Obsidian Hearts: I

Fifteen: Malnourished

— Sable Rae

Paris held the door open for me.

We entered this cute little boutique after having driven an hour away from my house. I wasn't used to being so far in the city— Otto is only ever allowed to bring me to certain places but never anything too far away just in case something happened.

Paris went to talk to the woman behind the counter as I peered curiously at everything. The mash of colors and dim lights create this comfortable aura that makes you feel more at home than your actual home. As beautiful as everything was, it confused me at the lack of people here.

There was no one besides myself, Paris, and the other woman. Making my way towards the two, they were just wrapping up conversation me hearing just the ending. The two spoke in another language and due to all the extracurricular activities I was forced into I quickly picked up on foreign languages.

Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Italian.

They were speaking Italian.

The brunette smiles at me warmly, her glitter eye shadow sparkling under the overhead lights. She was gorgeous. I returned the gesture, slipping my hand into Paris's to gain his attention which he quickly gave. "Are we shopping for someone?"

Nodding towards the lady he then leads us in the other direction. We go to the back of the boutique behind a curtain where there are rows of clothes lined up on racks. "We're shopping for you."

"Oh." It then hit me, when really it should have since earlier. "Paris you really don't have to. I don't need any of this."

Pushing me towards the racks he squeezes my shoulders. "I didn't ask you what you needed. I'm doing this because I want to."

Worry settles over me and I'm sure he can see it on my face. I skim the tags on the outfits, my heart dropping in my stomach. "I— I don't think so. Paris really—."

"I didn't come all this way for you to complain the entire time." He told me and I can hear his patience lessening in his voice.

Did it sound like I was complaining? I wasn't trying to. I sighed. "I'm sorry... I'm just not used to all this."

"You'll get used to it. This is nothing, I don't even want you to think about it. Just get what you like and I'll worry about the rest."

I chewed at my already red lip wanting to at least try and change his mind one last time. I don't, afraid he'll get upset at me and think I'm being ungrateful. "Okay."

((()))

I shimmied into my fourth pair of jeans having to tug a little just to get my butt in. I've never had these problems before, all my pants were loose fitting.

There was soft music playing on the other side of the dressing room where Paris sat on a couch. The lady from earlier came and brought him some champagne so I figured he was pretty occupied with that.

"I didn't know you were Italian." I voiced hoping he could hear me.

"My father." Is all he says not caring to elaborate further. That doesn't stop me from asking questions though.