𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 • 🖤 • 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭

III - you've got it bad

"Who on earth has got you grinning like that?"

She looked up to see her dad chuckling at her in the hallway. Amelie bit her lip, she couldn't tell.

"Oh nobody, just a really good casting dad." She rolled her eyes getting up and leaning on the counter he was sat at.

"Oh kid, you've got it bad." He laughed at her again looking at her bright red face.

"I don't know what you're on about." She rolled her eyes and picked out a banana from the fruit bowl.

Her dad didn't question her just laughed at her with a raised eyebrow over his glasses, reading his newspaper.

"Oh," he gestured to her room, "your mother sent over that dress for tonight." He laughed at her, seeing her like a child so excited. "We'll leave at eight so you should start to get ready."

Amelie had already run out of the room to her bedroom looking at the pastel cream box. She untied the ribbon quickly and held the fabric to her body hugging it.

It smelt like lavender and bergamot. Just like her mother.

She bought it into the living room twirling it around her. "Dad! Look it's gorgeous."

Her dad eyes her wearily. "Yes I remember that dress," he gave her a look, "and even then with your mother I remarked that it was a little ... revealing."

Amelie laughed at him. "Yeah, maybe that's why you two never lasted." She teased him. "Dad it's a vintage Halston! It's a dream come true!" She twirled around the white silk.

"It's quite low cut down the front Amelie." He pestered. "If memory serves me."

She rolled her eyes at him for the thirtieth time. "Dad, it's fine. We're going to dinner with your work friends - I'm meeting Harlow there, we'll stay for a little while and then leave you old men to chat." She laughed at him.

"These are important people Amelie in the literature industry." He warned.

"I know, and if it really is too much, I'll wear something over it for the dinner." She smiled at him trying to ease his stress.

He nodded simply and went back to his newspaper.

Eight rolled around and Amelie had bathed and done her makeup in less than an hour, loosing track of time in the bath thinking about Timothée.

She got dressed in the Halston, spritzing her own perfume of Love Don't Be Shy by Killian. Feeling at ease at her signature night scent of pink peppercorn, orange blossom and caramel.

Her hair was a little unravelled but her mother always taught her that effortlessness, unlike American style, was the most important weapon in beauty.

Makeup minimal, and a huge faux fur shag coat - gold bangles and hoops to match. Amelie looked like an icon.

"Ready?" She called out to her Dad as he left his room in his suit.

He came over and hugged her. "You look so grown up."

She smiled. "Is that a good thing?" She asked.