Smoke of His Breath // Ethan Torchio

lesson 4: feel good to look good

I should be writing to Be My Slave but I can't help writing to this one... God help me.

I should've started to write this once Be My Slave was over but I'm an idiot

Enjoy,

Welcome to a new kind of tension
All across the alien nation
Where everything isn't meant to be okay
(American Idiot-Green Day)

"I can't believe you showed up at my door unannounced," I looked up to see him. I was sitting on my bed, pretty bored. He was standing in front of my wardrobe. Taking out everything that was in there. He was facing the wardrobe so I was looking at his back. He had put his silky hair into a bun, to work more comfortably. He was wearing a white tank top and black mom jeans. His arms were revealed from the shirt, showing his muscular arms and olive skin.

"I told you I would come yesterday,"

He was right but he could at least texted me to ask if I was available.

"My mom could be home," I said. He looked at me for a second and turned back to the wardrobe. "I know she never is."

I frowned with curiosity. "What does that mean?" I asked. He put the blue jeans in his hand on top of my bed and stopped what he was doing. He looked at me while speaking this time, "We all go to the same school since elementary. It was easy to detect the only other child whose parents weren't attending parental meetings."

What he said made me pause for a second. I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to say. He didn't wait for a reply anyway. He turned back to the wardrobe and talked dramatically, "This is a hate crime. Your wardrobe is a hate crime, Carmen."

Should I thanked him for remembering my name? I looked at him, who was holding my band shirts with disgust.

"Oh come on, don't be so dramatic. You only wear jeans and band shirts as well."

He looked bored now. "How many times do I have to tell you, don't do what I do. You're not Ethan Torchio. If you do what I do, you'll look dumb. I look hot."

I wondered if he could keep up a conversation without praising himself.

After he emptied the whole wardrobe he started to organize my clothes into piles. Most of them were 'trash' as he put it. Few of them were 'somehow tolerable' and only one or two pieces were considered 'okay'. I tried my best to stay silent when he talked about how shitty my clothes looked. I looked at him without showing any emotion when he demanded me to got up.

"Come on I can't spare my whole day for you. Get up!"

I rolled my eyes at him. I was curious about the reason behind his demand so I obeyed. He pointed his finger at me and drew a circle.

"Spin." he said.

I looked at him my mouth wide open. "You've got to be kidding me," I said, finally understanding what he wanted me to do. He nodded harshly, expecting me to do as he say.

I took a spin around my body. Feeling his eyes on me had made me nervous.

"Carmen, Carmen, Carmen..." he breathed out my name. A little reproach existed in his voice. "You have a nice body and a face. You hide it behind your ugly clothes and bad posture."

Shithead was reviling even when he was complimenting. I looked at my clothes. And honestly, I couldn't see what was wrong. I was wearing a skinny blue jean and a Rolling Stones shirt. My hair was in a pony-tail. I wore mascara and I had my Doc Martens. I looked at his shoes and saw Doc Martens. This pissed me off. Our clothes were nearly the same, just in different fonts.

"Your shoes are your saviors," he said shaking his head. He had realized I was looking at his shoes. He came near me and hold my shoulders, turning me to my mirror.

"Look at us Carmen. We look so different, though our clothes are similar. You have to consider the big picture. Your jeans are supposed to be skinny, but they are not tight enough. You should either wear tightest skinny jeans possible or you should wear a mom jean. And not in an ugly warm blue. We both are wearing band shirts. You are wearing a Rolling Stones one, I am wearing a Green Day one."

I frowned, he saw it through the mirror. We were both watching ourselves on the mirror, him standing behind me.

"What's wrong with the Rolling Stones?" I asked. He touched my waist. I wasn't expecting it so it made me shiver.

"Focus. Focus on our stances. I look good in my outfit, because I know I look good. You look bad in your outfit, because you don't think you do. Today's lesson is this, Carmen. You need to feel good to look good."

I looked at the mirror, trying to see if he was right or night. I felt his hand moving away from my waist, moving up. He stopped moving it once he reached to my ponytail. He grabbed my hair tie and pulled it out, freeing my hair.

"You have nice hair and nice eyes. Use them. Use your hair down. Also, an eyeliner would help."

He moved away from me after he said those. He sat down on the bed, leaving me standing in the middle of the room.

"Now, you'll go to shopping with Miruna. She know how to dress herself up, take her help. I'll burn these ugly jeans. I'll try to convince Thomas to meet you at the mall. Text me the time and place so we can arrange a 'coincidence'. I know Miruna likes those things, she believes that its the universe."

I listened to him in shock. How was he so good at this? He surely knew his way around. He knew what anyone wanted, and he acted exactly according to that. He was a walking confidence stack. I hated him for it. I truly didn't like how much he was full on himself. But his confidence was admirable in a way. As long as he wasn't being a prick about it, which was quite rare.

*

You know what to expect. A shopping trip <3