World of Werewolves

11. Development

"Oh God..." I mumbled in dread, looking at my small closet, "I don't have proper clothes to wear!"

A week had swept by after I got Phoenix's number by successfully dumping his drink on him.

And texting him was the most complicated thing I had done all week.

A simple 'Hey, it's Jay from the cafe' took my chickenhearted self half an hour to send.

I had bailed out thrice on hitting the send button but then Max barked out some grave threat (something like, 'do it or I'll pee all over your bed') which had me pressing the button reluctantly.

Phoenix had, thankfully, texted back soon enough and we scheduled our dinner date for the weekend (a one-sided date, but a date nonetheless).

Then I had spent the rest of the week creating fake date scenarios in my head and just when the day for the date had arrived, I realised how all my clothes were no different from a beggar's.

'You are exaggerating.' Max commented as I shuffled through the clothes.

'No I'm not.' I huffed, 'I can't believe I lived off this wardrobe for three years.'

I had to buy new clothes ASAP!

I opened the drawer where I kept my wallet, and the poor thing shrunk under my gaze.

I stared hard at the small pouch before slowly closing the drawer.

Or maybe not...

I was yet to get my paycheck and my salary was barely enough to pay for the rent, bills and groceries, let alone buy clothes.

Now that I think about it, dropping the drink on Phoenix was a dumb idea. How the hell was I supposed to pay for his posh-ass-looking clothes when I couldn't even pay for my simple-looking ones?!

Thank God he refused, or Kia and I would've had to live off ramen for the next month.

I sighed, folding the shirts back into the closet.

I need to stop coming up with idiotic ideas in the middle of the night and implementing them.

'You seriously do.' Max agreed, 'You should try doing something productive instead.'

'Yeah, like read fluffy books online.'

'....I was gonna say sleep but you probably don't even know what that is.' Max scoffed, making me frown.

'Since when was sleeping considered productive?'

'Anyways, you should wear those black jeans.' Max changed the subject rather quickly, 'They make your ass stick out.'

'Okay, th-' my hand paused before reaching the jeans, 'Wait, why do you know that??'

Max went silent and I deadpanned, '...You stare at my ass, don't you?'

Max huffed out, 'First of all it's our ass.' He pointed out, 'And I'm allowed to appreciate my own ass.'

I rose an offended brow, 'Excuse me, my ass is not "our" ass. Your ass is that hairy butt in your wolf form and this human butt is mine!' I retorted through our link, 'Technically, your ass is your wolf ass and Rayvon's ass is my ass.'

I wavered at the choice of my own words. Even though Rayvon's ass was my ass, wording it aloud sounded wrong.

Fortunately, Max didn't continue on our 'who's ass is whose' conversation and inferred, 'Just wear those jeans and that white hoodie, they go well together. And style your hair nicely if you don't want to return home tonight.'