Never A Saint (COMPLETE)

Sixteen: Saint Morseti

Reactive attachment disorder in adults is an inability to genuinely express emotion or feelings. They will isolate themselves completely, have an intense fear of being alone and they under react or overreact to things.
When this happens, Saint will also verbally shut down which is selective mutism.

I watched her choose her underwear.

"What size do you think-"

"Medium."

She nodded.

I knew she preferred no show cheeksters and some thongs for leggings.

She got everything she thought she needed and they had good material, better than Pink.

She just went to Pink for bras.

Which is where I assume we're headed next.

Her hands were getting full.

"I can take them." I said and she handed them to me.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I'm getting too much-"

"Shut up. Get what you need." I said before thinking about how rude that was.

But she didn't even flinch, she literally shut up and continued like it never happened.

She handed me the last few pairs.

"Anything else?"

She looked at some of the large sweaters.

"If I get leggings can I wear these over them to cover my butt?" She asked.

My heart stammered.

I didn't understand why she was asking it like that.

"I assumed you wouldn't want my butt to be poking out and-"

"If you wore leggings I wouldn't mind you wearing anything that showed it." I squinted.

"But the leggings I like are really tight and you can see the complete shape of my butt through them so I just thought-"

"You can do what you'd like regarding that."

"Why are you so shocked about that?"

"I thought you'd rebel since you love leggings."

"Not really. I'd rather no one get physically harmed by you for looking at me."

"If that's what you want to do, I have no problems with it." I shrugged.

She tried on some leggings and got two regular pairs, two pairs of flare ones. Then a few giant sweaters.

We bought those and I held the bags in my hands as we went to pink.

"Are you stalker enough to know my bra size?" She smirked, making it a game.

"You can fit into a 34 B or 32 C in Pink bras."

"Bingo!" She said opening the door and I rolled my eyes as she was incredibly excited to be here.

She picked out many kinds.

The plain ones.

A few showy ones.

A few that looked like comfy ones that some girls wear as tops.

"Those go under your clothes correct?" I asked to make sure we had an understanding.

"Yes."

I nodded.

"Same with the fancy ones?" I asked when she picked up a black one with rhinestones on the straps.

She snorted.

"It's not a shirt. They're bras. They go underneath clothing."

"No one will ever know what those straps look like on you. You hear me?"

"Like you'd ever let me be alone enough to show anyone." She rolled her eyes.

We checked out and went to some stores for skirts, tights, and dresses.

Then got her stocked up on shoes.

Heels, flats, vans, sneakers.

Then she was done.

I packed the car after getting her in.

I got in the drivers and she kissed my cheek when I sat.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"For what?"

"Everything. I've never not been worried about spending. Today was weird for me and very exciting. I appreciate you." She told me and I nodded.

"Are you okay?" She asked and her words held no definition to me as I couldn't answer.

She reached her hand over and set it on my thigh.

I began driving home and she was on her phone.

I glanced and she looked up my problems.

I grabbed her phone and shut it off, putting it on the elbow rest, placing my arm over it.

"I'm sorry. I just want to understand."

I understood none of what she said. It couldn't process right.

She looked out the window and kept to herself.

It was like this until we were home.