The Dress

The dress appeared to be made out of thousands of butterfly wings. It shimmered against her golden skin with its hues of blue and silver. She wore jewelry of white, pieces of pearls in her blackened hair, twisted up to show the nape of her neck, strands spilling down in front of her ear and down to her bare shoulder. Her glasses were wire rimmed, thin in front of dark eyes. Gorgeous.

They straightened their tie. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The silk felt good on their fingers, considering the amount of adjusting they expected to do to calm their nerves. All they had to do was call her out. Other people had to have the same idea. She had everyone’s attention. How could she not? If they didn’t run forward now, they would miss their opportunity. She would say yes to someone else.

They couldn’t help but stare at their shoes as they stepped forward. Trying not to rush, to appear as though they were desperate. It’s not as though this was their only shot (it was).

Forcing their eyes up, they caught her eyes.

And she smiled.

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