think I just hoped that he was. “So why are you, a boy, going dress shopping?” I asked, resigned to the fact that this boy was the only one of our kind I’d met so far, and that I would be stuck following him around.

“Because I’m not a boy, I just look like one so I could go to the fighting school for nekos.” He…or rather she, told me. “This,” she gestured to her body, “Is all a glamour, which hides my true appearance.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know what glamour is.” I growled, and the girl smiled.

“Just checking, but now we have to get serious. I really need a dress for this Saturday.” She said, looking through a new rack of clothing.

I sighed, and got up, following her to where the dresses were. I looked through several until I found one that was like most of the girls at court wore. It was supposed to be the ‘latest fashion’ they all told me, so I picked it out, and saw that was like them, but with a tighter corset, and a bigger poof on the skirt of it.

“Try this one.” I told her, and walking over to me skeptically, she took it and went into the dressing room.

I’m guessing one of the women back there helped her put the dress on, because there is no way that she pulled that corset that tight herself.

She looked beautiful in it, and I saw that her hair that had been tied back and straight was now in loose curls, and she actually had a chest that filled the dress.

“You look better without the glamour.” I told her, and she glanced at me harshly in the mirror, as she spun in circles, and looked at herself from the front, the back, from behind, and every way possible that she could see it.

“I…actually kind of like this one.” She said softly, turning again, and I had to admit that I agreed, the baby blue dress did wonders for her pale complexion.

I smiled, and said, “Well then, lets hurry and buy it so we can get to those contacts of yours.” She glared at me, and hurriedly, I said, “Not that I don’t completely enjoy dress shopping with you, um…”

“Luss, call me Luss.” She murmured from behind the dressing room door.

“Luss, but I’m kind of a fugitive. I need a place to hide.” I said, hoping that she would understand, and I think she did.

“And we will get there, I promise.” She walked out of the dressing room and handed me the dress. “Will you take this to the register for me? I need to go to the restroom.” And she walked away, me still holding the dress.

I rolled my eyes, and walked it to the register, realizing what she had done, she was standing outside, talking to someone about something, when I took out my wallet, and paid with a credit card I had found, and I copied the person’s signature exactly.

As my eyes went over the price, I whistled, it was almost ten thousand dollars. That was a lot for a dress in any world.