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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #986858
Ciara goes clothes shopping and bumps into Dom!
"I don't really like anything here." said Ciara, looking over everything in the store. All the clothing had a brand name logo, that of an alligater, which Ciara found tacky. "I just don't think you should pay a hundred dollars a shirt, and give the clothing company free advertising. It just isn't right."

"For someone who hasn't ever been clothes shopping without a budget, you sure are picky." mused her father. They had been to several stores, and Ciara had only chosen ten things she liked. Still, she had good taste, wearing a white baby tee with gray shorts and gray sandals. She felt a little odd being out her rags, and looked uncomfortable, but with her beautiful wavy hair brushed and shining, and a touch of makeup, she looked like a model.

Ciara shrugged, and grinned bashfully. "Oh I don't know. I just want everything I choose to be...great."

Her aunt raised an eyebrow. "Great?"

"I didn't want to say special."

"Gotcha."

"Excuse me ma'am, but we're closing the store early today." said a feminine sounding male store clerk.

"Is there a problem?" asked Adrian.

"No problem sir. The store is being closed so someone can shop in private." he turned to Zene and rolled his eyes. "And no, I can't even reveal to a tourist who that someone is."

Aunt Zene stared at him for several seconds, then snapped her fingers. Instantly, the store clerk was turned into a fluffy brown bunny. Zene picked up the bunny. "For future reference, I'm called a queen in my country. You do know what a queen is, don't you?" The bunny wriggled it's nose in response. "I let you hop and think about that." She set the bunny down, and it hopped into the fitting room.

"Remind me never to piss you off." said Ciara as the bunny hopped past her.

"You won't. You aren't a sales clerk." smirked Zene. "Don't worry. He'll feel more like himself in a few hours. After closing time." Zene cackled.

Adrian held Ciara close. "Whatever you do, don't say she laughs like a witch."

Ciara turned to her aunt. "You laugh like a witch you know."

Zene stared at her niece for several seconds before erupting in laughter. Ciara and her father joined in. "I was laughing like that on purpose!"

"Yeah right!" shrieked Ciara, backing up into someone. She turned around saw that it was Dom, wearing black and dark shades again. "Oh! I'm sorry. That's the second time I've annoyed you." she said, so he wouldn't think she was Lady Mutumba. "We shouldn't be here. Dad, Aunt Zene let's-"

"Wait! I need your help." He took off his dark shades, and Ciara had to bite her lip to keep from beaming. "I can't find a nyone who can give me an honest opinion on how I look in new clothes. So I was wondering if it wasn't too much trouble-"

"Dad and Aunt Zene-" Ciara began.

"We'll be in the food court." said Zene, trying not to smile. The two adults left quickly, leaving Ciara to stare at the two bodyguards. They didn't seem to notice her.

"I'm going to get a few things, and when I come out, just tell me what you think, okay?" said Dom.

"Sure." Ciara agreed. They spent an hour like that, with a few cracks from Ciara in-between. "You act like you've never been clothes shopping before." she said. "You have horrible fashion sense."

"Well...I haven't really done this before." he admitted. "Yesterday, I made arrangements with someone to do my costume, and I just liked the thought of doing for myself, so..." He sighed. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear all that. I'm sure you go shopping all the time for your employers."

Ciara bit her lip. So he thinks I'm a servant! It's better he think that than some whirlwind party girl. I won't correct him.
"Well, yes. But I never get anything for me."

"You look pretty well off to me. You're wearing Bobby Figer, Space, and-"

"Don't read to much into it. Someone's treating me today." she said quickly. "I like it, but it would take some getting used to. So I guess I feel sort of the way you feel." She blushed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you feel uncomfortable like me-"

"No, actually, you're right." he said looking at her strangely. Ciara lowered her head and put her hair behind her ears nervously. "You haven't called me Your Highness or Your Majesty."

"Oh! I apologize Your Majesty!" she started to kneel.

"No. I'd prefer you didn't." he looked her in the eye and smiled for the first time since she'd known him.

"Why is that?" she queried, smiling timidly.

"I don't know. I guess I think of you as a friend." he said, heavily. "No one's usually honest with me, just what they think I want to hear. It's nice to just know that someone will tell me the truth."

Ciara looked down and saw the bunny jumping around a clothes rack, and swallowed hard. "Uh...I have to go." She bit her tounge as soon as she said it.Great thinking, girl! Now he's going to ask why!

"What would you say if I told you I'm having a party tonight?"

Ciara grinned nervously. "I don't understand."

"You don't make things easy do you?" he grinned back.

"You asked for honesty." Finally she got it. "No! I couldn't possibly go!" she refused on the spot.

"What? Usually I have to check invitations to make sure the right people get in. I've never had a flat out refusal before." he looked crushed.

"I'm sorry. I'm really bad at this. I just have a lot of choices to make right now-"

"No. I'm the one who should be sorry. You probably think I'm trying to score-"

That's exactly what I think. Thought Ciara secretly. I may have been little more than a servant girl my whole life, but I know better than to fall for that sensitive guy bullshit- "No, that's not what I think!"

"So I'll send someone to pick you up at eight?"
he asked cunningly.

"Yes." Ciara said it before she could think. What? No! I can't go to another ball! He'll recognize me! "I have to go now, my family is probably worried." She took off into the mall, knowing he wouldn't follow and be given away by his bodyguards. "Shit, shit, shit!" She exclaimed after she found a seat in the food court. "How am I going to get out of this shit?"

"Coal Part 8: 1st Draft

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